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#you needy baby with a humiliation kink
walkinginlothlorien · 3 months
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Myung-ha: Enters a game to woo the Second ML to improve his life.
Also Myung-ha: Accidentally creates a Secondary Second ML out of Sang Woo
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blurboki · 9 months
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✩ ≫ GIVING STRAYKIDS HEAD WHILE HE’S LIVE
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including. ot8 | pairing. skz x fem! reader | genre. smut - MINORS DNI | warnings. blowjob/handjob (m. rec), mentions of begging, mentions of a breeding kink, voyeurism, nicknames, mentions of using toys, humiliation, cum-eating, facial (f. rec), hair pulling, dubcon, felix cums inside, degradation, overstimulation, gagging, deep-throating, d/s dynamics
authors note. ty for requesting! i hope you don’t mind how wild i got with this.. seungmin’s made me feral (please tell me if i missed anything in the warnings!!)
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CHAN :
would be so smiley n cute :((
until you kneel down and the realization hits
you can see his expressive eyes go “oh? oh.” in five second flat
the way you’re looking up at him? he’s twitching in his pants, trying his hardest to pay attention to chan’s room
definitely says something like: “alright! let’s get onto the next song, yeah?” while furiously turning up the volume to drown out his soft huffs of breath, plump lips parted to exhale deeply
the way he utterly shudders when you lick from his shaft all the way up to his leaking head has the dreamiest sigh falling from your mouth
the way you’re testing his patience makes him want to fuck you silly 🙈🙈
plays it off as if he was adjusting in his chair, meek smile giving away none of your naughtiness
once you start taking him into your mouth though, he reaches a hand to your hair, forcing you to down him
squeezes his eyes shut from the feeling of your throat swallowing him alongside the toe-curling whine you whimpered in response
most likely pretended to yawn to conceal his fucked-out face and the obscene sound of you gagging on him, babydoll eyes welling with tears
omg the way he looks down at you after that ?admiring your smudged mascara and the drool coating your lips and chin ?? pls eat me sir
“unfortunately, that’ll be the last song for this live, thank you Stay for joining me today..” he says, nonchalantly thumbing at your bottom lip to wipe the residue sitting there
legs spread and cock flushed against his abdomen, you come to realize rather quickly that you got yourself into something dangerous…
MINHO :
he’d prob be doing a live in the meeting room when you arrive, gazing at you pushing chairs out of the way to make him think you’re planning to sit down
till you settle between his legs and the realization dawns
has the most attractive, challenging stare ever watching you go to town
tbh minho is fucking terrifying with his self control in and outside of the bedroom
like he’d be able to answer questions and act completely normal despite his dick being halfway down your throat
pretends to laugh at a comment when instead he reached a hand under and toyed with your clit, gathering your wetness on two fingers to smear on the side of your lips
what he was laughing at? how pathetic you sounded mewling and dripping with need as if you weren’t the one who decided to give him head rn
would def end the live a tad bit early, finally succumbing to the handjob you provided where he came all over your face with the sluttiest moan
10/10 would bend you over and fuck you on the table after
10/10 would keep your legs out of business for a good five to six days (i stand by my claim)
CHANGBIN :
binnie is so fucking transparent idek if he could hide it
but like, he makes weird noises anyways so tbh stay probably wouldn’t bat an eye
sooo needy
gently grabs your chin while you kitty lick his mushroom tip and gives you most pleading stare
if he could’ve telepathically communicated, he would definitely been begging
funny considering how he basically bred you into the mattress the night before , right?
you resort to kissing his swollen cock, ensuring he’s watching when you collect his beading precum on a finger, bringing it up to your lips
to say he held back a moan doesn’t even cut it, poor baby might’ve bit his tongue off atp from your adorable eye contact and the mere image alone
gets frantic enough he blasts gods menu full volume and “suddenly” gets a text from Hyunjin saying he “needs to go”
a.k.a needs to blow
dude absolutely explodes
his moans are the cutest by far >>>
cums all over your face muttering soft “please please please” over and over while his fat cock basically ropes messy strings
he swore he’s never came harder in his life
andddd that’s how you got introduced to edging changbin!!!
jk, it just fueled your obsession with it further ;)
HYUNJIN :
prob the cutest of them all when you give him head under the table
he just feels so good and loved from your attention and the pleasure
has the dreamiest of smiles the entire time despite the music being obnoxiously loud to hide the sound
stays love this live bc of how cute he looked the entire time
lots conspired that he was drunk or smthn bc of how smiley he was, cheeks dusted pink
pretended to drop something so he could groan under the table, thigh twitching and abs tightening as he approached his orgasm
definitely grabs your head before he came, brows slightly knit and lips parted as he met your eyes
so fucking sweet after he cums, petting your head and running a light hand on your cheek where his cum smears
pops his thumb in your mouth, softly wiping your bottom lip of his essence
he’s literally delighted i cannot make this up
totally nonchalant apart from groaning under the table which he hid from view
expect either the softest or hardest sex afterwards
like you’re going to either be carried because your legs are out of commission or because he’s feeling romantic :((
HAN :
.. stay are prob getting an equally good treat too
and no they don’t know what was going on, they just know how from a certain timestamp in his most recent live his voice got a whole lot more attractive
expect a sudden raspy pitch, clicking his tongue casually as if his partner wasn’t spoiling him
on any other day he’d be stupidly whiny, crying from the pleasure you provided
today, however, he just let himself dissolve in the ecstasy, breathing in the fresh air on cloud 9
there were some speculations from stay watching, but it only got as far as that
scary enough, he doesn’t make a sound, casually carrying out conversation and answering questions like nothing
that is until you get impatient, pressing hot kisses all over and speeding up the movement of your hand as you fist him, pretty eyes fixating on his face
aha. you see him slightly wince, bidding farewell quickly with a few over-exaggerated poses and blown kisses
stifles a groan as he approached his high, tracing the corner of your lips as he grumbles an excessively attractive:
“now stick your tongue out, ‘don’t what you missing a drop.”
then proceeds to cum all over your lips n mouth, thumbing away some of his residue there
“you’re so messy, bunny, ‘have to teach you some manners, hm?”
FELIX :
he gets so cocky
and it’s one of the hottest things on the planet
watches you through half-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans, taking him into your mouth
i feel like no matter how hard you try to rile him up, it just makes him cockier and gives him a visible ego boost
like, not a ‘thinking with my dick only’ type of ego boost, more of a ‘why tf aren’t you reacting rn, please fuck me already at this point’ sort of ego boost
this man most likely turn off the music just to play it risky, forcing you down on his dick when you get too loud
reads comments as you literally deep throat him, eyes tearing up with how he keeps bumping the back of your throat
it’s insane
lifts a brow daringly as he reads a particular comment and you swear you would’ve moaned so fucking loud if it weren’t for him cruelly shoving fingers into your mouth as you fisted him with a hand
breathily sighs as you work faster, blinking a bit slower and hesitating with his answers—a telltale sign he’s close
definitely ends the live earlier, quickly taking off your bottoms to pull you onto his lap and paint your cunt white
voices the most guttural groan, adams apple bobbing as he fills you so full of him
he’s convinced there is absolutely nothing he loves more than stuffing your pussy, nothing
SEUNGMIN :
i will sit in the grave believing seungmin is one of the most god-teir men alive when it comes to head
another rbf (resting bitch face) king btw!!
meanest but also nicest ?? i can’t explain take this how you want
prob sings a song while you suck him off i cannot😭😭
you’d most likely be more affected than he is (or you just can’t tell), bc you’ll be a moaning mess from how nonchalantly he’s already shoved two fingers inside your cunt, guiding your head into a steady rhythm with a spare hand
smiles every time you mewl on his cock, hungrily watching your hips stutter while his fingers curl and rub your pussy sooo good
lmao i bet he hits a high note when you cream(and when he cums too), drowning out the desperate cries you sob from his lap
ends the live without even a trace of what happened, pulling your hair roughly so you meet his eyes, tears freely rolling down your cheeks
“you wanted this so don’t act like you didn’t. open.” he instructs, and you obediently open your mouth for him, showing him your tongue and lips painted with his cum
“swallow.”
his face when you swallow oml he loves seeing his baby behave
mumbles quiet “good girl”’s when you take his fingers coated in your juices into your mouth
honestly.. i could see him buzzing your puffy clit w a bullet vibrator afterwards while you sit on his dick, cooing as you fall apart on top of him, telling you it’s a “reward” while you’re overstimulated and sensitive beyond belief
JEONGIN :
kind of like hyunjin with his unpredictability, he’s either stone cold or an innocent baby
today, however, he was definitely needy, looking adorably confused when you sauntered through the doorway
gasps when you slip under the desk, eyes turning into round saucers as you carefully rid him of his pants then boxers
has to pause on multiple occasions to pull himself together, occasionally turning his head away from the camera to express the overwhelming feeling of your tongue
leaks a quiet, oh so quiet whine in the midst of laughing at a comment
poor bub gets an army of comments asking if he’s feeling sick from how flushed he is
cutie can’t admit how amazing you make him feel 🤭
ends the live abruptly, literally only thinking about cumming in your mouth
desperate AF when he starts mumbling, pulling you off of him to stick out your tongue as he frantically fists his dick, beads of pre-cum decorating the swollen tip
“oh god oh god oh god— cumming, ‘gonna cum, in your mouth? baby please please wanna cum in your mouth— yeah just like that, good girl- fuck-“ is just an example of his barely intelligible moaning
trust that he came hard, strings of apologies falling off his pink lips at the mess he made of your face
oml if you keep sucking him off afterwards?? overstimulated innie is the cutest thing ever
expect lots of begging and neediness 😍
blurboki, july 2023 ©
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taegimood · 4 months
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— phone sex with bestfriend!taehyun ♡ [one-shot]
pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.1k warnings: smut, perv!reader, dom!tyun, pet names (baby, angel, princess), brief use of daddy kink, mutual masturbation, light degradation (reader receiving)
a/n - we always talk abt perv!txt but what about perv!reader…
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it’s not always easy being friends with tomorrow x together. with your vastly opposite schedules, you always end up in bed already by the time your best friend taehyun calls for your daily check-ins with each other — though covertly you’re glad for the late timing, because you have a dirty little secret: it means that you get to hear his deep, sleepy, sexy voice right in your ear every night. not that you could ever tell him that.
it wasn't always this way; there was a time when taehyun didn't make your heart skip a beat and your pussy throb, when even the thought of him in such a light as this would cause your nose to wrinkle up in disgust. he's your best friend, after all. how could you ever see him as anything different?
but then his gym membership started. or maybe it was the way that he grew out his hair. or the new glasses that soobin convinced him to try wearing.. or even the sweatshirts you'd forget in his dorm that he'd always end up walking around in himself, sweatshirts that returned swimming in the scent of him each time you got them back. whatever it was, you just know that something changed in the way that you saw him. in the way that you needed him.
the thoughts you'd chase away began to turn into wet dreams — ones that you would wake up from feeling just as desperate as you were confused — and those dreams soon turned into lingering fantasies that you just couldn't shake away, no matter how shameful it felt to harbor them. and now some time later, here you are, completely wrapped around taehyun's finger without him even knowing it, willing to crumble at his feet in an instant if he asked; putty in his pretty hands with each nightly phone call that you just can never seem to get enough of.
this time you’re feeling particularly needy, however, his call coming later than usual when you just can’t stop thinking about him, about his voice; you won’t lie and say that you don’t often touch yourself while he talks to you about his day, bringing yourself to a whiny climax the minute he hangs up for the night and you’re safe to make all the noise that you want.
this time, though.. you just couldn’t wait. your shorts and panties have long since been discarded on the bed when your phone rings, and you hesitate; your mind is foggy with need, it just feels too good to stop.. you need to hear his voice so bad.. you can keep quiet, right? right?
you know that it’s wrong. you know that you shouldn’t.
but you press the green answer button with trembling fingers, biting down hard on your bottom lip to stop a moan from escaping as his low voice hums your nickname through the speaker - “hey, y/n/n. sorry i’m late.”
you take a slow breath to compose yourself before responding. “hi tyunnie. s’okay.” the conversation carries on normally at first — to him at least. you’re two fingers deep in your throbbing pussy as he’s murmuring tiredly about their latest choreography when you notice too late that taehyun has stopped speaking. you quickly curb the tiny pants that had been escaping your lips, but your fingers seem to have a mind of their own, continuing their squelching ministrations as you beg in your mind for him to continue speaking, to say something, anything.
“y/n.”
your breath hitches. your fingers pause.
something in his tone has shifted.
a few beats pass.
“are you… touching yourself?”
that does it. you can’t hold back anymore. “taehyun,” you whimper pathetically in response, head tipping back into the pillows as your eyes squeeze shut, fingers working faster as your walls squeeze around them — simultaneous with the humiliation and shame of being caught. “tyunnie, ‘m sorry, i- i just needed you so bad.. ‘m sorry-“
“where do you need me, baby?”
your brain short-circuits at the sudden switch in your best friend’s tone. at the pet name dripping from his lips. his voice is impossibly deeper and impossibly more dangerous; dangerous for your health, as you’ve never ever heard him sound so utterly sexy before. you don’t know what to say. you didn’t expect this.
