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eoieopda · 5 months

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one to ten | jww

summary: your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying. pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader au: roommates to ?, pining, sick fic type: drabble (hurt/comfort, fluff) rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact with my content. cw: gn!spoonie!reader; downbad!best boi!super shy!roommate!wonu; chronic illness/pain is implied but no diagnosis is specified; hand-holding 👁️👄👁️; barely proofread because brain fog, lol. a/n: this is super self-indulgent and based on my own personal experience with chronic illness (fibromyalgia), so it may be different than yours!! wc: 1k

Wonwoo isn’t psychic, but he knows that something is up the second he gets home from work.

Walking through the door of your shared apartment, he moves immediately to deposit his keys on the nearby hook and finds that yours are already there. Odd, he thinks, given your habit of imposing your own overtime. Your commute is shorter than his, and you still never beat him back here.

He looks down as he toes off his shoes, carefully maneuvering them across the mat to avoid both your heels and your sneakers, which don’t seem to have budged since this morning. Wonwoo frowns. It’s rare for you to skip out on the gym at the end of the day, but it’s unheard of for you to miss work — even when you should, in his non-expert opinion.

That’s a bit of a red flag, he’ll admit.

Wonwoo locks the door behind him, pads off across the kitchen and through the adjoining living room, and eventually stops at your bedroom door. It’s cracked open — a secret code of yours, he’s learned. One that means you don’t want to be alone, but you feel the need to warn him about what’s on the other side. Usually, it’s you, deflated in your bed in a way that you find embarrassing. Still, even on your worst days, he’s never seen you look bad.

He’s not convinced that you could if you tried.

Softly, Wonwoo raps his knuckles against the doorframe to warn you. In response, he gets a muffled, “Hello?” It wraps around his heart and squeezes just a little. He loves that about you; how gentle your voice is when everything else you’re experiencing feels the opposite.

You lift your head up just enough to make eye contact with him as he slips through the doorway, and you smile. If it aches to do so, you pretend like it doesn’t.

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”

Admittedly, this is the part that Wonwoo feels he’s worst at. He’s never quite sure what to ask or what he can do to help, always simultaneously afraid of being patronizing or too hands-off. It’s a balancing act; his equilibrium is off.

And, god, he’s so shy when it comes to you. He can’t make himself act on any of the comforting impulses he absolutely has, so he simply pauses at the end of your bed and sweeps his eyes over your frame. A triage of sorts, he supposes.

You’re on your right side, hugging a hot water bottle, and there’s a Munchlax plush between your knees to keep them separated. Your left hip hurts, he guesses. It’s probably safe to assume that the rest of you does, too. Crinkling his nose as he thinks, he asks, “One to ten?”

Another code.

Wonwoo has to adjust the scale when you answer — three — because your three is his eleven. The good news isn’t lost on him, though: Your pain was a six during the last flare. Things may not be great, but they’ve definitely been worse.

“Mostly just tired,” you sigh, as if you can hear the calculations he’s running in his head. “I was this close —” You lift an arm and pull your thumb and index finger in so that they’re almost touching. “— to making it out the door this morning.”

Dropping your arm again slowly, you pat the space next to you in silent invitation. Wonwoo’s body hesitates, even though his pulse doesn’t. It’s par for the course, unfortunately for him.

He wonders how many moments like this need to pass before his palms don’t sweat anymore. Will filling the spot next to you on your bed, on the couch, or even in your passenger seat ever not affect him like this?

Maybe not.

He’s okay with that, so long as you keep giving him the opportunity.

You laugh, and it single-handedly diffuses the tension in his posture. “I think the side of the bathtub got taller. I almost had to yell for you to haul me out of there, but I managed.”

“Proud of you.” He’s chuckling now, too, but that doesn’t undermine how much he means it. Getting your body to cooperate with you is always hardest in the mornings.

For what it’s worth, he would’ve come running if you’d called.

Carefully, Wonwoo sits down on the vacant side of your bed and scoots closer to you, knowing you’ll call him out for leaving distance and anticipating how badly he'll blush if you do. It’s so much easier for you to be close to people than it is for him, but he’s trying.

He hopes you see that.

