OLS READ THIS SERIES - Tumblr Posts
Talk
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: angst, fluff, smut
warnings: oral sex/face sitting/69, prone bone, dom/sub dynamics (dom!reader/sub!hoshi), protected sex, impact play (spanking), mentions of butt stuff but nothing explicit
Length: ~ 4.3k
Note: this ended up way longer than i originally planned... by like 2k but im weak for sub hoshi. realized i accidentally made them schmidt and cece from new girl.... oh well. as always thank u @gyuswhore for suffering my horrible punctuation and EVERYONE HAS TO READ HER UP COMING HOSHI FIC FOR PIRATE HOSHI I DEMAND IT
series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
Soonyoung talks. A lot.
Sometimes it makes no sense. Like the occasions he calls you after a night out and slurs his words through the speaker as you hum agreement to who knows what until he passes out while still on the line, letting you hear every snore and smack of his lips until you hang up; or when he’s inside you and it's all a bit too much that he has to tell you how good it feels in excruciating detail; or when you both wake up in the morning, you late for work and him trying to talk you into keeping the sheets warm for just a few more minutes, and Soonyoung thinks he’s convinced you but fifteen more minutes really won’t hurt because his apartment is closer to your office anyway.
He talks so much that not hearing his voice the second he opens the door is like a slap in the face.
There's no invitation inside, or lukewarm greeting. The door hangs ajar, Soonyoung already back down the hall in the direction of his room with the expectation you’ll follow.
You do, but with the same hesitancy you’d approach a wild animal: curious and on edge.
Despite the hour, his roommates aren’t anywhere to be seen. No bodies sprawled across the couch or light under their doors. Their presence never stopped you before but it’s unsettling that there's no buffer of anything to break the storm cloud choking the atmosphere. Just stark exposure to whatever is clearly bothering Soonyoung that he won’t tell you about because, technically, you two don’t do that. Or, he does and you vehemently refuse all of it with less and less authenticity each time.
Soonyoung doesn’t prattle on about his day or ask about yours as you trail behind him. He throws off his shirt without a word, collapses on the edge of the mattress, and roughly pulls you into his lap. It’s cold and unfeeling and exactly the kind of sex you’d enthusiastically participate in a year ago. But nothing like the Soonyoung you’ve grown familiar with over the past few months.
He doesn’t comment on the low cut of your top, falling into the motions without the usual banter.
You wiggle free from his grasp, trying to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He doesn’t look at you before taking back up where he left off.
“Stop.” You push him back, trying to get a look at his face but he stays in the crook of your neck. “Stop.”
The silence that follows is loud. He collapses back into the bed, arms curling up to hide away from whatever is chasing him.
“I said I’m fine,” he mumbles.
“Could've fooled me,” you huff.
“Doesn’t matter. Not what you come here for anyway, right?”
A half truth that stings more than you’d like. It sinks in your gut in the quiet dark of his room.
“You know what? Forget I asked, I’m leaving.”
“Wait,” he says, arms attempting to snake around your waist but you’re already up.
“No. You don’t need to be an asshole when I’m just trying to be nice.”
“Because you’re sunshine and rainbows all the time?”
“Did I fucking say I was? If you’ve got a problem with it you’ve had long enough to lose my number.”
“I’m sorry, I just…” he sighs heavily. “Bad day.”
You soften at the break in his voice. Stepping back over, you stand between his legs. He looks small, hunched over with his head in his hands and the weight of the world on his shoulders. The light you’ve come to associate with having him within reach is gone and all that's left is a man you don’t really recognize. He buries his face in the warmth of your stomach, and goes limp as you run a hand across his shoulders.
“Do—” you clear your throat. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Because if Soonyoung is talking there's less chances for you to open your mouth and screw it all up. You don’t know how to be doughy and tender with the same level of ease he possesses. You’ll probably fail trying but it's the least you can do.
It’s uncharted territory; for you, for this, whatever this is because it doesn’t really resemble anything you’ve done before even though the foundation is the same. Because you care about Soonyoung, and he obviously cares about you. But you’re not sure how to let him and even less sure how to return it.
“No.”
“Okay,” you say, at a loss for what comes next.
Inactivity breeds restlessness. Without any idea how to do this on your own, you default to the steps he took when you were half cooked on your bathroom floor.