“i… i..”
“use your words,” he whispers, and you can hear some shifting on his end of the line; god, you hope he’s doing what you think he’s doing.
“i.. i need you…” you swallow hard, “i need you in my… in my pussy.” your voice is small, meek, and his responsive hum sends shivers straight down to your sopping cunt.
“what’s wrong, angel? feeling shy now? when you were just in the middle of fucking yourself with those cute little fingers like a little perv as i’m over here talking about my day? tsk..” you moan, loudly, at the degradation — who knew how badly you needed him to scold you like this?
“‘m sorry.. ‘m sorry, daddy..” at this point your voice is a breathless, whiny whisper; you’re so sensitive that you’re sure the slightest breeze could blow you away right now. you don’t even realize what you said until taehyun’s deep groan cuts through the speaker.
“fuck.”
you can hear him fisting his own cock now, and you’ve never been more jealous of another person’s hand.
“keep touching yourself for me, baby. just imagine that i’m right there... bet you wish it were my fingers buried in your cunt instead, don’t you?”
“yes! ugh, yes.. please, n-need it..” your own fingers are moving impossibly faster now, the lewd wet sounds of your arousal practically pornographic, and you can tell that taehyun hears it loud and clear by the drawn-out moan that he releases from the other end.
“that’s it.. faster, baby.. got you so wet and needy, just on my voice alone, fuck.. such a little fucking pervert.. need daddy that bad? need me to fuck some sense into you?”
“uh huh!” you babble out, nodding your head fervently even though he can’t even see it, “please, please, please.. want your cock, want your fingers, want your mouth- fuck- want everything, tyunnie please, fuck, i’m-“
“cum for me, princess.”
your jaw goes slack as your orgasm wracks through you at his simple command, drool threatening to escape past your lips as you keen for him, the high-pitched, filthy moan spurred on by the sloppy sounds of his cock in his hand.
several hazy moments pass. you lay there breathless, chest heaving as you finally slide your fingers out of your soaked pussy, legs twitching residually as you stare up at your ceiling in disbelief.
no fucking way i just had phone sex with my best friend.
in your daze you don’t realize that taehyun hasn’t said anything; your brows furrow as you glance at your screen to make sure the call didn’t disconnect, but then you hear him shuffling around, the jingling sound of keys sliding off of a hook.
“taehyun..?” you question carefully. did i ruin everything? does he hate me now? does he think i’m disgusting? what if-
“don’t move. i’ll be there in 10.”
“w-what? what do you-“
“i said i’d fuck some sense into you, didn’t i? ass up, baby. i’ll see you soon.”
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marycorcaroli · 7 months
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NSFW HEADCANONS.
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characters: kenshi takahashi, sub-zero, liu kang.
words count: 1626.
warning: fem!reader only, pussy drunk kenshi, creampie, big dicks, talking during sex, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding king, maybe size kink, cuddle-fucking, missionary, cowgirl, dirty talk, full-nelson.
mary ♡: hope u like it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes ♡
rules ; masterlist.
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SUB-ZERO (BI-HAN).
— despite how he looks and how he talks, bi-han is quite gentle in bed with you and doesn't want to have too much control over you, he knows that he can intimidate you too much and maybe you will become afraid of him, which will literally kill him. he wants to show you his love that he can't put into words, but his gentle touches and sweet kisses will do the trick.
— he's not the loudest during sex, i think he's just afraid to make any sounds, but he wants to hear you all the time, the way your mouth opens and the sounds that come out of it make his cock move inside you even more. if he sees that you like the way he whimpers or moans, he'll never shut up.
– i think he's pretty shameless and will definitely tell you what he wants to do to you and describe it in every color.
— he is crazy about your breasts and how they look in his palms and the way your nipples harden just from his breath elevates his ego to the heavens. bi-han will suck your tits all the time, he just can't stop and wants to do it all the time. loves to run his tongue over it and leave his drool (he's so dirty and needy 100% canon), will probably leave hickeys around your boobs and then stare at them forever. you can be sitting with friends and he'll just say in your ear that he wants to suck your boobs and you'll be like "wtf??? u ok???"
— a fan of eye contact.
— loves to humiliate, but he'll never go too far and bring you to tears, you're too precious to him, so he mixes it up with kind words to let you know you're still the best.
"where's my favorite, slut? hey, eyes on me, baby."
"show me how much you want that cock inside you and maybe i'll make you feel good."
"don't you dare make a sound, got it? or do you want to be heard? you're that dirty, aren't you, honey?"
— he doesn't have a favorite position, anything where you achieve pleasure and love each other is fine, he likes to touch you, so he doesn't like tying you up or too much bdsm, too much spanking that will leave bruises on you or too much hickeys, no matter how much he loves you, he doesn't want anyone to know about your intimate life, but still, the position he uses most often is cuddle-fucking.
— either he's your sweetest lover who is gently pounding into you, kissing the corners of your lips and whispering sweet nothings, or he's your daddy and wants you to moan loudly for him while he's trying to beat the hell out of you and get rid of the stress.
— he is obviously bigger than you and every time you stand next to him and he sees your difference, he gets blown away and you're already on the bed.
— his favorite kinks are size kink(!), voice kink and dirty talk kink.
— the biggest and thickest cock of all three of them, i just know it and i know that his cock is constantly throbbing when he sees you. bi-han knows that before he enters you he needs to warm you up good because well...his cock is really big, i'm afraid it will rip absolute anyone.
— loves to cuddle you after sex and kiss your whole face, he will take good care of you and change all the stuff you got dirty. he wants to fall asleep in your arms and listen to your heartbeat that helps him sleep and think what he did to deserve you.
KENSHI TAKAHASHI.
— i think he's pretty gentle and doesn't want to force you into things. will insist on your wishes and what you want to do the most. he won't mind if you tell him you want to tie him up, he'll be only too happy.
— based on what he can't see, it will be a little hard for him and kenshi will constantly think he's doing something wrong and if he hears that you're hurting, um, he'll go crazy. but i know it won't come to that. kenshi loves you and respects everything you've done for him, so he wants to repay you in the most wonderful ways every time.
— kenshi can't live a day without licking you and tasting you. He loves the way you wiggle his tongue and the beautiful sounds you make, he's in heaven because of you. kenshi dreams of meeting you after a hard day and asking you to sit on his face so you can get rid of the stress and soak his face in your juices. i think kenshi likes any position where he can suck your clit and kiss your folds.
— he doesn't have the fastest pace, more like a medium pace so you can enjoy this beautiful moment. but if you ask him he will go wild, even with a blindfold he will make sure you can't walk normally the next day. he loves you so he will take care of you ♡
— not the biggest fan of hickeys, he likes kissing your skin and saying nice words more.
— words ! kenshi loves it when you talk during sex and you tell him about how good you feel and how his cock was made for your cunnie. he's still not the most confident so he needs your words of encouragement, but he'll be sure to praise you too.
"ahhh, where's my beautiful girl? you're so good for me, thank you, honey."
"come for me, baby, show daddy how much you love him."
"you understand, don't you? you were made for me and i was made for you and it's the best thing that ever happened to me."
— he can cum anywhere, anything you want, he doesn't really care and wants you to like everything, but kenshi dreams of cumming in you and imagines what your child will be like, but...that's another conversation.
— i don't think he has the biggest dick, but he's not the smallest either. he's been with girls before, i'm sure he knows how to handle it and get you shaking.
— kenshi's kinks: daddy kink, praise kink, breeding king, maybe size kink.
— he likes poses where he can kiss your face and he would love to see it and see the emotions you show, but he also wouldn't mind if you ride him aggressively. for him, the top is missionary, full-nelson and maybe cowgirl.
— he may want to try public sex but will never say so, it turns him on that someone will see you and see how well he fucks you, but your bed looks more comfortable still.
— he will take excellent care of you afterwards and will do everything at the highest level. for starters he will lie with you and kiss you on the forehead to let you know how proud he is of you. he will take a bath with you and give you a good bath. he only needs words and nothing else, he is grateful that after everything that happened you are still here and let him love you.
LIU KANG.
— and finally we have reached the most beautiful man. liu kang is a true gentleman and will faithfully wait for you to want to feel all of him, and if you don't want anything, it's okay, he won't pressure you and will instead cuddle with you for a long time.
— he obviously knows how to bring a woman to a euphoric orgasm and he's going to try it out on you. he likes to see you whimpering under him and asking him to move his fingers faster, but he doesn't want to, he likes to see what a mess you're becoming and he hasn't even gotten his cock out yet.
— he likes any part of your body and will idolize everything, but your neck and shoulders have a special effect on him when he leaves kisses and feels the goosebumps on your skin and the way you immediately want more, wow, he's crazy.
— moans for you, makes the wettest noises, whimpers, he does everything and he's not ashamed, why should he keep quiet? you make him feel so good and he wants you to hear it. really, really loves talking to you during and sex and kissing you between words.
"i don't think anyone has ever evoked the same emotions in me as you have, love, i'm so glad i met you."
"do you feel good, baby? do you want me to speed up?"
"baby, you're squeezing me so hard, i'm afraid i'm gonna cum right now, haha."
— he has a lot of favorite positions and he wants to try them with you. i think liu kang practices tying you up, but not too much so you don't get hurt. he likes to fuck you in the missionary position and then watch you ride him fast and fall off from overstimulation.
— even though he looks like a man who likes sex in public places - he really likes it, haha. wouldn't mind pleasuring you in a restaurant restroom, massaging your cunnie while you talk to your friends and taking you on a picnic where he will lick your pussy and then sit u on his face while you gently suck his throbbing cock.
— he doesn't have a lot of kinks or on the contrary too many, i still haven't really figured it out, but he likes - dirty talk, overstimulation kink and riding kink (he likes the way your tits shake when you ride him).
— the most usual medium pace, enjoying your moment and he has no rush, you have forever ahead of you and he will still have time to thrust into you from behind with all his might and pull your hair while you forget how many orgasms you have already gone through.
— the sweetest when the time comes to take care of you after sex. he will change your bed, give you a massage and bring you anything you want. you did a good job for him and now it's his turn to take care of you.
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ameliora-j · 6 months
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ur the only person i trust who can give me a filthy but soft smut of james potter fucking y/n in his ice hockey jersey
i’m honored 🥹
𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈
content: soft dom!james, cnc, hockey player!james, pr manager!girlfriend!reader, humiliation, degradation, oral (f!receiving), daddy kink, jamie talking to ur pussy, impact play, unprotected piv, creampie, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI
“james…” you groan, trying to push him away as he has you pressed up against your desk in your office. “cut it out!” you groan as he kisses down your neck.
“oh baby” james chuckles, shaking his head. james towers over you, and his ice hockey jersey are purposefully tailored to be longer and bigger on him so that they can fit over all his gear—thus causing every single one of his jerseys to be a dress on you. this—accompanied by a pair of thigh high boots—was your signature game day look. “you’re wearing the jersey, you’re asking to be split open on my cock and you know it” he chuckles lowly, nipping at your ear.
you whine, shaking your head as you push him back once more. “stop james. i’m serious, i’m not fucking you” you huff softly.
“uh huh baby… whatever you say” he murmurs, sinking to his knees and pushing your legs apart. he pushes his jersey up over your hips and tuts his tongue, shaking his head softly. “and look at that… you don’t wanna fuck but this little cunt is nice and uncovered for me” he hums, noting that you’d foregone panties—and james knew you expected this.
“my poor girl’s gonna be so cold on that ice tonight” he pouts softly, shaking his head as he rubs a thumb over your slit.
“james!” you squeak. “i’ll be fine” you shake your head.
“hush baby, do your work. ‘m talking to my girl” he chuckles softly. your eyes widen and heat rises immediately to your face as you realize james is speaking to your pussy, not you. “‘s okay pretty princess… i’ll make sure you keep warm tonight” he whispers before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your little clit.
he hums softly, his eyes rolling a bit at the taste before he wraps his mouth around your cunt, wiggling his tongue through your sticky folds. “that’s right princess, knew you wanted daddy” he whispers to your cunt, leaning back and spitting on your pulsing hole. “‘s okay… daddy’s here. gonna clean you up baby. make it all better” he hums to your pussy before diving back in.
“j-james… james!” you moan loudly, reaching back and pushing his head closer to your needy cunt. he chuckles against you, slapping your ass.
“i knew you’d come around” he mumbles, standing and beginning to undo his pants.
“n-no… no james i’m not fucking you! i’m trying to tell you we need to go” you whine, shaking your head insistently.
“yeah princess, i hear you” he nods, running his cock through your slit a few times. “there’s my girl” he groans as he feels your wetness soaking his cock. “it’s okay, i’ll give it to you… no need to cry” he chuckles lowly as your pussy drips down onto his cock.
he groans lowly as he slowly pushes into your cunt, practically whining as he bottoms out. “oh you’re so tight” he breathes, holding your hips.
“j-james… jamie stop” you whine as he begins to fuck you. his pace is slow but intentional, his hips angled to hit your gspot head on each time he slams his cock back into you.