There’s a microscopic wince when you wiggle your way towards him. It’s replaced quickly by a satisfied little grin once you settle, your body curving around his bent knee like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

“You always run warm,” you muse. “I’m jealous.”

Wonwoo blinks, a little dumbfounded that you’ve noticed — not that he should be, really. He’s obviously picked up on a lot of trivia about you since you took over his former roommate’s lease several months back. If he knows the order of your skin care routine, it’s not weird for you to know that he can’t sleep without a fan on.

Should he have noticed this about you by now?

Curiosity makes him bold, apparently. He pulls his palm off the mattress and touches his fingertips to the back of your hand. “Goddamn,” he whistles.

His hypothesis is proven the second he touches you — you’re freezing — but Wonwoo admittedly gets a kick out of the temperature disparity. He can’t help but run the pads of his fingers absentmindedly over your skin, tracing nonsense patterns. You can’t help the pleased hum that slips out of you as you watch his ministrations; or the way your heavy eyelids start to interrupt your view.

Even when he’s sure you’ve been lulled to sleep, Wonwoo keeps doodling. It’s got to be exhausting to exist in a body that always aches, and you deserve whatever rest you can get. Truth be told, he could probably stay like this for hours if that would help. He’d be doing the same thing at his PC, anyways, holding a mouse instead of your hand.

Yeah, he thinks, this is a much better set-up.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo hurt/comfort #jww #jade writes #jade’s drabbles #re: one to ten #kvanity

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angelwoozi · 11 months

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silk (m)

pairing: wonwoo x reader (afab)

summary: an enigma, that's what he is. his touch is careful, with conviction — and you can feel it in your bones. his sight has always been sinful. but what happens when your boyfriend insists to obstruct your view, and your free reign to touch him by using his silk? yeah, a lot.

genre: smut, pwp, established relationship, 18+

wordcount: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, kissing, blindfold, bondage, orgasm denial, fingering, use of gendered pet names (my love, queen, pretty), unprotected sex (stay safe!), use of ties, overstimulation.

note: an alternative summary? blindfold + bondage with wonwoo lol. also, minors stay away !!! listen to belong to you by sabrina claudio for mood ;) + thanks to @sluttyminghao , @multi-kpop-fanfics and @lovelyhan for helping me by proofreading this :) thankyou for making me less anxious about this hehe

angelwoozi masterlist

The dull ache between your thighs doesn't help you to act sane, especially when you feel Wonwoo's lips trail down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You want to cry out loud, for god's sake. The fact that your hands can't move on their own accord is infuriating. The silk around your wrist is not tight, but it binds your hands together pretty firmly. With them over your head, and back arching, you are laid down prettily for him to devour you.

Your lips form a gasp when you feel his tongue peek out and catch your hardened nipple between his lips. You are naked, woven in his silk sheets, like a sinful gift. Your toes curl when Wonwoo takes your other boob in his palm, caressing your mound softly.

"You feel so soft." he murmurs around your nub and your feet tremble a little. You wanna smack him for tying your hands, but you can't do that. You want to watch the beautiful sight of him devouring you unravel in front of your eyes, but you can't do that too. As your bastard of a boyfriend has blindfolded you.

One of his ties covers your eyes, letting you see nothing but the faint red and darkness. He had come home quite tired, and when he had removed his tie, you had taken it in your hands and twirled it around – with no intentions that may be the cause of your situation right now.

It was all him, all hot at seeing you in your skimpiest pajamas on the bed, playing with his tie. It didn't take him long to rush to the wardrobe and procure another piece of his silk. He had discarded his shirt on his short way to the bed, and had then proceeded to climb all over you like a man starved. You had gleefully invited his sloppy kisses and jumbled words – filled with praises and groans. When his incoherent words had suggested getting you blindfolded, the thrill had sent a jolt down your spine, your eyes gleaming with excitement.

You almost kick your leg up when you feel his other hand inching towards your center. You know the conviction in his touch, and the heat that spreads through your body is indecipherable.

"Wonwoo please." you sigh out and he grunts against your skin, making you arch your back a little more. "Please take this cloth off." you are proud of yourself for even speaking a whole sentence without slurring.