Soonyoung eyes you with questions but doesn’t speak as you drag him into the en suite. Bites his tongue as you work off your clothes under the sterile overhead light and then move to work on his; raising his arms when you poke him and managing his pants on his own. He even smiles, or his mouth twitches in a vague allusion to a grin, when you flick water at him after guaranteeing the temperature won’t give you both pneumonia.
Finally tucked behind the shower curtain, he stands dumbly. Not another move to help, content to watch you wash his hair, nails raking over his scalp until he shivers.
You ignore the prod at your thigh. Focused on letting the warmth of the water do the heavy lifting, you soak a washcloth in soap and lather his skin until it tinges pink. A shampoo mohawk earns a kiss dusted along your shoulders and you might even blush a bit if you weren’t so focused on perfecting the spikes so he looks like one of those 90s alternative poster boys.
Out of the shower, his vow of silence continues. Everything he isn’t saying is clear in his eyes, especially when you slather his face in one of those mud masks, painting him bright green. He’s less intimidating with chunks of clay in his eyebrows.
He isn’t accommodating but he also doesn’t outright refuse which seems to be the best you’re going to get.
“You look like Shrek,” you snort, satisfied and turning towards the mirror to cover your own face in a matching shade.
“Well then you're Fiona.” His head comes over your shoulder, chin digging into bare skin to watch you in the mirror. His chest is sticky against your back from steam but you don’t mind if it means he’ll talk to you.
“Actually,” you think, wiggling to face him. “I think you’re more like Donkey.”
“The dragon fits you better anyway.”
“Are you calling me scary?” you gasp.
“Yes.”
“Good. Remember that next time you want me to suck on your balls.”
He winces. “I can feel them retreating into my body already.”
“Don’t make me laugh, it’ll mess up the mask.”
Without a care for the still drying mess of his face, he takes refuge back in his favorite place. Tucked under your chin, he sighs.
“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier. Work sucked today. I didn’t get a contract I wanted, they picked some other kid at the studio for it. I’ve taught him for years and they picked him over me.”
“I’m sorry.” You placate him with a gentle hand up his back, nails tracing loose patterns as the fan hums over head.
“Not your fault.”
“No, but it still sucks.”
“Yeah.” He nuzzles closer, arms heavy around your waist like you’d even think to move away. “It’ll be fine though. He’s a good kid and I couldn’t be mad at him. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Fifteen minutes later, you both wash away the flakes of clay, cracked around the corners of your eyes and mouths, and retreat back under the covers in one set of pajamas split between: you in one of his shirts with nothing underneath, and him in sweatpants with nothing on top.
Soonyoung insists that Pirates of the Caribbean is his comfort movie, something about Kiera Knightly with a gun being his sexual awakening (which explains a lot), and you let him put it on the tiny screen of his laptop with plans to fall asleep in the first five minutes.
His lips are at your temple, a dull pressure that makes your blood hum. “I always wanted to be a pirate growing up.”
“Really?” you ask, edging towards unconsciousness from the lazy drag of his fingers on your hip.
“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes glued to the screen. “Have my own ship, no rules, a bunch of sexy wenches.”
“Half naked women with scurvy were a part of your career plan?”
“Okay, maybe I added those just now but my point stands.”
The picture of Soonyoung with a scar on his chest and one of those ruffled linen shirts straight off the cover of a dime novel some grandma would read on the train with no shame isn’t that bad. Actually, it’s pretty sexy. But you won’t feed his delusions.
“What point?”
He rolls on top of you, face open with grave seriousness. “We should role play. Me as the hot pirate captain, you as the beautiful princess. Forbidden love, enemies type stuff. You run away from being royal and end up joining my crew. Oh no, Captain Hoshi, I had no idea this was your room! What an impressive sword!” he squeals in a breathy mock of you.
“And then,” you gasp. “you come in five minutes and I convince everyone to throw you overboard?”
“Hurtful. But I’m willing to forgive you if you call me captain. Just once.”
He’s close enough to kiss, lips pouted as he waits for you to give into his demand. A gentle peck bordering on domestic makes him sigh, the taste of toothpaste lingering on his breath. Just as you think you’ve distracted him away from such an ridiculous idea, he leans back with a gleam in his eye that says he’ll wait all night if you make him.