“oh baby, you’re begging me to stop but my princess is begging to cum” he murmurs, gently rubbing your clit as he fucks you slow and hard. “it’s okay pretty girl… if you want daddy to stop all you have to do is cum” he taunts, holding you close to him as he fucks you slowly.
you whine, shaking your head as it falls back against his shoulder. “your pussy is crying for me… squeezing around me. oh baby she wants to cum so bad” he mocks, beginning to rub your clit faster. he keeps his pace slow, but pounds your gspot mercilessly as you cry out his name along with profanities.
“daddy!” you whine as you gaze at him with wide, glossy eyes.
“oh there’s my pretty princess” he hums softly, smiling lovingly at you as he leans in and gives you a kiss. you whimper softly, meeting his thrusts as you kiss him back. “‘s my good girl. take my cock so well” he mumbles, kissing across your shoulders.
“daddy… i wanna cum” you whimper, your eyes rolling as you clench around him.
“i know baby… i know daddy’s right there” he mumbles. “why don’t you milk my cock baby?” he hums, kissing your cheek. “cum for me… squeeze daddy’s cum from that big cock” he groans lowly.
you let out a long, loud moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as you cream on james’ cock. he sucks in air through his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm as his hips begin to stutter until he paints your walls with his cum. “what do you say baby?” he mocks as he rides out his orgasm, fucking you full of his cum.
“thank you, daddy” you moan quietly, smiling lazily at him.
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hyuckmov · 1 year
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request #4 - himbo haechan
part 2! wc: 13.8k (yeah...) genre: fluff, smut (18+ minors dni), angst, himbo to fwb to lovers haechan warnings: mutual masturbation (kind of), sex over zoom call, softdom haechan and needy desperate haechan, mommy kink once, use of princess and angel and baby, fingering, unprotected fucking, overstim, haechan swears a lot, hair pulling, degradation/haechan likes pain and being humiliated, making love, nipple sucking, voice kink, thigh riding, haechan chokes and sucks on his own fingers, idk man a/n: i hope this is hot. i hope you feel this. i hope you like this. i don't know if this is my best work because i feel like the writing craft is so shoddy at times but idk... AS A PIONEERING HIMBO HAECHAN FIC, i hope this marks an important moment for the himbo haechan thinkers <3 thank you for waiting and thank you for supporting me. please let me know what you think and please be nice...
the first time you meet haechan, he doesn't exactly make a good impression. 
"what are you doing?" 
slowly, he lifts his head from where his lips were brushing your neck. "um…" blinking, his eyes refocus on yours. "trying to kiss you." 
"haechan!" you hiss. 
eyebrows raised, he beams back at you. "y/n!" he hisses back, imitating your tone. 
"i came here with someone else." you push his shoulder lightly, trying to make space between him and you but it's no use — his body slumps even harder, and you can see his eyes scanning your neck, zoning out of the conversation. 
"i know…" he mumbles, tracing a fingertip at your pulse point and making goosebumps erupt on your skin. 
"you do?" 
"yeah…" his other hand hovers in the air, as if he's deciding whether to grab your waist or press his palm to your lower back. 
"so you know i'm talking to someone right now, and it would be bad if i went around kissing my project partners...?" 
silence.
you dip your head slightly to try to look at him through his messy bangs, only to jolt slightly when you glimpse his expression. his eyes already half-lidded with lust, mouth hanging open and drool glistening on his plump lips. why did he look so…needy? fucked out? it had only been about a minute or so since you saw him walk towards you, the easy smile he kept on at full blast. you had exchanged small talk for about 10 seconds over your professor, and then he started nosing at the juncture between your jaw and your neck. 
"haechan?" you prompted, hesitantly. "everything okay?" 
"um...all's good," he mutters, before moving back towards you, lips puckered slightly and ready to mark your skin. 
spluttering, you push him away, again, confusion starting to settle in for you too. could he not take a hint? 
"were you even listening?" you ask, incredulously. "i said i'm talking to someone right now." 
"uh huh." he tilts his head to the side. "um, did you say something after that? sorry-" he breathes, wincing at the frustration on your face. "you just smell so good, i couldn't pay attention…" and as if he couldn't help himself, you noticed his body gravitate towards you, again. 
gripping onto his shoulder to keep him at a distance, you say slowly, "haechan, if i'm talking to someone, it wouldn't be good for me to mess around with other people." 
you see the words register in his head, see the furrow in his brow deepen as he ponders what you're saying. "it wouldn't?" 
"no, it wouldn't." 
"but you're not dating him yet." 
"no, i'm not." you see him open his mouth, so you quickly add, "but we're on our way, and i want to show him i'm serious about it." 
"but i'm serious about you." it was practically lazy – the way he pulled your hand off his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his. 
you couldn't help the thrill that ran down your spine as you were reminded of how strong he was, even though he didn't necessarily look it. 
"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you bite back. 
"both." 
you let out a scoff. unable to stop yourself, you blurt out, "are you used to women saying yes to you or something?"
"huh?"
"where do you get your confidence?" 
he raises his eyebrows at you in genuine concern as if you're the confused one in this conversation. "where do you think?" he makes a vague gesture to indicate his pretty face, and you're a little annoyed at how right he is. with heavy eye makeup, mismatched contact lenses giving his look a more piercing quality, moles tracing across his cheek just begging to be suckled with kisses and those heart-shaped lips…you think you would be hard pressed to find a woman in this room who would say no to his shameless flirting. 
"you shouldn't assume, haechan." something close to confidence begins to stir up in you, and you straighten, shaking your hand out of his. "it's not nice to kiss someone without asking them properly. you should always try to read the situation, and make sure you have consent." 
listening intently like a student in a classroom, he nods slowly to show he understands. "not nice, got it. anything else?" 
"don't try to steal people away from their dates," you add on, inspired.
"right."
"and don't say things like 'i'm serious about fucking you' if you don't really mean–" 
"-this is hot." he interrupts, words blurring together in a rush. his eyes unfocused and dreamy, he drags his gaze up and down your body indulgently. "you teaching me things." 
"hae-" 
"teaching me how to be a good boy…" he breathes. "yeah. fuck." 
your jaw drops, momentarily speechless. and yet, despite everything you were supposedly teaching him, his straightforwardness, the lack of filter, the raw desire that seemed to course through his entire body…you couldn't deny that it was making you feel a certain way too. 
fixing him with a look that conveyed as much seriousness and frustration you could muster, you shake your head.
 and he cowers. 
"sorry…" he mumbles, stepping away from you, almost ashamed. "i should've kept that to myself." 
you resist the urge to laugh. "yes, maybe you should have." 
turning to go, you pat him on the arm lightly, feeling a little bad for him. "see you around in class, okay?" 
he nods, eyes cast to the floor gloomily, and you're about to exit and head back to the main room when he calls your name. 
"y/n?"
"yes?" 
"i meant it." 
"what?" 
"i meant it when i said i was serious about fucking you." quietly, and with surprising gentleness, "i wouldn't lead you on like that. i wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it." 
and as you turn your back on the pretty boy in the hallway, you couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to burst into life in your chest at his words.
x
the second time you meet haechan, you're explaining your assignment to him in class, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.
the third time, he keeps up an endless stream of compliments for you as he walks you back to your apartment to get ready for your date (with heavy insinuations that he could treat you better, the entire time). 
after that, you sort of lose count. from a name told to you by your professor, to the boy who couldn't seem to stand without your help at the party, he slipped into your life with no intention of leaving. 
"i'm frustrated because i WANT to fuck you-" 
no intention of leaving, no intention of changing, at all. 
his words come out louder than you expect, ringing out in the silence of the library. he's practically raising his voice, the aggravation plain and clear as his words escalate in pitch. embarrassingly, people studying at the adjacent tables start to look over at you two, drawn by haechan's distinctive tone of voice, wondering what the campus resident himbo-heartthrob could be saying. 
and he's still talking.
interrupting him with a loud shushing sound, you grab his arm and haul him out of his seat. he stumbles a little over his steps as he follows you obediently out of the library, the rant momentarily cut off. 
the moment the two of you burst out of the library doors, he's seizing you by your arms, his expression eager and delighted. 
"my place? i don't think my roommate's home, and there's this toy i want-" 
"lee haechan." your jaw drops. you seem to be doing a lot of that when you're around him. 
breathless, his eyes shine with delight. "yeah?" 
you almost don't want to ask. "why do you think i dragged you out of the library?" 
"you're ready to fuck right now?" his expression falls when he finally reads yours, taking in your stony glare and the hard set of your jaw. "oh. i did something wrong, didn't it?"
"haechan…" you can't decide what to start with. 
"wait, i'm sorry-" he blurts out, letting go of you. "i shouldn't have grabbed you…"
"you shouldn't have raised your voice in a library!" 
"i'm SORRY-" gulping, he tries to make his voice smaller. "i just got really excited…" 
"when you are in small spaces, you use your 'inside voice', okay?" 
"my…" he gulps. "inside voice?" 
"your inside voice means a volume level only meant for you," you point. "and me, the person you are talking to." you point at yourself. 
"why?" 
"do you want the whole library to know you want to fuck me?" 
"i don't mind." a beat. "wait, fuck- wrong answer. no, i don't." he shakes his head firmly. "no." 
"exactly." you let out a breath. "so please, the next time you want to have this discussion, make sure you're not announcing it for the entire student population, okay?" 
he opens his mouth, but then quickly shuts it. a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he buries his face in his hands, sweater covering his palms up to his fingers. 
you sigh. "what is it, haechan?"
"i don't want to say," he whispers. 
"why?" 
"you'll get really angry at me." chastised, he bites his lip. and then, quieter, "i'm sorry i embarrassed you."
"welll…you didn't really embarrass me,” you mumble. "haechan…"
a muffled sound. 
"am i actually just being really mean to you? you can be honest-" you add, seeing something flicker in his eyes as he removes his hands from his face. "i won't get mad." 
"you're kind of mean…" he hesitates. "but i really like it. because i know it means you care about me." 
your heart warms. 
"and also because i find it really hot," he continues, unabashedly. "like…a part of me wants to push you until you freak out on me. but also the other part of me just wants to be good for you, you know?" 
you stare at him. his hair falling lazily on his forehead, a breathless and windswept look to him as if his own desire was physically stealing his breath away from his lungs. you'd noticed before how his eyes were always watery with some sort of emotion, his long lashes gently tangling and untangling, meeting his blushy skin. his pouty lips… forming your name. 
"fuck…i should have kept that to myself, right?" he tilts his head, blinking purposefully at you. "y/n?" 
you clear your throat. "it's fine." another pause, as you wonder how you can draw the conversation back to something less intimate, because the way he's looking at you — as if he wants to dive into your soul just by looking into your eyes, — was making you regret ever dragging him out of the library. "um…" sex. talk about sex. "so…you were going to use a toy for our first time together?" 
caught off guard, he gapes at you, trying to recall where he let slip his plans for the night. "i…" he blinks. "how did you know? did i tell you?"
he's adorable. pressing on, you try to bring back the tone of defiance in your voice. "couldn't make me cum all by yourself? are you really that unconfident?" 
from the way he's tonguing the inside of his cheek, you know you've successfully switched the tone. "princess…" his voice is slow and patronising. "don't talk about things you don't understand." you don't think you've ever heard him speak like that, cockiness dripping from every syllable. is this the haechan that everyone else knew? 
"i don't-" 
"i saw the way you were looking at me just now…" eyes fluttering, he slouches closer to you and you back away on instinct. the movement makes him smile. "you think i'm pretty, just like everyone else does, hm?" 
it takes everything in you to roll your eyes, stepping further away from him as if it would break the spell. "you're so full of yourself." 
"and you like it." at the look on your face, he backpedals instantly, the confidence draining from him in an instant as he adjusts his bag on his shoulders. "right…sorry. you're still seeing someone." he doesn't even try to hide the bitterness in his tone.  
a moment passes.
"let's just… go get dinner," you suggest, lightly. he nods distractedly, hooking a hand around your bag strap and lazily tugging it onto his shoulder, something he likes to do for you. 
the walk to the restaurant is only a few minutes, and it's only when you reach that he speaks up again. 
"y/n?" 
"yeah?" 
"he….he makes you happy, right?" 
"huh?"
"the guy you're seeing." he swallows, fingers curling tighter around your bag unconsciously. "you're happy with him, right?" 
biting your lip, you nod slowly. "i guess."
if he can sense your hesitance, he doesn't press — body relaxing considerably as he nods to himself too. "then that's all that matters." 
and he reaches over to hold the door open for you, face bright and happy again as he patiently waits for you to enter first. 
x
haechan, 11.00pm: i hope you got a kiss today  you, 11.00pm: what haechan, 11.01pm: idk you just looked really pretty today and i really wanted to kiss you you, 11.01pm: so that's why you were looking at me like that  haechan, 11.01pm: yeah but i can't kiss you so  haechan, 11.01pm: i hope you got a kiss somehow…
haechan, 11.12pm: so did you?  you, 11.12pm: did i what? haechan, 11.12pm: did you get a kiss  haechan, 11.12pm: WAIT  haechan, 11.12pm: don't tell me  haechan, 11.12pm: i'll get sad you, 11.12pm: okay haechan, 11.12pm: okay what?  you, 11.13pm: okay, i won't tell you haechan, 11.13pm: fuck  haechan, 11.13pm: i want you so bad… you, 11.13pm: HAECHAN  haechan, 11.13pm: TYPO sorry sorry  you, 11.13pm: you can't typo a whole phrase haechan, 11.13pm: yes you can… i just did…
x
for someone who doesn't always know what he's talking about, haechan loves to talk. a lot. 