His mouth detaches from your nipple, and even though you can't see him, you know how he looks. Like a devil bathed in the soft glow of sin, his lips are always wet, and flushed. His hair has always been shaggy, and unkempt – but you doubt this time it is, given that your hands haven't yet found solace in his locks. It's like torture, and you crave for more when you don't feel his tongue on your skin.

"What would be the fun in that, my love?" His voice is hoarse, deep like the ocean, and the laugh he lets out turns everything inside you into jelly.

"I want, I want to see you." you painfully let out, punctuating your sentence with a surprised gasp because you feel his finger rubbing circles right above your center. Your hands thrash and fall back onto the bed, and you moan out loud, keening under him.

"You should look at yourself, not me." he begins and your breath turns ragged almost immediately, at his voice. It's like the sound is seeping through the pores of your skin and shooting a stimulant right down, to your core. You can drown in him, falling in deep forever. Your lips part open in an instant as his fingers trail lower, slowly but precisely, knowing their way around your body like the back of his hand.

"Huh?" is your mindless reply and he laughs, sending shivers through your body.

"You look so beautiful, all laid out for me." his lips start their descent down your body by kissing a soft path, making your insides flutter. The action is soft, but the intensity is wild and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from whimpering in his hold.

He kisses a spot below your navel and nuzzles his nose against your skin, with his hands holding your hips to stop you from squirming,"Do you know what this sight of yours does to me?"

You clench your fists. Stretching your legs and assaulting your lip with your teeth, you let out a meek, "I may have an idea."

He laughs lowly, as if mocking you – and you didn't know you were going to find it so fucking hot. Slowly, you feel him creeping up your body, his hand still dancing at your core, while the other comes to your neck.

It's like dipping your feet in the cold water, wary at first, but then wanting more and more. The feeling drives you, as your fists unclench them and you beckon him to you, holding your hands a little above your head. You hear rustling, and your head shoots up a little, anticipating his next move. The touch of silk on your skin makes you feel luxe, but the touch of your love, as he moves his hands all over your upper body makes you feel heavenly.

It's all of a sudden that you feel his hot breath against your lips, and the ghost of his forearms beside your head. Your chin tilts towards him on its own accord, and a single exhale of his, against you makes your brain go haywire. Especially when he takes you by surprise by moving smoothly, sly like a fox, and gracefully like a swan.

You move your tied hands, but he pins them down with a single movement of his. His fingers intertwine themselves with yours, and he presses down on your palm lightly, directing you to stay still. You keen under him, opening up your lips in a silent invitation, but what he does next pulls all the breath out of you.

He presses his hips against yours, his pelvis on yours, and the sudden feeling of his length against your thigh makes you moan against his lips.

"Now do you know what you do to me?" is his deep grunt, and he grinds against you, making you arch your back and pant in all your glory.

"Y-yes." you stutter and immediately feel his lips on your jaw. Albeit the touch of his plump lips against your skin is feather light, it ignites a fiery glow within you, all from your bones. His free arm hovers beside your boob, and he traces a finger all down to your center, again, leaving fire in its wake.

"Wonwoo, please," you sigh out and he leaves a meek kiss beside your lips, urging you to speak, "Please, fuck me." You almost forget the fact that you can't see, his actions not letting your mind linger at one place for too long. He is a devil in between the sheets, and it should be pathetic how gone you already are, when he has hardly touched you. But you feel no shame, still folding towards him, like a metal in his magnetic field.

"As you say, my queen. But won't we need to get you ready for me?" Yes, God yes. You know what needs to be done in order for you to take him, and you thrash your hands, again getting pinned down by him. The excitement and anticipation is through the roof for you to stay sane anymore.

"Relax, baby." is his reply and you don't know when, or how, but suddenly a finger is parting up your folds.

Your legs spread instinctively, and he settles between your thighs like he belongs there. His longest finger traces a path from your clit to your cunt, and you whimper, shuddering like crazy. You think you hear him laugh, but your mind is too hazy for you to make sense of anything at all.

His lips find the valley of your breasts, and he licks a path up. You think he might be looking like a stealthy beast, eyes shining with lust, set on you, and tongue flat on your bones, making you shiver. You tilt your head, your eyes pressed tightly with a painful countenance. His finger finds your clit and he rubs circles over it, making you hiss and preen.