“How about we roleplay falling going to bed?” you sigh, eyes closed against his expectant gaze.
“Nope, too late. I’m thinking about you wearing nothing but a pirate hat and now I’m hard.”
He curls right into the meat of your thigh, hot and ready to go if you give the word. Sleep is tempting but the thought of a quick tumble wakes you up enough to entertain him.
“Alright, but you’re doing all the work,” you sigh. “Take off my clothes, captain.”
Pausing to let the idea settle, he shakes his head. “That’s actually not as hot as I thought it would be.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you fuff. “I’m watching the movie.”
You try to shove him away with zero intent to actually let him go anywhere and end up pinned, fingers in a tight grip around your wrists that you pretend to fight against. Soonyoung knows you like to be reminded of his strength on occasion; whether thats fucking your mouth until your throat burns or bending you over. This potentially being one since he’s had a hard day and you’re hungover from making him feel better about it.
He tongues across your pulse until you go pliant against the pillows, legs spread to cradle his hips. A shuffle of clothes and a lift of your hips and he’d be inside you. There's more steps; a condom, a little fingering because his dick was made to stretch your limits. Your legs shake already, desperate for quick fuck so you can passout while Soonyoung cleans you up.
But his new mood means he’s making up for lost time. Presently, that's bunching your shirt up to your chin and tracing each inch of newly uncovered skin with his tongue.
“Hellooooo ladies,” he sighs, nose buried between your breasts.
“God, you’re lame.”
“Be nice to me, I had a hard day,” he pouts, releasing your hands in favor of plucking at your chest until you sigh in delight.
“I’m literally letting you—hmmm— see my boobs after you said that corny shit. How much nicer can I be?”
He doesn’t answer, choosing to coax a low groan out of your chest with passes of his mouth until you're kicking the sheets. The good kind of sting that ruts your hips against his thigh and makes you dizzy. There will be a permanent wet patch if he doesn’t give you relief soon.
“I have a few ideas.”
“Like what?” You twitch at the thoughts running rampant. Short of donning that pirate hat mentioned earlier, anything he suggests is guaranteed to make you feel better too.
“Can show you better than I can tell you,” he bites into your nipple, sucking it to a stiff peak for his fingers to pinch before shifting focus to the other.
“If you try and put your dick in my ass I’ll rip it off.” The words are breathy off your lips. No real threat because he might be able to talk you into the idea if you let him. If he keeps pulling your strings the way he’s learned how.
But Soonyoung has different ideas, pulling off your nipple with a rough suck, curling your shoulders in. “That was one time and it was an accident!”
“Let me slip a finger in next time I blow you and tell me how you like it.”
“You have and I do. Keep talking about it and I’m gonna need another shower.”
“God, you’re a freak.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He takes the initiative to roll you on top, palms massaging your ass while enjoying the view of you naked in his lap.
A sudden moment of vulnerability roots in your chest, warmed by the set of brown eyes peering up at you. “You know I don’t just come here for this, right?”
Soonyoung’s eyebrows twist for a moment and then soften. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not ready for anything deeper. The air is already thicker with the weight of that confession, suffocating. In an effort not to drown in it, you drop your chest flat to his, latching onto the jut of his collarbone. “Is this your big idea? Me on top? Not very original.”
A hand at your ass drags you along his covered cock, already begging for attention. It’s not original but you’ll dry hump him into the mattress until your bones are jelly if he wants.
“Sit on my face.”
It’s your turn to pull back. “What?”
“Sit. On. My. Face.” His hand is already firm against your thighs, forcing you halfway up his chest before you can argue.
“I heard you the first time, just confused how that's supposed to make you feel better.”
“You underestimate the power of your pussy. Now get up here.”
The shuffle up is less than sexy. Soonyoung is eager from your permission, rushing you up to his mouth until you nearly knee him in the head.
“Wait,” you say.
Soonyoung locks his arms as you move off him, reflexive because he lets go a second later. Turning, you eye the tent in his pants as you kneel back down. Perfect position to touch him while he touches you.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fingers tracing through your wetness despite the horrible angle.
You don’t get a chance to orient yourself. He’s already quick to work with teasing passes of his tongue that turn bolder every second.