"you're going to sleep? already?" even in the low quality image on your phone screen, you can see the crestfallen look on his face. 
"we both have an early class tomorrow." 
"we can take turns sleeping in that class…like we did last week…" 
accusatorily, you jab a finger at your phone camera, causing his nose to scrunch in alarm as if you were really there, backing away from his screen. "you slept for a whole two hours that time!" 
"i-" sulking, he rolls over on his side, face half smushed against the bed. "i'll do better this time." 
"we can always talk tomorrow," you soothe, getting comfortable in your own bed and holding up your phone a little higher so the angle didn't look so bad on videocall.
although it was ridiculous, you couldn't help but feel insecure at how pretty he looked all the time, even when it was 2 in the morning and his voice was low and scratchy, or when he just woke up and his hair stuck out in all sorts of ways…his eyes never stopped sparkling in the terribly endearing way, his skin looking soft under the warm lights of his room. 
"but i want to talk to you now…" he says, softly. 
"okay…what about?" 
"i don't know…" still in the same soft voice that drives you crazy, he blinks tiredly at his screen. "anything…i guess…" 
"um…what did you have for dinner?" 
you can't help but let out a laugh when he whines loudly in annoyance "i mean deep stuff. stuff you wouldn't tell anyone else." 
"you think of something then!"
"wait-" a look passes over his face, you can literally see the idea hitting him, the flickering of a lightbulb over his head: he sits up, animated, and starts pulling his laptop onto his lap. "give me a second." he's typing furiously on his keyboard, nose scrunched in concentration. 
"you don't even type this seriously in class," you accuse, half-heartedly. when he doesn't respond, you raise your voice a little. "haechan? what are you doing?" 
"nothing." he turns his attention back to the phone screen, and beams at you with a brightness that catches you off guard. "just had an assignment that i forgot to submit." 
"um…okay…"
"but i have my ideas for the questions now-" he continues, his words coming out rushed from the blatant excitement in his tone. "so let's start." 
"why are you so…eager?" suspicious, you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "are the questions sex-related? you perv…" 
"no," he shakes his head vehemently, "i swear, they're not. i just…" and suddenly he's shy, biting at his puffy lips, and even in the dim glow of the room you can see the flush in his cheeks. "i just want to get to know you more…" 
"okay…" 
"okay, let's start." he clears his throat.
 "given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?" 
"what the fuck?" you gape at him. out of all the things he could have asked you, there was no way you would have thought of this. "haechan, are you trying to get me to do some assignment for you?" 
"i'm genuinely curious-" he tries to defend himself, a hint of a whine making its way into his voice. "i mean, i can go first if you need more time to think…" 
"i don't think i've ever heard you use the word 'whom'." 
"now that's just mean…" pouting, his eyes go round and sad, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose, but when he nibbles on your lips you feel your breath catch in your throat. 
fuck. stumbling over your words, you rush, "uh…i can answer i guess." 
his eyes crinkle into a smile. "okay, who?" 
"um…probably that researcher guy who we're doing our assignment on. then i can just ask him all the questions and cite him as the source and we would be done."
"that's a good answer," he says, encouragingly. 
"okay…so who would you want as a dinner guest?" 
"you," he says, immediately. 
"haechan, this isn't going to be fun if your questions are all set up as lines…" 
"i'm serious…" and he is – there's no hint of any rehearsed expression on his face. "i only ever want to see you." and then, smiling, he shifts around happily on his seat on the bed. "okay! next question…" 
x
"what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 
"how many questions do you have?" 
"i don't know… i'm making these up as i go along," he shrugs. "so, what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 
you think about it, for a second. "i think my perfect day would be really simple, and everything would just go right. i would wake up early, there wouldn't be a queue at the cafe for breakfast, i get to class with my coffee-" 
"which class?" 
"uh… our class?" 
"okay, good," a small smile playing on his lips. "and then?" 
"and then…i can answer all your questions in class, and afterwards we go to the library and miraculously we can get something done…" you think back to a few evenings you've had where you've genuinely, really, been happy. "we get hotpot for dinner and we get a huge discount, and i go back home and fall asleep really easily." 
haechan is smiling so hard you want to ask him if his cheeks hurt. 
"what's so funny?" 
"it's funny…" he looks at you coyly. "that's my perfect day too." 
x
"number 10…" 
"motherfucker-" you sit up, startling haechan, who drops his phone. 
"wha-"
"you have a list of questions?" you wait for him to pick up his phone again before you point at the screen, savagely. you don't even have to look to know he's doing his cower again. "what happened to coming up with it as you go along? are these even your questions?" 
"y/n…" he shuffles around uncomfortably, picking at his bedspread. 
"how many questions are there in total?"
"36." his eyes widening, he backpedals. "actually, i don't know…um…it depends…" 
"i'm going to bed." 
"no we have to finish all 36 questions!" 
"we have to? why do we have to?" 
"please?" he looks up at you, and you should be used to it by now, used to the shifts in tone and the intensity of his emotions when his eyes meet yours, but still it makes your heart hammer a little harder every time. "please? i really just want to get to know you…" 
a pause. 
sighing, you lie back on your pillows again. "what's number 10?" 
x
"what roles do love and affection play in your life?" haechan lets out a yawn, rubbing his face against his comforter. 
the question wakes you up a little. you've kind of guessed that he was using a list of questions that would get increasingly intimate as they went on, but this one felt more direct than the others. and although so far you've been honest about everything, careless sometimes with your answer but never dishonest, you don't know how truthfully you should answer this time.
haechan blinks lazily at the screen. "um…" he rubs at his eyes, "i can go first. i think…love and affection are easy." 
the words feel like a punch to your gut. "really?" 
"yeah," he continues. "i mean, i'm affectionate with practically everyone i meet…and i'm not scared if i end up falling in love. i don't always know it when i'm in the moment…but i think i like how it feels," he adds, almost as an afterthought. 
"you like how what feels?" 
"being in love," he says, softly, looking at you with gentleness in his eyes. 
"but what if it doesn't end well?" you ask more for yourself than for him, and he answers as if it's the easiest thing in the world. 
"then it ends. but at least you were in love." tilting his head, he asks, "is it…not easy for you?" 
you can't find the words, so you shake your head. 
his brow furrows. "aren't you seeing someone right now?"
"yeah but i don't love him." he opens his mouth, so you add on quickly, "and he doesn't love me." 
"then you shouldn't be with him," he said, firmly.  things were always so simple when he outlined them. "you don't love each other, so you shouldn't waste your time together." 
"but he's not a bad person…" you have no idea why you're defending someone you don't even really care about. "he's generally nice to me…" 
"none of that matters if there's no love," he runs a hand through his hair, and that's when you realise that he's genuinely angry. "i didn't know you didn't love him. if i did, i would have talked to you about it ages ago…" 
"it's not so easy, haechan. it's not so easy to find someone who loves you back. sometimes, you just have to be grateful that someone is willing to spend time with you, grateful that they're not horrible-" 
he cuts you off with a frustrated sound. "i don't understand." rubbing his face with his hands, you hear him exhale shakily, the sound crackling in your earphones. 
"it's okay," you try to calm him, making your tone as light as possible. "these are just questions, right? we don't have to agree…" 
he settles down, but you can tell he's still lost in thought, his jaw clenched. "i guess." 
"which question are we on?" 
he checks his laptop screen. "21." 
"do you…want to keep going?" 
he nods, sighing one more time before focusing on you again. this time, you can tell he's managed to calm down, the gentleness returned to his demeanour. "i'm sorry. i'm really trying to understand what you mean, but maybe we're just different." 
"yeah…" affection and love did feel easy, even being friends with haechan. you think it's maybe become a part of your life that you couldn't live without — the little ways he took care of you, how he never hesitated to compliment you or defend you. "i want to be more like you, though." 
"huh?" 
"the thing about love and affection…" you mumble. "i want it to be as easy as it is for you." his eyes light up, and you hate how it immediately seems to lift a weight from your chest. 
x
it's strange that haechan's the one you turn to when things eventually fall apart. but at the same time, it makes perfect sense, because he's never once made you feel small for what you thought, or invalidated anything you've felt. 
you didn't even have to tell him. you had stumbled into class, numb from all your hurt, and the moment haechan raised his head to look at you, he just knew. 
"what's wrong?" he mouths, a look of pure fear in his eyes as he scans your surroundings, trying to figure out what could've done this to you. 
"i'll tell you later," you're barely able to whisper back as you slide into your seat next to him, eyes already filling with tears at how easy it was for haechan to read you. your heart warming from the urgency in his tone.
without hesitation, he leans over far in his seat to squeeze you into a hug. his lips ghosting over the crown of your hair, you can hear the worry in his voice even as he tries to reassure you. 
for the next 2 hours, he casts worried glances over at you, taking in the way you're barely listening, fingers ghosting over your keyboard and typing nothing. the lecture barely ends before he's reaching over to pack up for you, clumsy hands shuffling your papers into your folder the way he knows you like them, shouldering your backpack as he tugs you gently towards the door and out into the sun. 
he leads you to a quiet place on campus, and if you were a little less focused on yourself, you'd wonder if this was where he usually took his dates to kiss them. it's secluded and private, soft grass underneath your shoes as he guides you to a bench under a tree, sliding into a seat next to you and taking your hand in his immediately. 
on one of your study sessions together, the two of you had taken a love language quiz, and it was no surprise when his top love language showed up as physical touch, while yours showed up as words of affirmation. 
tears are slipping down your cheeks, and he pulls you into his arms — a gesture more for him than you but you melt into his touch all the same. his palms clumsily pat between your shoulder blades, his touch heavy as he strokes down your spine, rubbing at your shoulders as you try to stop from shaking. 
"do you want to talk about it?" he murmurs, eyes wide and concerned.
briefly, you consider not telling him, the thought of having to materialise everything with your words too painful to bear. but his voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that you feel he at least deserved to know why you were crying in his arms like this. 
"h-he took me to the party to make her jealous." 
his movements still. 
"i knew we didn't love each other…but i thought…i thought at least…he must've liked something in me, right?" 
he's at a loss for words as you cry harder into his shirt. 
"you don't have to say anything…" you reassure him. "i know it's stupid. i didn't even like him anyway, it just hurts my pride to think he never saw anything in me." 
"it's not stupid," he says, firmly. "you rejected me at that party for him, right? you've been rejecting me for weeks because of him." 
you nod into his chest. 
"you're not stupid." he declares. "he's the one who's wrong." and there it is again — the simplicity, the way everything was black and white with him. he was completely and wholly on your side, his hand diligently going back to stroke your hair, dipping his fingers to rub circles into the nape of your neck. 
"i'm surprised you're not being inappropriate right now." 
he doesn't respond at first, but his movements falter again. 
"i just really don't like seeing you hurt," he says, quietly. 
"oh." 
"wait, don't get me wrong, i think you look very pretty when you cry," he adds, sincerely. it makes you laugh, a little bit of the haechan you first met coming back. but he mistakes it for disbelief, tripping over his words to make you understand, raising his voice. "you really are, and you sound so pretty too-" 
wrapping your arms around his middle, you lean into his touch, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. "thanks, haechan." 
"it's just that…i don't like thinking that someone made you feel like this. it makes me feel…" his palm moves down to hold the side of your face delicately, fingers moving over your cheeks as he chooses his words. "it makes me feel really helpless. it reminds me i can't stop people from hurting you." 
his voice is small, and you can barely catch his words, but you feel like you've been slammed in the chest. you hesitate, wondering if you should press him further.
"why?" 
"what do you mean?" 
"why does it make you feel helpless?" 
he huffs, frustrated. "because it does." 
he runs a hand through his hair as he rambles on. "i don't know why i don't like seeing you hurt. or why i don't like the idea of your shoulders being sore like mine are so i carry your things around for you everywhere. i don't know why i want to mark your neck but i don't ever want to see you bruised, or how i want to fuck you so badly, but also sometimes i get this feeling like… like i don't want to fuck you, i just –" he cuts himself off with a groan, tugging at his long hair desperately.
you don't reply. you can't trust your voice. 
so you ease yourself out of his hold, which had gotten increasingly tight. with a hand, you guide his hands down from his hair and into yours, and bring your other palm up to touch his face. he goes limp at your touch, leaning into you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.
"why am i telling you this?" he whispers, eyes never leaving yours. 
"haechan-"
"you must think i'm pathetic." you feel his tears on your hand, hot and wet, before his breathing starts to pick up and soft whimpers rise from his throat. 
"don't say that." 
"i mean you," he gasps, words coming out in stuttered sounds. "y-you were the one who needed me to c-comfort you, and n-now i'm the one crying, and i…" he lets out a low sound, emotions overwhelming him all at once. "i really want to hurt the guy who made you feel like that." 
"haechan…" 
"where does he live? it'll only take 5 minutes i swear…" he swallows, hard. "i could take him in a fight, i saw him at the party…" 
"you're not going to get reported to campus police for him. he's not worth it." but you can tell your words are getting lost on him, his hands shaking as he fumbles them out of your grip, trying to intertwine your fingers. 