His mouth is hardly an inch from your neck, his finger still moving languidly on your nub. The fire that awoke beneath your skin was relentless, making you crave for more. You purr under him, kissing his skin with yours as you shift in a way that your breast brushes his clavicle.

You thrash your hands when he presses down on your clit, eliciting a moan from you. The insensitivities slip past your lips, and he groans when your legs tremble.

"Baby you are so wet." is his word and you revel in it. You want to say 'for you, only' but your clouded brain only allows you to manage a weak nod. The air that you take in is heavy, and hot and your skin burns, making you gasp for it.

Soon, his finger finds your cunt, and he plunges it inside, making you moan out loud. It is madness, the way he curls his digit inside you, causing a wave of pleasure to gush at your center. He groans when he feels your wetness soaking his hand, and you clench around him. He lays a kiss on your jaw, and starts moving his finger at a painful pace.

"Wonwoo." you try to open your eyes, but your eyelids fall back again. You writh under him and he sensually kisses your skin, his tongue licking stripes over your beauty.

"It's like you are sucking me in," he says and you clench around his fingers again. Rightfully so. His lips form a breathless laugh and yours get clamped under your teeth, as you stop yourself from uttering insensitivities. His finger works smoothly, and his thumb presses down on your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you – making you throw away all your previous thoughts of staying quiet out of the fucking window.

His lips are still on your torso, making you squirm in place, and your breaths get heavier as you hiss. The pleasure clouds your brain, and you feel him press down on you eagerly, waiting for you to unfold for him. You bring your hands in front of your chest, brushing them over your skin and shuddering at the cold touch. The feeling of his digits inside you, and the sheer intensity of his lips worshiping your form has you on the edge, almost tumbling. You cry out loud, and just before you tell him that you are close, he pulls away, your cunt empty and devoid of his touch– devoid of him.

"Wonwoo?" you squirm, your chest rising and deflating with disappointment on being left high and not so dry, "Why did you stop?" your whisper is weak, a sigh breaking through the heavy air.

"Because I'd like you to come around my cock, my love."

That's like a knife to your gut. Except– its sharp edge is covered in the sweetest of nectar, and as it twists inside you, the nectar spreads through your veins, entrancing you in the sweet, exciting rush. Your lips exhale a breath and you fall back on the bed, your hair wound around you in shapes, and strings of beauty. The anticipation is through the roof at this point, and you are yearning for him like a parched person, walking in a desert.

Your eyes still face darkness when you feel his lips ghost over yours, a silent invitation to entice you into him– if you hadn't already been. You tip your head up and find him, causing him to press down and make you fall on the pillow again. His lips move against yours like they have their own mind, a practiced routine, a drop of love. There's a lingering touch on your waist, and you register his body moving up, trying to adjust himself between your legs.

"Spread your legs for me, pretty." he voices against your lips in a breathy sigh and your mind reels as you instinctively part your legs, allowing him solace between your thighs. You don't know when he got rid of his garments, but it's soon that you feel his tip poking your entrance, making you gasp against him.

"Ah, so wet. You wish you could look at how my cock is already drenched because of you, don't you?" he groans and you almost shout out loud. The sensory deprivation is making you run miles an hour, and making your other senses at an all time high. His tip nudges your folds, making its way inside you and you moan out loud– a pathetic nod to reply to him, because you are rendered way too speechless for your own good.

Of course, you would like to see the point where you two meet, a filthy promise. Your wrists still don't feel the pain, but your mind, which yearns to touch him, and to see him, sure as hell does.

"Only your sight and hands are restricted, baby. Not your tongue." he says, and bottoms out in one go, making you cry out loud and tighten your fists around nothing, your pussy clenching around him, while you attempt to register the sudden shock.

"Yes, yes, Wonwoo." you moan out, and you could swear he smirked, even if you can't see it.

Soft whimpers fall out of your lips like petals as he starts moving, his pace sure and slow. His hands pin you down as they travel up to your palms and interlock his fingers with yours, pressing down as his forehead stays on yours, his hot breath mixing with yours as his hips work.

The intimacy has butterflies flying in your stomach, and the curve of his cock inside your cunt has you fighting for your breath. You take him in, you drink him in, and a prolonged groan reverberates against your lip when your love increases his pace, his length hitting you at all the right places, making you mewl under him.