“Jesus Christ, give me a second to get your dick out.”
But he doesn’t; too consumed with tasting all you have to offer, wringing you out to dry the second he gets a chance. The flat of his tongue laps up your arousal like it’s more vital than oxygen. There's a wet mess smeared between your thighs from the vigor.
It takes all your focus to force down his pants, mouth watering at the shiny head of his cock straining from some heavy petting. You keep steady with one hand, jerking him off into your mouth with the other. Soonyoung malfunctions between your thighs as you swallow his cock, a moan right to your clit makes you fumble that last inch into your mouth.
He chokes you with a buck up but you take it in stride. Sucking harder, lashing against the slit until he whimpers. Normally, you’d exaggerate the wet noises at the back of your throat but with the crude dig of his tongue in your entrance there's no need.
“God,” you warble into his crotch. You arch back into his face, Soonyoung’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass, spreading you out like a full course meal.
In theory it’s hot. Your cunt on his face and his cock in your throat, rutting against each other until you're numb and twitching and covered in each other's mess. In practicality, there is nothing Soonyoung is more relentlessly dedicated to than eating you out until your vision turns white and you have to force him away or risk passing out. It only takes a few minutes before you’re forced to tap out, panting into his thigh and weakly fisting his length with no regard for the mess sticking between your knuckles, as he fucks you along his tongue.
“Gonna come, oh–fuck,” you choke. You want him to come too, in your mouth, on your face if that's what he wants. But by some glitch in the universe, Soonyoung is able to hold back and you’re the one racing to the finish first. “Oh my god, Soonyoung, fuck.”
You jerk him off, grip tight despite the slick mess of spit and pre-cum. It doesn’t help that ever squeeze at the swollen head sends a moan straight into your clit, forcing you hips to rut desperately.
“Don’t stop. Just, shit – need a little more—”
You pull one his hands away to take over your short strokes, spitting into his palm and squeezing until he figures out what you want; to watch him touch himself while eating you out. The contrast of his fingers tangled between your own, both glistening because Soonyoung is just as close as you are, gets you there.
“Close.” Thighs locked, you suffocate him but Soonyoung doesn’t complain. A palm at the base of your spine forces you down when you shy away from the edge. “Oh, oh, oh!”
A sting of your nails into his thigh is all the warning either of you get. Back arched tight, eyes clenched, you shudder through it. Soonyoung doesn’t stop, sucking away the fresh wave of arousal, tongue verging on punishing against your clit as you sink.
“Okay, that's enough—god,” your voice breaks. “Enough.”
You fall to the side, face first into the covers without effort to soften the blow. The lower half of your body is numb but you can feel his hand skating up the back of your calf.
“Good?” he asks, all too aware of the issue; the smirk is clear in his tone, happy to see you strung out from a few minutes on his mouth.
“Shut up,” you warn but the bite isn’t in it. The urge to kick him in the head is there but none of the energy.
“Are you tapping out on me or…?”
The sound of the drawer pauses in case you say no but the idea of not feeling him inside you sounds like the worst thing you’ve ever heard.
“You’re not that good,” you mumble into the blanket. “Fuck me like this, you promised you’d do all the work. Remember?”
“Like this?” he hums, rubbing the head of his cock back through the mess with admiration.
He obeys with a wet kiss to your shoulder, parting your legs and sliding between without a word. You soak in the stretch, ass arched into his hips to take it all. The cold bites down your back when Soonyoung leans back to watch.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he whines. “Shit.”
He drives into you with a bruising pace, betrayed by his own need to come after having you on his mouth without a tease of relief. You arch into it, the head of his cock dragging deep inside pushing disgusting noises from your lips you pray his roommates aren’t around to hear.
“Spank me.”
He loses it for a second. A rough thrust pushing you down the bed and he scrambles to follow. “Seriously?”
“Do it,” you bark.
The first strike is weak. More of a firm caress than the sting you crave; hesitant to push for too much too fast lest you take away any privilege he has.
“Harder.”
The next impact comes hard enough to burn an outline of his hand. And another one that makes your tongue feel too big for your own mouth.
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” you whine. “More.”
Arms pinned beneath your torso, all you can do is lay there and take it. Nerves gone, he spanks you like it’s second nature. Like he’s thought about it before.