"i just need to do s-something right now," he breathes, hard. "anything. it hurts so bad, y/n. why does it hurt so much for me?" 
something about this — about him, calms you. the pain from before fading into a dull ache, and a new feeling swelling in your chest as you look at the boy in front of you. the feeling of being needed by someone grounding you, affection roaring in your ears as he leans into your touch, watching you like he was trying to decipher the thoughts buzzing like static in your mind. 
"take me home, haechan." 
he blinks up at you. 
"i want to go home," you whisper. 
and, drawing you into his arms, he does exactly that. 
he picks up your favourite ice cream on the drive home, and stays glued to your back on the elevator ride up. coddling you and cooing praises in your ear, tucking you into bed and drawing up a chair next to you as if you were ill. you ignore the fact that this was the first time you were indulging in his touch and it felt so right, the fact that he cried just because you did, for reasons he claimed not to know and you didn't want to admit. 
but as you watched him move around in your kitchen, putting away dishes from the dinner he made you — his broad frame stretching out his shirt, shoulder blades sharp under the warm light, you were met with the sinking feeling that the boy who was just out to fuck you might be out for something far worse.  
x
"i'm not setting you up with him," haechan's words come out in a blur. "okay? we're just walking to the party together." 
"yes, i'm aware of that. how many more times are you going to repeat this to me?" 
"haechan, why are you still hiding me behind your back?" 
"this is NOT a set-up!" he hisses, veins in his arms popping out as he keeps a firm grip on his friend, you presume, keeping him out of your sight. "i do NOT want you to like him, okay?" 
"okay haechan, i get it."
he looks at you, suspicious, but finally releases his hold, arms crossing over his chest instead as he scowls. "fine. y/n, this is my friend renjun." 
looking a little dishevelled, and very annoyed, renjun steps out from behind haechan. "hey." his face breaks into a sweet smile when he sees you, eyes brightening with recognition. "wait…were you in that statistics course from last semester?" 
"yeah i was! were you the one who did the project on social psychology? i thought it was so smart…"
"i had a lot of help with it," he beams back. "actually, i have more resources on the topic if you'd like them." 
"SHE DOESN'T WANT TO FUCK YOU." 
haechan's voice abruptly booms out in the middle of the street, making you and renjun jump. the handful of people passing by turn their heads to look at your trio, making shame burn low in your stomach as you wince apologetically. haechan's face is flushed, hands curled into fists by his side, a glare fixed upon renjun as if he were his worst enemy.
"haechan!" you whisper, annoyed. "did we not practice using our inside voice?" 
"fuck the inner voice!" he hisses back at you with equal venom, tugging you closer to him and away from renjun. his face screwed up, he jabs a finger at him. "she's not gonna fuck you dude. lay off her." 
renjun is looking back and forth between you and haechan, a knowing look settling onto his face as he meets haechan's frown with an easy smile. 
"don't worry about it, man. she's all yours." 
"yeah, that's right, she's mine," haechan repeats, savagely, before the words coming out of his mouth seem to take him by surprise. confused, he looks over at you, trying to figure out what exactly he just said. "wait…fuck i mean…um…"
"you know what? i'm going to go ahead first," renjun interrupts, giving you a small wave. "see you at  jaemin's."
"YEAH, GO AWAY RENJUN." 
"sorry," you mumble, now trying to free yourself from haechan's tight grip on your arm which he doesn't even seem to be aware of. 
"word of advice," renjun mutters to you, pointedly ignoring the way haechan was hissing at him. "pull on his hair. it shuts him up real fast." 
it's when you finally manage to pry his fingers off of you when haechan is brought back down to earth, throwing a venomous look at renjun's retreating back as he lets go of you reluctantly. 
you round on him. "well?" 
"w-well what?" he mumbles, looking away, acting out a textbook portrayal of guilty.  
you narrow your eyes at him, and some part of you is happy to see him gulp in fear like he usually does. "what do you have to say for yourself?" 
"i'm not the problem here," he mutters. "it's renjun. he's such a sleaze."
"renjun? a sleaze?" you laugh before you can stop yourself. "you're more of a sleaze than he is on a regular day." 
"ME?" he bursts out, head snapping to you. at least this time, the people in your vicinity seem to be used to the outbursts, and they don't bother to turn to look. "I'M NOT…that's not…" and then he's whipping out his phone, biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows drawn close together as he scrolls through whatever's he's looking at.
you sigh. "haechan, what are you doing?" 
"immoral…corrupt…sordid…" he raises his voice again. "fuck google definitions. why is it that none of these words mean what i think sleaze means?" 
"could you not change the subject?" you start, but he talks over you. 
"yeah," he emphasises, viciously. "you're right. see, i just wanted to expand your social circle, it's not my fault renjun was making eyes at you," 
"he wasn't-" 
"he was about to invite you over,"
"did you hallucinate-"
"that's so…so insensitive, like couldn't he just take a hint? and you were wearing your fuck-me skirt today-"
"i do NOT have a fuck-me skirt-"
"no it's a fuck haechan skirt that's what it is, because whenever i see you in it i-"
"will you shut up?" annoyed, you reach around to the back of his neck, and tug harshly on his long hair, really hoping to make it hurt. 
you expect him to stop talking, maybe cry out in pain. 
you're not expecting his knees go weak as he lets out an achy, high-pitched moan that shudders through his entire body.
x
"hey, haechan's quiet today!" jaemin points out, cheerfully. "y/n, could you pass me the pepper?" 
putting on a smile, you pass the shaker over to him. "we had an argument on the way here, that's probably why." 
"you two should fight more," jaemin says, before taking a sip of his soup. "dinner's almost over and he's barely made a sound."
renjun just smiles to himself.
"what. the fuck." 
haechan's still gasping for breath, and when you raise your hand absentmindedly, his arms shoot up quickly to protect his head. "don't-!" 
"i'm not going to do it again." 
"okay good." his arms fall to his side, before he's looking at you with a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. "wait…like…never?" 
you narrow your eyes. 
"y/n, can you come with me please?" haechan is looking at you urgently, leg bouncing as he tugs on your sleeve. "i want to talk to you in private." 
sighing, you excuse yourself from the table, letting haechan tug you away from the living room and into what looks like an empty guest room.
clicking the door shut, he sits down on the bed, patting the space next to him impatiently to get you to join him. 
"what's wrong?" 
"i want to ask you something." there's a sincerity in the way he reaches takes your hand, his voice steady, and calm, and sure. 
"okay…" 
"i've been good this past week, right?" he watches your face closely, looking for an answer. "like…i wanted to show you i care, and i wanted to take care of you and help you forget…your breakup…" 
"you've been really good to me, haechan," you affirm quietly. because he has. 
"and i've kept my thoughts to myself," he adds. "because…you told me to do that…" 
"yeah."
"do you…" he struggles with the words. "do you want me to keep…keeping my thoughts to myself? like, does it make you really uncomfortable…" he looks like he's in physical pain, brows furrowed in concentration.
"no, it doesn't…" you admit, feeling a little exposed. 
"what about…so if…" he twists at his fingers. "so if i…made a move…like the first time we met at the party…would you…?" 
"i think i would." looking away, feeling that the room was suddenly burning hot, you mumble out, "so you don't have to worry about holding back or-"
"-good, because i've been hard ever since you pulled on my hair." 
he's getting that look again, lips parted and swollen. he slides a hand around your waist, the weight of his body leaning on yours feeling all too familiar. only this time, there was no one and nothing you could put between yourself and the raw need that was in every fibre of his being. always brutally honest about how much he wanted you, looking at you with eyes that could swallow you whole. and now that there was no one else, you were free falling right into him.
your voice is scratchy with nerves. "do you want me to do it again?" 
"to be very honest, it kind of kills the mood when you ask," he mumbles, now pressing the pads of his fingers under your shirt and into your soft skin. 
laughing, you slide your hands up his neck and into his hair again, relishing in the way his body tenses and his breaths start to come shallow and fast. curling your fingers around the strands, you pull on them softly, increasing in pressure as he throws his head back. 
"fuck," he pants, hands moving quickly now, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "wanted this since the day i saw you." 
well at least he's honest. hesitating slightly, you grasp his wrists gently to stop his movements. "haechan…you know this is me giving you permission right?" 
"huh?" his eyes cloudy, he struggles slightly against you, hands still trying to reach for your skin. "i mean…yeah…"
"so after this, we'll figure something out?" you look at him hopefully, trying to meet his eyes which were currently darting around, scanning your body haphazardly. until you let out a gasp, because somehow he's overpowered you — pushing you onto the bed roughly, his hands now gripping your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand, the other resting heavy on your hip. 
"you talk too much," he says, lowly. swiftly pressing his lips to the side of your neck, he bites down on your shoulder next, and you hiss at the sting. in retaliation, you manage to release one of your hands from his grip, giving his hair a sharp tug — making him rut his hips into yours. 
"me? what about you?" you tease, breathless as he grinds into you, "with all your talk…all your thoughts, i kind of expected more…but you're whining and we've barely touched."
at that, he stills. 
he still has you pinned down by his weight on your torso, and above you, you can see the way his eyes darken, wheels in his head turning. 
"you're right," he says, quietly. releasing your hands, he crawls off of you to kneel on the bed by your feet, rough hands pulling at his belt. 
"r-right…about what?" now he wasn't lying on you, you felt a coldness travel through your body, making you crave his touch. sitting up to look at him, you swallow as he kicks off his pants. 
he wasn't lying about being hard. his cock looked thick and heavy in his palm as he squeezed his shaft, letting out a sigh. 
"haechan, what are you doing…?"
spitting in his hand, he starts tugging at his cock, slow and teasing strokes as he shifts his hips around in pleasure, settling his weight back on his heels as he hums. 
you place your hands on his thighs, shifting towards him, but with a speed and agility you rarely saw he grabbed both your wrists in his free hand, holding on to them tightly so you couldn't shake free. "you don't get to touch," he gasps, another moan ripping from his throat as his fingers press into his slit. 
"haechan," alarmed, you try to crawl over to him but his grip on your wrists holds you at a distance, pushing you back. the sounds he's making go straight to your core, high-pitched moans, drawn out and achy, gulping gasps of air between each one as if he was struggling to breathe. his hand speeding up, moving like a blur, swivelling his wrist and thumbing at a spot just below the blunt pink tip. precum dribbling out all over his hand as he starts to thrust his hips into the circle of his fist. 
"please," you rub your thighs together, pain and pressure building up in your core. his eyes, half-lidded and sultry, slide over to you almost lazily. 
"wait your turn, princess," he groans, mocking you with a whiny "ah…ah-" at the end. 
you're so frustrated you could cry. 
his whines and whimpers escalate in pitch, broken gasps and pants filling the air, and you can't wait for him to cum so it'll be your turn…
except suddenly he's letting go of his cock, a groan rumbling through his chest as it slaps up against his lower belly. 
a beat.
"did you like the show?" 
"you didn't cum," you mumble, dumbly. 
"i didn't think you deserved to see that yet." he releases your wrists. "see, that was your punishment." 
"for?" 
"for rejecting me for over a month even though i knew you wanted it." effortlessly pulling you into his lap, he smiles as he guides a hand under your skirt, rubbing your inner thigh with his sticky fingers. "sometimes when you look at me…i just know you're dripping wet in your panties."
"i'm not-"
"should we check?" he pulls at the seat of your panties, swiping his fingers on your folds. your thighs clamp shut on his hands, sensitive, and he laughs. "thought so." 
he traces light touches on your clit, alternating between rubbing circles and stroking gently. he brushes his fingers over your entrance and you crumble, grinding into his hand as you try to manoeuvre your hips closer to where his cock lies against his tummy. 
"so cute," he murmurs, pushing a careful finger into you, smiling to himself when you let out a soft moan. stroking against your walls, he adds another, starting to stretch you out as you rock your hips into his. his nose nuzzles at your neck, and you discover that all those times he's spent analysing the juncture between your jaw and your shoulder have paid off, because he finds your sweet spot in record time, his puffy lips mumbling against your skin and making you shake all over. 
"you're going to have to be a little quieter, baby," he says, gently. "don't want them hearing you outside." he adds another finger, humming delightedly at how you suck them in. 
"you-" you gasp, "but you were so, fuck, loud just now…"
"i don't care if they hear me." he starts fucking his fingers into you, thrusting them in and out of your core with loud wet sounds, his thumb applying pressure to your clit that makes your thighs tremble. "i know i sound good. you should record me next time, baby." 
your brain has gone foggy. this is the haechan that still pushed at the pull door to your lecture hall, the one you've been going to for almost half a year. this is the haechan who hid behind his hands when you would get mad at him, then would beg for you to keep going, i'm memorising this for later. 
this was the haechan…who was currently moaning softly in your ear, a sound so saturated with lust that it takes your breath away, and makes you release all over his hand. 
x
as it turns out, haechan isn't really into edging unless he wants to make a point. 
he's far more interested in overstimulation, as he makes you cum 3 times on the guest room bed. and he cums twice himself from fucking you. 
with intense concentration, he cleans up for you and tucks you into bed, worried eyes making sure you're okay. when he watches the way you walk, unsteadily, to turn off the light, he slides to his knees and freckles kisses all over your thighs and hips, murmuring apologies into your skin, torn between gloating and grovelling. 