You tightly hold onto his fingers, scared that you'll slip away if you let go. Your voice breaks, and the slick sound of skin hitting skin echoes across the quiet room, enhanced by your whimpers, "Please, baby."

"Please? You would like me to go faster?" is his question, and you nod eagerly, hoping he has his eyes open and set on you.

You think he did have his eyes open, because the next second his hips snap into yours, sending your whole body up the bed. You suddenly shout out, your nails digging into his hands as he laughs low– before beginning the most ruthless pace ever.

"Oh my god, Wonwoo," you moan, and his lips start peppering kisses on your skin, the fire burning faster at the wet touch. His lips stay at a place above your eyebrows when you feel his hand on the tie around your wrist, him fucking into you like a man starved of sex. Your walls clench around him, and he sighs out your name, the sound catching your attention like a firefly in the darkest of nights – it relights you.

"Do you know how sinful you look right now?" his voice is deep and low against your skin, and you would've missed it if your senses hadn't been on an all time high, catching the faintest of squeaks. You whine at his words, thrashing your hands of only to tell him to stop saying things so harmful for you, but he still carries on, "Like a work of art, woven in my silk, for me."

That's the meanest thing he could ever say to you, especially when you can't touch him, can't see him. It's like torture, the way you love him. You clench around him again, before speaking, "Please untie me, I wanna touch you."

He thrusts into you, quick and deep and you feel a familiar knot building up in your core– yet one more knot which makes your pleasure skyrocket. He just laughs at your words, his thumb inching closer to the silk, yet never touching it– testing you and your already barely there sanity.

"You can touch me later all you want, my love. I am all yours."

Fuck.

You are sure there are marks on his skin, because of the insensitivities of your nails digging in it, his words just making you feel more. His cock fucks you like a beast, and you had a thought you'd see red even if your vision hadn't been obstructed.

Behind closed eyes, you also see the edge nearing, and between moans and the sound of the bed squeaking, mixed with the continuous slapping of skin against skin– you tell him that, "Wonu, I am close."

"Hold up for me, baby. Just for a while." he groans and your body jerks with his force, him easily bottoming inside you with each and every snap of his hips.

"I can't," you cry out, on the verge of tears as your body tries to hold on tight to anything it can find, "Please let me come."

There's a long lasting moment wherein you feel like your guts are being rearranged by his now sloppy thrusts before he speaks, "Let it go, come for me." in a sigh against your lips and you quite literally melt.

You come around his cock– just like he had wished, and your body falls limp on the bed as your high takes over you, making you see stars and even try to reach out for them, if you could move your hands then. If you could reach out to him, you would, and exactly when that thought hits you, you feel a weight on your hands– one that unravels another knot of yours, this time making you almost scream out with joy.

You tiredly flex your hands, before bringing them above your head, slowly, cautiously. You know he is still moving, the feel of his thick cock inside you succeeding at keeping your body on fire, and barely controlled whimpers. As soon as you bring your hands above your head, they touch his skin, and it's as if your touch is a trigger for him, because he immediately sighs out,

"Y/N,"

Oh how sweet it sounds. You wrap your hands around his neck and Instinctively bring him closer to your face, hoping your movements to be precise as you feel his breath fan over your hot skin.

"Kiss me, please."

The quietly whispered plea, and the slight touch of his lips against yours is all that takes for the man to break down, and spill inside you. His cum is hot, coating your walls, and he moans your name loudly against your lips, you feeling the ghost of his hands bracing themselves beside your face as he steadies himself.

He rides out his orgasm, and you feel a slight twinge as you feel it overbearing for your pussy– his cock overstimulating you.

"S-stop, it hurts."

He immediately stops moving and rests his forehead against yours. You feel his chest brush yours with each heavy breath you both take, in a harmony.

"I love you." he says, and it's music to your ears, completing the incomplete song and making you sigh– all while you try to calm yourself down.

It's when you say those words back that he pushes the cloth blinding you over your eyebrow, causing you to squint your eyes to adjust to the sudden change. But when your eyes open fully, the only red that you see (which you had thought you would), is if you colorize the emotion which reflects in his eyes as they stare deep into yours–

Love.

💌 thankyou for reading this! i would appreciate any and every kind of feedback— be it comments, reblogs or asks.