“Good?” he asks. Sounds more like a beg for validation. That he’s the one driving you crazy, molding your insides to his cock until it’s all you can think about.
“So good, f–fuck me so good.”
“Yeah?” he breathes against your neck, a hand wedging beneath your hips to drag against your clit in messy strokes. “You’re so hot, fuck.”
There will be a bruise to hide come morning but you can’t care. The slap of his hips against your ass, the flame of his hand still lingering on your ass, his cock drilling your insides; there's no room for anything but Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung.
You arch your back to feel him deeper only to have him pull out completely on the next stroke.
“No!” you protest, racing to keep him inside.
It’s no use, Soonyoung flips you on your back before you can convince him otherwise. He hooks your knees over his elbows, spreading you wide and driving home in one smooth push with his teeth at your neck.
“Gonna come,” he begs, voice weak. You know his game, what makes him tick and come so hard he goes blind.
“Not yet,” you warn. A rough twist in his hair only works against his thinning resolve and that's exactly why you pull harder until his hips kick into a jilted rhythm.
“I can’t – please – I can’t—”
“Not yet,” you gasp. He’s deep, right in the back of your throat making you foggy. “Be a g–good boy and wait until I tell you.”
Hips frantic, voice cracking, he tries to hold off; knows it's better when you tell him exactly what to do. Makes him choke into your chest.“Fuck, fuck!”
“Tell me how bad you want it. How much you love this pussy.”
“Love it, love your pussy.” He folds in half on top of you, desperate. Every drive of his cock into your center forcing your own desperate noises out. “Please let me come for you.”
“Look at me,” you demand. The command in your voice is paper thin but you're both too lost. His eyes are glassy, frantic to do whatever you ask if it means he can come. “Beg for it.”
“P–please,” he whimpers through gritted teeth. “Please let me come. Need it, wanna come. Please. Please!”
He’s too good to edge. Perfectly pliant to any demand and it makes you want to give him whatever he wants. “Give it to me. Fuck me through it. Let me feel you come for me.”
He latches onto your breast, sucking your nipple as his hips turn sloppy. You won’t come again but you don’t need to. Satiated with the choked whimpers of your name as he swells against your walls, forcing himself as deep as possible like he’s fucking you raw and full of his cum.
Maybe someday you’ll let him.
Your hips are sore from being forced in half so long but you won’t move away until Soonyoung comes back down. Less from your own will power, more because you’re running on fumes and might fall asleep with him still inside you. He gives a few more pathetic twitches and then goes slack.
“Oh my god,” he groans. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Welcome to the club,”
With the grand finale complete, your aching muscles give out completely. You can’t even laugh when one of his hands moves to check your pulse.
“Oh my god,” Soonyoung gasps. “I killed you with my dick.”
“You didn’t kill me.” Your skin is sticky with sweat in the worst places but it’s a problem for later.
“A man can dream,” he says wistfully.
“Of homicide by cock?”
“Of dick game strong enough to murder someone.”
He rubs his nose along yours, breathes mingling in a lazy kiss as exhaustion creeps over your both.
“Your face smells like pussy.” You slouch into the mattress, deadweight while taking all of his like the perfect blanket.
He kisses you again, tongue teasing at your lips until you give the very real threat of teeth against it and he backs away. “Your mouth tastes like cock so I guess we’re even. C'mon we need to shower again.”
“Nooooooo,” you grumble, clinging to him in an effort to delay the chill waiting to invade between you.
“At least let me get a rag.”
Your legs tighten around his waist, locked at the ankle for dramatic effect. “If you pull out I’ll cry.”
“Words every man wants to hear,” he hums into your cheek with a kiss. “But my dick is sore and we both smell.”
“Fine.”
When he pulls away you feel empty; devastatingly so. But you don’t ask him to comeback. Just pout at the loss and revel in placating pampering you receive in return.
He goes through the steps with familiarity. Wiping away the mess between your legs, tossing your shirt back up from the floor but you forgo it, choosing to sleep naked much to Soonyoung’s delight.
You use his chest as a pillow, curled into his side and tucked under his chin. The steady beat of his heart lulls you off. The last thing you register, on the hazy perimeter at the edge of sleep, is his fingers at your cheek and the ghost of a kiss on your forehead.
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