"jaemin's okay with us staying," he whispers into the dark. and then, with unfiltered dreamy happiness… "i'm so happy i'm going to wake up next to you tomorrow."
your heart melts and dissolves as you reach for him, nuzzling into his chest. it's because you're so close that you hear the rumble of his sigh through his chest. "haechan?"
"hm?" 
"i don't want to confuse you…" 
pause. and then, quietly, "you always say that before you confuse me."
you sit up, his arms falling to your waist. 
"haechan…" 
"you look like an angel," he looks at you through his lashes, doll-like features pretty in the moonlight. when he realises he's caught you off guard, he continues, his drowsy, honeyed voice low and soothing, hypnotic as he appeals to you. "go to sleep, angel. i'll fuck you awake in the morning, i promise…" 
"don't try to seduce me, haechan. i want to talk about this." 
"worth a shot," he mumbles. "look, i don't know if you think i'm joking when i tell you i want you," his eyes flicker to the sheets as he tries to outline his thoughts. "but i already promised since day 1 that i wasn't leading you on." he sighs when you still look unconvinced.
"tell me what you're thinking, angel." he reaches for your hand, and presses a small kiss on your palm, guiding your fingers to cup his face. "give me a hint."
"question 21," you remind him. 
love and affection. understanding blooms on his face.
"what about it?" 
"i'm scared," you confess. 
"what are you scared of, angel?" he tilts his face to the side but his eyes never leave yours. "you want me, and i…and i…" he sits up a little so he can pull you down to him. you think you kissed him just now, but this one feels like the first time — his mouth moving gently on yours, suckling on your lip, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth, and the light sigh he lets out like he just tasted something sweet. he kisses you like he's just realised he has all the time in the world to, with no urgency, only the sweet indulgence of a boy who finally has what he wants right in his arms. 
"don't be scared," he whispers into your mouth when you break apart. "i'm serious about you."
"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you ask, timidly. 
haechan looks up at you, the angel in his bed, and takes in the tension in your shoulders, the way you're holding your breath. 
if haechan was bad at homework, bad at assignments and impressing his professors, bad at reading the room and keeping his voice under control, there were things he was good at from experience. 
like how to tilt his face to showcase the pretty moles on his skin, how to pitch his voice like it was straight out of a filthy dream, and how to read people's body language to know what they wanted. how to read you.
"serious about whatever you're ready for," he says, gently. "affection, or love."
a moment passes. then another. then another. 
"haechan?" 
"yes?" 
"were you serious about fucking me awake tomorrow morning?"
x
"haechan, this is really, really bad." 
"i know." he exhales shakily, the sound amplified through your laptop speakers. "fuck, shit, i know." 
leaning forward to look at your laptop screen, you swipe back to the open tab you have of the document for your project. "how did you delete everything? and why can't it be restored?" 
"i don't-" a muffled choking sound. "i don't know." 
"i don't even want to tell you to stop crying," you say bitterly. "cry harder. it won't fix this." 
a strangled sound, barely audible over the music playing on his end. 
you swipe back to your zoom call with haechan. ever since you started giving in to haechan's relentless begging, it's been a lot harder for both of you to focus on your assignment. 
specifically, the number of times he's fingered you in the library or fucked you on his lap in his desk chair were now too many to count. 
so you've resorted to meeting up over video-call, using your laptops to provide a greater sense of occasion and to make it clear that these were meetings to do work. so far, they've been working out fine, but today he joined the call with his camera turned off, and only a guilty, shaking, voice told you to check the google drive, and please don't be mad. 
"so?" you don't bother to hide your anger, or to coddle him like you usually would. "are you going to fix this?" 
"dunno…" he gasps, whimpering when you roll your eyes. "dunno…fuck…dunno how…"
you tilt your webcam so you can really look into it, hoping that it's making him feel worse. judging by the wail he lets out, it does. 
"turn on your camera so i can see you," you snap. "and turn off the music. i want to hear you cry."
a muffled, guttural, sound. 
"really?" he sniffles, a loud sob crackling like static out of your speakers. "you w-want to…t-to see me…c-cry?" 
"don't play mind games with me, lee haechan," you warn. "i'm really fucking mad at you." 
"y-yeah?" he gulps, and you can hear it. 
"i'm so mad i could hit you right now." and you hear a sound of pain, a strangled cry ripping from his throat. 
"i wannit," he groans. "want you to hit me."
"forgot you were a masochist," you grumble, sarcastically. "how are you still in the mood to make jokes like that when we're going to fail?" 
he's panting, and a part of you starts to worry. is he hyperventilating? "i dunno, i'm sorry-" he gasps, voice raising in pitch. 
"haechan?" the anger hasn't completely faded from your voice. you're met with a hiccup, cut off by a wracking sob. switching tact, you make your voice go gentle, babying him the way you usually do to get him to do anything right. "turn off the music and turn on the camera for me."
he's still breathing heavily as you hear the sounds of fumbling, his phone falling to the floor as it disconnects from his speaker. silence fills the call, a tension so thick in the air as he pants into his microphone, and you hear his hands skid across the keyboard. 
you freeze when he turns on the camera. 
the background is different from your usual work calls. you see the headboard of his bed, an array of pillows propped up behind him as he slouches against them. but unlike your usual late-night calls, the laptop isn't balanced on his knees so that you can only see his face. 
its on the bed between his legs, giving you a full picture of his tear streaked face, the beautiful skin of his upper body, the jumping muscles in his thighs, and his thick weeping cock held in his veiny fist. 
he moans when he sees himself on camera, resuming his movements and watching himself carefully through tear-soaked eyelashes. 
"what the fuck?" you whisper, and he lets out a whiny sob, hand moving faster over his length. 
"what the hell is wrong with you?" your voice grows stronger as you watch his other hand close around his neck, choking back his sounds. "what the fuck?" his hand is dragging up his neck, he's slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, drool dripping down his wrist. "lee haechan!" you press your thighs together, trying not to let the scene get to you, but it was no use.
"love it when you-" he gasps, hips bucking into his hand. "get mad at me. i told you…ah, ah…you're so fucking hot when you're mad." he wipes the drool off his chin messily, and reaches down to stroke himself with both hands. 
"you're unbelievable," you snap, feeling your own hands drift to your thighs.
"and i…and i kept this thought to myself…" he moans, hand ghosting over his nipple as he whimpers. "but i always thought you looked like a camgirl when we call like this."
"yeah?" fuck it. you give in, crossing over to your bed. feigning indifference, you place the laptop on your sheets in front of you as you settle down and shrug off your sweatpants, grateful you had chosen to wear the white lace panties he liked. 
"mmhm," he hasn't noticed you yet, his head thrown back and eyes closed. "i came when you tilted the camera down…wanted see your tits so bad…" 
"if i was a camgirl, would you watch?" you slip your hand into your panties and let out a sigh, watching his cock twitch in his palm. missing the weight of it in your hand, on your thigh, and in you. 
"fuck yeah." 
"then why aren't you watching, baby?"
he moves so fast it's almost comical — eyes shooting open, he straightens to look at his laptop screen. the moment he sees you with your hand between your legs, panties so wet they were transparent, he cums, hard, thick globs of white cum oozing out of his tip as his legs tremble and a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks, his mouth falling open as he lets out a series of moans reminiscent of the filthiest hentai porn. 
"was that your second time, hm?" you moan, the sight of him making you rub against your clit even faster, your hips rocking into your hand. 
"third," he squeezes his cock again, pain darting across his face as he releases it, letting it soften against his thigh. "y/n… take them off please…"
"take what off?" you push a finger into you, sliding your other hand up your top to graze your nipples under your camisole. he whimpers at the sight. 
"everything…" his eyes cloudy and desperate, his cheeks flushed so read you'd be worried he was running a fever. "wanna see you…" 
you're focused completely on your own pleasure, your heart soaring to see him so completely fucked out before you. 
"haechan…" you try to keep your voice under control, try to hide that you were close. you just wanted to see how far he'd go. "if you're my baby boy, then what should you call me?" you pinch your nipples, letting out a gasp. the sheets feel silky against your skin as your legs kick in pleasure, your hand still working in between your legs.
haechan's breathing picks up. when you look down at your screen, he's touching himself again, squeezing the base of his cock. his mouth falls open as you see his lashes flutter, rolling back into his head as he mouths the words. 
whimpering, his lip wobbles as he looks at you on the screen. 
"mommy," he moans, again and again, until you both climax, and you're no longer sure if he's saying it for you or himself.
x
haechan takes your words to heart. like, he really takes your words to heart. 
when you tell him off-handedly that leather jackets look good on him, he buys 3 of the same and never wears any other jacket again. when you painstakingly teach him how to add a footnote to his document, he scrawls the steps down on a post-it and nudges you for validation each time he finishes a page, blinking at you like a puppy needing a treat. which is why he treats his rom-com watching sessions with you very seriously. 
"so it's bad that he didn't ask her out properly?" 
"yes," you nod, enthusiastically. "really bad. he shouldn't assume that she's interested and just act like he has a place in her life now — he has to earn it." 
"right, yeah, fuck him," he growls, scrawling on his notebook. 
you peek over at what he's doing — he's added 'not officially asking her out' on the 'no' list. 
"are you sure the double negative won't confuse you?" 
"the what?"
"nevermind." 
reaching for the popcorn, you peer at the screen. "oh, and that's a good thing." 
"where?" his head shoots up, and he squints at the screen. "what?" 
"see, he asked 'can i kiss you'?' playfully, you glare at him. "you rarely ask for anything." 
"that's not true…" he grumbles. "i asked you if i was making you uncomfortable…" 
"yeah, that was one time…" 
"i asked if i could eat you out last wednesday…" 
"that wasn't asking that was sweet-talking." 
"well can we fuck now?" he blurts out. running a hand through his hair, he tosses his notebook to the side. 
a pause. 
"well?" he raises his eyebrows. 
"uh, okay…"
"was that asking or sweet-talking? oh-" and for some reason, he blushes when he registers your response. "you said yes." 
fuck. "yeah, i guess." you place the popcorn down on the bedside table, feeling shy.
"well, as you wish, princess," he whispers conspiratorially, crawling over to you to pull you in for a kiss. 
"see," you mumble against his lips. "you didn't ask…"
"oh, fuck, yeah sorry." breaking away from you, he wipes his lips on the back of his hand. "re-do, re-do. um…" he lowers his head. 
"okay you don't have to re-do it i was just pointing it out…" 
"can i kiss you, angel?" 
you freeze.
he really was too pretty for his own good, his hair falling over his eyes, the ethereal flush to his cheeks. 
"yes, please," you mumble, and he surges towards you, pressing his tongue into yours and running his electric touch down your spine. 
"can i take your clothes off, angel?" 
you murmur your consent as he smiles wide, helping you out of your clothes but lightly slapping your hands away when you reach to do your bra. 
"this is my favourite part," he sighs, as he unhooks the clasps from behind your back, hooking a careless finger around a strap and pulling the lacy piece off of you, wetting his lips when he sees your breasts. 
"can i suck on your boobs?" 
"god, haechan-" he giggles as he takes one in his mouth, teeth lightly grazing on it from his smile. his hand comes up to the other one and he ghosts his touch over it, before deciding better and squeezing it roughly in his palm. 
kissing down your stomach, he reaches the band of your panties with a smile. 
"are you going to ask if you can take them off, haechan." 
"i was gonna ask if i could eat you out," he murmurs against your skin, kitten licking your inner thighs and sending chills up your spine. 
swallowing hard, you nod. "yes." 
nosing at your clothed clit, he sucks the seat of your panties into his mouth, lips puckered in an adorable way if he wasn't literally trying to suck it off your skin. 
"haechan…you can take them off," you say, weakly, feeling heat pool in your navel. 
"mmhm…" he says, both hands winding around your thighs to grip onto the fabric of your panties. "or i could do this." with one harsh movement he's ripping them off of you, holding the pieces of cloth in his hands gleefully as he plunges forward and sucks harshly on your folds.
"haechan," you half-moan, half shout. "why did you do that…" 
"i'm sorry, baby," he flattens his tongue and laps at you, flicking his tongue against your clit. "i'll buy you new sets, i'll buy you as many sets as you want…" stiffening his tongue, his prods at your entrance and tries to reach as far into you as he can, licking at your walls, his nose bumping into your clit as he tilts his head this way and that. 
the pleasure increases tenfold when he starts moaning, and you finally come to your senses enough to see how he's humping the bed, his hips moving in time with the way he was licking at you. "taste so sweet," he moans. "cum on my face, angel. fuck…" he whines obscenely, hips moving faster against the sheets as he shoves two fingers into you, making your back arch. "can you cum for me?" 
you let your orgasm crash into you, the pleasure burning through you and making you go lightheaded. haechan is whimpering and moaning, and you realise you have your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him away from your core and making his neck crane up. you almost let go before you remember that he likes it, so you pull a little harder and watch the way his hips stutter against the bed, achy moans filling the air as he cums. 
"sorry," he gasps, "fuck, sorry…" he crumples into your arms. "it felt so good…i couldn't help myself." 
"it's okay…" you still when you feel something prod at your entrance. "haechan-" but you're cut off by a loud moan, as haechan pushes his softening cock into you. "haechan, are you sure-"
"hurts," he moans. "but it'll feel better soon, it'll feel…fuck fuck fuck," his hips moving in an uneven rhythm, as if he can't decide whether to stop or go harder. "just a bit more…" he mumbles to himself. 
deciding to help him, you smooth your hands down his chest and wrap your legs around him. he loves it when you cling to him during sex, he's told you openly, and he bites back another sigh as the pain seems to dissipate into raw pleasure again. 
"just a bit more, baby," you murmur in his ear. he hiccups, nodding as he starts to pound into you in earnest, slapping sounds echoing in the room as his cock abuses the one spot inside you that makes you see stars. stretched out and filled by him, you rock your hips into his too, feeling his thick cock bulge inside you.
"can i cum in you, please?" he asks, softly, painfully. from where he lies on top of you, his brow glistening with sweat and his eyes watery from the overstimulation, you could never say no to him. he cums when you do, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being too much to bear, and he slumps in your arms, hips still pulsing against yours until you physically push him and he slips out of you.
haechan takes your words to heart. when you tell him to ask for permission, he does it throughout aftercare — asking for permission to run you a bath, to make you tea, to pull you closer in bed. and as you let his eyes meet yours, his gaze seeping into your pupils and making your mind go hazy, you wonder if he takes your words so seriously that he'll never consider moving from the affection you asked for, to the love you were too scared to want.
x
"did you forget something at my place?" 
"no." a pause. "if i did, it would be too late because i'm almost home."
"then why are you calling?" 
"because i'm cold, and my shoes are wet, and it's all your fault." he huffs petulantly, his words muffled by a pout you can imagine vividly in your mind's eye. "because you wouldn't let me stay the night." 
"haechan," you started. "i already told you i have really bad insomnia…" he grumbles to himself and you think you can hear him mocking your tone. "i really need to sleep for tomorrow because i have that test-" 
"oh yeah?" he bites back, annoyance clear in his tone. "and how's your sleeping going huh? are you talking to me in your sleep now?" 
you make an incredulous sound. "if anything you should be kinder to me since i evidently can't sleep right now-"
"you know i could have just fucked you right?"
what the fuck. the sound of footsteps on gravel crunch on even louder, anger evident in the way he's practically stomping his way back to his apartment. 
"haechan…what?" 
"sex and other forms of physical intimacy at bedtime have been shown to increase drowsiness, reduce the time it takes to fall asleep, and improve overall sleep quality," he rattles off. when you don't respond, the anger seeps back into his tone. "i'm not making this up! that's a direct quote from the chief of pul…shit, pulmo…pulmonology at Kaiser Permanente in Honolulu." 
"what's pulmonology?" 
"how the fuck should i know?" another frustrated crunch. "but she's the chief of it, so she should know what she's saying." 
your head is still reeling. stall, he gets distracted easily. "w-when did you look this up?" 
"two weeks ago, when you told me you had trouble sleeping." crunch. "i had a…a….hypothetical…?"
"hypothesis?" 
"don't interrupt me," he snaps. "i just remembered that people get sleepy after sex, and i knew there had to be a scientific reason. i'm not stupid you know." 
"i know…" you say, weakly. 
"but you wouldn't let me stay the night, for some reason you don't want to fuck me anymore, so now you have to suffer the consequences." the sound of a key fumbling in the door. 
"haechan…"
his voice drops an octave, a harsh rasp you've only heard when it was late at night or early in the morning. "i could have taken such good care of you, angel. i would've eaten you out…stretched you out on my fingers…" 
his next words are almost condescending. "would've fucked you until you passed out, or at least fucked you dumb."  
confusion, and something far stronger and deeper, tug at your stomach. 
"haechan?" your voice is a pale whisper. 
he hums. 
"i'm sorry. come back." you cringe at sound of your voice, small and achy, but you can't help yourself. 
there's silence on the other end. 
"you…want me to go back?" 
"please." 
and the line goes dead. 
x
it's a solid 15 minute walk from haechan's to your apartment, but it only takes 7 minutes after he hangs up for him to slam against your door, pounding on it with an urgency far too loud for 12.30am. 
when you open the door he crumples to the floor at your feet. he's drenched, completely, gasping and panting so hard you can see his chest move in and out with each shuddering breath. his mouth moving soundlessly, he crawls towards you, dragging himself up with a hand scrabbling at the wall, and your arms circle his waist immediately to steady him. 
his eyes are squinted shut in pain at what you assume is a stitch in his side, but he's still mouthing the same set of words over and over again soundlessly, too out of breath to vocalise them. 
"haechan, it's okay-" you splutter, helping him out of his rain-soaked sweater, his white shirt stuck to his skin underneath. "breathe. fuck, i told you to come back but i didn't tell you to sprint, did you fall? why would you-" 
"- don'tchangeyourmind," he rasps, gasping and hiccuping between breaths, the words finally ringing out in the still air of your apartment. "don't change your mind, don't change your mind…don't-" he coughs, his breaths still feeling more like punches than drawing air. 
"please don't change your mind," he begs.
his eyes are stealing the words from the cavity of your chest, drinking you in until you can't think of anything to say.
whimpering at your lack of response, he places his whole body weight on you, forehead gently nudging yours. "you told me to come back," he whispers. "i didn't want to give you any time to regret it. just now…when you made me leave…" his voice drops low. 
he was supposed to be the boy who just wanted to fuck you. but why did it sound like he was talking about something else entirely?
"i don't regret it, haechan," you say, softly. "and i could never…" you swallow. "i could never change my mind about you." 
he blinks, dazed. "i…" he takes a shuddering breath, and you tense up in fear. did he think you were alluding to something more? 
"haechan, i just meant-" 
"fuck, i don't understand anything you're saying," he blurts out. "i just know i want you, now." he drops his arms to your waist. "don't make me beg…i mean, fuck, if you told me to i would, but i just…" 
"you don't have to use your words," murmuring, you run your hands up and down his arms, and he shivers at your touch, closing his eyes.
"but you need to hear them," he insists. "words of affirmation…remember?" your heart thunders in your chest. 
"haechan…"
"i want to feel like i have you." his lips ghost over yours. "please?"
"please," you repeat back at him, and he's all over you. 
he carries you to your room, placing you gently on the bed. things go by in a blur, his gentle voice guiding you through the motions, skin against skin and his lips kissing you everywhere. before you know it, you're straddling his thigh as he drags your hips, grinding you down onto him as his mouth licks at your neck. 
"louder, angel," he pants, flexing the muscles in his thigh and making you whimper as you feel yourself coming close. this is the most silent he's been with you ever, his ears attuned to every catch of your breath, every choked sound you let out, that he falls silent to drink it all in. 
"need more," you beg. "need you, please…"
"you have me." his eyes soften, the sight of you falling apart on just his thighs giving him an aching feeling in his chest. this was different from the girls who would fall over themselves to talk to him, who used their own tricks to meet his. this was you, giving all your control to him. "you're doing so good for me."
sniffling, you grind harder against him, chasing your climax. "i am?" 
he allows himself a small groan. he wanted to swallow you whole. "come here," he says, tenderness straining at his voice. 
he stretches you out before he slips into you, waits until you give him the go ahead. he makes you wrap your arms around him, feet planted on the bed as your body intertwines with his, as he fucks up into you. he wants to feel you on him until he can finally decipher every look that flits through your eyes, until he can read your thoughts and drown in them. he presses a hand to your navel, and feels himself moving inside you, angling his hips until he knows he's ramming his tip against your sweet spot, feels your breath catch as if it were his own, your tears mixing with his sweat. 
he bites down on your shoulder when he cums with you. he doesn't know if it's to savour the sound of you falling apart because of him, or if it's to stop himself from admitting he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. 
x
when you wake up, he's in your bed. scrawling on a piece of paper. 
he doesn't notice you're awake, so you move closer to him on the pretence that you're still sleeping, watching through heavy eyelids the way he's muttering to himself, biting on his lip harshly. the ache between your legs gives you a sense of bliss, and the sight before you gives you an overwhelming sense of peace in your heart.
feeling your body shift, he absentmindedly reaches out to stroke your hair. it's that specific action that gives you the courage to sit up, your heart full. 
"good morning, haechan." 
"what's another word for fuck?" he's not looking at you, mindlessly chewing on his fingernails as his eyes dart across his piece of paper. 
"um…the verb or the expletive?" 
"the action." 
"why do you need another word for 'fuck'?" placing a hand on his shoulder, you lower your head to try and catch his attention. "haechan? what are you doing?" 
"i need another word for fuck because renjun told me not to use the word 'fuck'," he mumbles, crossing things out on his scrap of paper. 
"why?" you laugh, watching as his lips begin to pout slightly at how things were not turning out the way he planned at all. 
unable to stop himself, he lets out a whine. "because it's unromantic-" clenching his fists, he yelps as the speech he has scrawled out gets crumpled up. "fuck!" 
"haechan, it's okay," you're trying hard to keep a straight face, wanting to match his sincerity and tone. "is that a letter? for me?" 
"it's my script," he snaps. "it's my planned confession." groaning, he tries to straighten it out so he can read the words on it. "you said…you said it was a bad thing not to confess, which means it's a good thing to confess…" 
you feel like you're about to cry. "explain in your own words," you place a hand on his wrist. 
"i- you-" he takes a deep breath, letting the crumpled piece of paper fall off the bed and onto the floor. "you deserve someone who can keep up with you," he starts, quietly. "you deserve someone who will understand your jokes on first listen, who can hold long conversations with you without getting distracted by how hot you are when you're talking about something smart. i can't be that person." 
the words sting at your heart. is that really how haechan felt when he was around you? 
"but also-" his voice grows stronger, a hint of defiance in his tone. "i know for a fact that i make you laugh harder than anyone you know, even if you're laughing at me and not with me. i also know i can fuck you better than anyone you've ever been with, like, look-" 
he roughly pulls you towards him, lips finding yours messily. unfazed by the way your body tenses in surprise, he slips his tongue in your mouth just as he pulls you to grind onto his lap, causing you to gasp into his mouth. it doesn't take long for the shock to wear off, your body so attuned to him that a buzz runs through your veins — and you're just about to press yourself against him, starting to reciprocate his sloppy kisses, when he pulls away with a wet sound. 
panting, he swipes his thumb affectionately at the corner of your lips. "see?" 
you can't tell if you're frustrated that it ended so soon, or confused at what just happened. "see what?" 
"that was what, 15 seconds?" both your breaths come quick and fast, the tension in the room so palpable you could feel it press insistently against your skin. "and look at you now." a smile tugs at his lips, and he raises his eyebrows cockily. "i'm the only one who can do that to you." 
"yes, you are." you affirm.  
"yeah, because, i know how to touch you-" 
"because i'm in love with you," you interrupt, softly. 
and haechan literally stops breathing. 
you can see the way his chest stops moving entirely — his mouth hanging open, doe eyes wide. it's almost comical, the way his body freezes up. 
"i can't tell if you're doing that on purpose."  
still nothing. 
"did you really stop breathing?" 
"you love me?" 
he comes back to life spluttering, hands pointing to you, than himself, trying to make sure he hadn't heard wrong. 
"i love you," you repeat, gently. placing your palms on his chest, you feel his beating heart under your fingertips.
"you're not scared anymore?" he places his hands on your face in wonder, brushing a thumb on your cheekbone. you let yourself fall into his eyes, soft in the morning light. "you make it the easiest thing in the world," you whisper. the two of you bask in the moment, him breathing in your air, leaning closer and closer to you. your lips brush.
"fuck."
you whine as he pulls away, a horrified look on his face.
"y/n, i think i brainwashed you into loving me," he whispers, voice laced with genuine fear.
sighing, you gently bump your forehead with his. "if you make this about your dick..."
"no," he lets out a strangled sound. "that day, when we were calling and i was asking you questions..."
"haechan i swear to god-"
"those were 36 questions to make you fall in love," he whispers, pained. "y/n...i think i manipulated you. fuck i knew science was real, but i didn't know it was that useful-"
"after we make out, i'm going to have to explain the difference between pseudo-science and science to you", you grumble, as you push him back onto the bed and close the distance between you.
x
he whispers it into your hair, your face buried in his bare chest one night, his arms wrapped securely around you. 
"i don't want to go back tonight." 
"then don't." you hold him a little tighter, feeling him shift under your touch. "stay." 
"no, as in, i don't want to go back, ever." 
"haechan." 
he hums, hands starting to stroke at your sides, rubbing his thumb against the swell of your chest. 
"is this your way of asking to move in with me?" 
"i dunno…" 
"you do know that it's a big thing in a relationship right? and you're going to have to actually move out of your apartment, and figure out the rent on mine, and…"
"i don't care about that," he mumbles, a hint of stubborness in his tone. breathing in your hair, his voice drops even lower. "all i know is, i want to wake up tomorrow right here, with you. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after." 
"yeah?" 
his arms fall away from you as you sit up, brushing your hair out of your face to look at him in the lamplight. propped up against the headboard, his eyes wide and gaze so tender it steals your breath away like a blow to your ribcage. you can see the hesitance written all over him, the slight tension in his shoulder-blades, his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the sheets. 
"please say yes," he whispers, more to himself than to you. 
"haechan…" you take his hands in yours, and kiss his fingertips gently. "please move in with me." 
exhaling in exaggerated relief, he pulls you onto him and kisses you deeply. mouth moving against yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he focuses on your tongue moving against his, his teeth grazing your lips. trying to convey all the love he had for you in the way he gently held the back of your neck, his other pressing down on the small of your back until your body curves into his. 
"if you move in with me," you smile, breathlessly, when he finally lets you go. "you can finally fuck me awake, like you promised." 
a pause. 
"is that all i am to you?" sadly, he runs a hand absentmindedly down his beautiful body, landing on his thighs. his eyes are downcast when he mumbles out, "just a hot body for you to fuck?" 
panicking, you lean into him quickly, cupping his face in your hands as you settle down on his lap. "baby, you know that's not true. you're the most genuine, kind, loving….." you trail off, eyes narrowing when you realise he's biting his lip to keep from laughing. "manipulative, conniving…" 
his eyes crinkle adorably as he wraps you in his arms, rubbing the tip of his nose on yours. "you love me soooo much," he whispers, almost conspiratorially. 
yes.
pause. "also, what does conniving mean?" 
yes. you did.
taglist: @puduwhore @haechanalpha @anniebyanto @sunnynaa @newdeobi @strwberrydinosaur @gyulfriend @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi @beomibeom
-> go to part 2 here!
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antidesire · 1 year
Text
your older boyfriend is just soo considerate ♡
disclaimer.. age gap relationship, re6/vendetta leon so 37+, reader is 21+, first part is fluff, other part.. size kink, like a big one, calls reader small/tiny, hint of dacryphilia, he likes taking care of you, it feeds his ego, roughness, spitting, choking, manhandling, this is so self indulgent don’t even talk to me, just jumbled headcanons about size kink w older bf leon
reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open
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leon would spend hours upon hours, way into the early morning listening to your worries and woes, how your job was stressing you out, how you are convinced that one professor is failing you on purpose, or how your friends had gone quiet on you suddenly. any little worry he would reassure away alongside a firm kiss on your forehead.
you admired him so very much, if he couldn't see you had the biggest heart eyes for him then he was a fool. every little thing he did, all his silly little habits had your heart bursting at the seams.
he would encourage you over the smallest of things,
oh you learned a neat new hobby? that's great, leon wants to hear every little detail on what it's about and how far you've gotten with it.
you've worked so hard this week? you need a little treat, he's giving you his card for the day.
got out of bed today despite struggling? you're spending the entire night in his arms, you want a massage? head rub? shoulder to cry on? you get it all. you're the most important thing to him.
he'd showed up at your college/university to pick you up early, and it was lunch time so he caught a lot of attention. "leonnn!" you called out ever so sweetly, quickly rushing over to your boyfriend in the parking lot, admiring your cute little outfit you adorned yourself in today, "y'wanna meet some of my friends?"
you had done nothing but gush about this man to all of your friends, and when they finally met him, they understood, they more then understood, some of them were evidently jealous.
you'd never have to lift a finger with him around, he spoiled you rotten.
okay sappy stuff over, i wanna fuck this old man
he's just soo considerate.. ♡
that you don't even realize his presence until he is pressed against your ass, plucking your purposefully placed by him favourite glass down from the top shelf, his other hand swiftly finding place under your shirt, warm fingertips pinching the soft flesh of your hip.
"you're too small, you'll hurt yourself." he'd scold you, lips attaching to your neck, laying fleeting kisses there which got your breath heavy as your hands gripped onto the kitchen counter, feeling him press you further into the appliance.
it was a little humiliating when he’d whisk you into his lap in public, important meetings, fancy dinners, you name it, no matter what, you’re sitting on his lap.
he’d watch you toy with his fingers, fiddle with his rings just to see how small they were against his, would be purposefully pressing you against his hard-on just to watch the way you dig your nails into his palm helplessly.
constantly squishing you against him, towering over you, pinning you to things, against things.
tell him he won’t fit, give him fat tears rolling down your cheek to match and he is talking so sweet to you, “ohh baby, s’okay, i got you sweetheart shh shh, i’ll make it feel so good.”
sometimes even he’d use the excuse that he’s just too big, like there’s no way you’re not getting his fingers fucked into your pussy and ate out before you attempt to take even an inch of him :((
“you’re so tight baby, how many times have i fucked this cute little pussy and you’re still not used to it?” he’d rasp out, dragging out every second of pushing his fat cock into your pussy to set an example.
“needy cunt can’t stop sucking me in, relax sweetheart.” he’d coo in a voice that sounded like pure honey.
the way you could feel the burning stretch every time he pushed his cock in your cunt had your back lurching off of the mattress, he had to push you back down with his hand pressing against your stomach which sent you into a frenzy, seeing the way his fingers sprawled out across your stomach.
bulge kink ♡
when he first saw the outline of him in your fucking tummy it sent him absolutely ballistic, he’d be sweating, dick twitching inside you and saying the crudest nastiest things as his fingers trailed the shape,
“look, look right fucking now-“ he grunted and you’d have to force yourself out of your daze, leaning up on your elbows and seeing what he saw, you’d cum right on the spot, especially when he stuffs himself deeper, he’d be totally pussy whipped, pussy drunk, whatever you wanna call it, he is just crazy for it.
“you feel my that baby? deep inside you? mmh? you make me feel so good, you know that don’t, you angel?” he wouldn’t let up on you unless you gave him a coherent answer.
a lot of bouncing on his knee, pretends not to notice you’re all hot and bothered until you’re eventually rutting against him, begging for his attention with tears in your eyes, sticky underwear, and a puddle of your arousal making his denim even darker.
loves the way you struggle to take his cock down your throat, you always have your hands all over him, throat sore, gagging and spitting to try make it easier- you’re so sloppy and your teeth graze against him a lot but he can’t help but find it endearing, just means he has a lot to teach you.
one day, laying you down to fuck your throat, watching the way his cock slides deeper and deeper, he can see how your throat expands to accommodate for his size.
manhandling you, like a lot, like everywhere, i told you you never have to lift a finger. his strength would make your stomach clench in desperation every time, you’re riding him but he still takes the lead, hips fucking up into you as he pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch so he can toy with your nipples in his mouth.
his entire body engulfing yours as he fucks you into the mattress, arms flexing either side of your head, all you can smell is him, all you can feel is him, everything is about him.
if you ever got too tired from doing such a good job bouncing on his dick he’d let you lay limply against him so he can use you like his own personal cocksleeve ♡
this man fucks you against walls, lifts you up to fuck you, the most uncomfortable positions are just so easy for him- they’re so worth it, he loves nothing more than wrecking your cute little cunt.
always slapping away your hands when you try to initiate anything, thumb playing with your clit before you could even reach down, his hand around your throat before you could even push his hand towards it, fingers stuffed down your throat before your tongue even fully hung out your mouth, spit dripping down your tongue as the two of you made out.
“let me take care of you.”
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arminsumi · 9 months
Text
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ DILF TOJI Ⅱ
Toji x fem!reader / part Ⅰ
Overview; Toji's a mean, cheating dilf
Warnings; 🔞MDNI, nasty awful SMUT, infidelity, slight dubcon, age gap, slight size kink, mean!dom!Toji x sub!reader, light humiliation, dirty talk, light spanking, hairpulling, light dacryphilia, making you call him 'master' 🥵 orgasm control, pn 'bitch', Toji ain't shaved down there 😏, i think it's 🐶 position??
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Tormenting you with pleasure is dilf!Toji's favorite pastime, he absolutely adores that dumb look on your face as your tongue lolls out your mouth and your eyes roll into the back of your head.
"You look like a pornstar, baby." He sneers, "Have you got no shame? You know this is the same bed where I knocked up my wife? Doesn't that make you feel bad? 'Eh, too fucked out to care, hm?"
He's right. He's totally right. You're too fucked out to care, to even form a coherent thought that isn't sinful. The pressure his fat, dirty cock exerts on your gummy walls is unbearable, almost crossing the line of uncomfortable.
Those nasty squelching sounds that your pussy makes when squeezing and sucking on his dick is outright delicious to him.
"Oh, Toji — " you mewl, pawing at his muscles.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back, forcing you into an arched position.
"You better call me master in bed, or you're not allowed to cum."
"I'm sorry master!" you whine, feeling your hole clench and unclench uncontrollably around his nasty cock.
"That's better. Now milk my cock dry with that pathetic little cunt."
The way he stretched you out made you shudder.
And his thrusting... dear lord. Merciless. Unforgiving. He's ruining you for other men, making your pussy mold to the shape of him.
So many fat tears rolled down your cheeks that you started sniffling, hiccoughing, moaning; you sounded like you were really going through it.
"Are you fuckin' cryin'?" he cooed cruelly, "Can't take it?"
"No, I can take it! I can take it!" you cry determinedly, relaxing your little hole so he can get deeper. That puts a pleased smile on his face.
When he's close, he growls into your ear, getting balls deep even if your pussy can barely handle it.
His cock spits out thick, creamy ropes of cum. His big, veiny hand lands a harsh slap on your ass. He lets out another low growl at the sight of your ass jiggling.
"Now you can cum." he permits. "C'mon, show me how dirty this pussy can get."
You work it back on his cock like an animal in heat, panting erotically like some hentai voice actor. He just thinks you're so pitifully cute; just some dumb young bitch needy for a married man's dick.
"Keep going, get that relief." he encourages, intently watching you bounce your hole up and down on his messy cock. You've creamed all over him, it's being frothed up at his base.
And it feels so good when you reach the base of his cock with each sloppy move, because he's so thick there. You can feel his hair brush up against your skin, tickling it.
Even the buildup to your orgasm feels threateningly good, you have to cling to anything within reaching distance to comfort your body.
When it rushes through you, Toji just chuckles to himself. "Mmm, love that young lil' pussy. Look at the mess you made on my cock."
He forces your head down to look at all the cream and cum and slick all over his cock.
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redr0sewrites · 1 month
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One thing I can't help but feel a Sub!Vox would unexpectedly enjoy is getting reminded/teased about the fact he has a safe word he can use.
Like, beyond just the safe, practical etiquette of double checking and making sure everything's still okay, in the scenario that he absolutely is still okay: You got him so worked up, overstimulated, repeatedly sobbing out "I can't"s, only to have you sweetly cut in with a sweet "Do you need to use the safe word~?" (Or any other possible non-verbal "STOP" sign that got agreed upon), and having that answer be "No."
Him getting faced with the fact that he can so, so, so easily have anything that's happening to him stop, should he so wish it, and yet, despite all his whining and begging and crying, he's actively choosing not to have it stop.
Him just getting so flustered by that paradox of him being reminded that he's in complete control over having no control~
YESSSSSS AUGHGHH I NEED TO PAMPER HIM‼️
🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, safeword mentioned, overstim, not proofread bc i am both sick and tired im so sorry
🥀minors dni
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once vox is in subspace, he really is a mess- drooling, moaning, whimpering, clawing at the sheets, and most obviously, crying
to most people this would give the impression that he wants to stop, but in reality, vox very very rarely uses the safeword but fuuuck it is SUCH a turn on for him that the opportunity is there
we all know he has a power kink, and he's so obviously in a submissive position during sex, but the fact that you're the one allowing him to stop if he needs to? it gets to his head
it also opens the door to his humiliation kink, bc nothing turns him on more than being humiliated. the fact that he could so, so easily quit, just walk out and be out of the embarrassing, submissive position he's in but instead he finds himself wanting to be wrecked- more than wrecked, downright ruined by you when he could so easily walk away. the entire situation is exhilarating and arousing to him
he also adores it when you use it mockingly, if you start cooing "aww, poor baby, do y'need to tap out already? gonna use the safeword sweetie?" he's already babbling, pleading with you to keep going, how he's being suuuuch a good boy! and then? well, he's rambling on and on about how he can't stop yet, how he needs to cum! how could you deny him?
vox takes punishments well, but will brat out the whole time, whimpering and whining about how he can't take it. however, the second you threaten to stop, or offer the safeword? he's putty in your hands, drooling and clawing at the sheets, practically begging you to keep going. its the quickest way to get him to completely submit to you without even another word!
vox isn't used to relinquishing control in general, so the power dynamics proposed by the safeword honestly make him trust you even more. even outside of the bedroom, it flusters him when you ask before touching him or when you ask about sex instead of just initiating.
when it comes to softer sex, vox also likes to be reminded of the safeword! sometimes he's just so stressed out that he just wants to be pampered, but he reaches a point where his mind gets so fuzzy he just can't stop :( he's mewling and whining as you ride him, tears streaming down his screen as you praise him, and he doesn't realize how far gone he is until you gently remind him he can tap out whenever he needs to. vox will nod, eyes watery and face flushed, and soon he becomes more aware of just how sleepy he is. he always makes sure you both cum one more time before tapping out, but i can also see him having a bit of a somnophilia kink, so he would probably consent to letting you fuck him in his sleep, with the promise of the safeword still being valid
i mentioned this before in the dry humping hcs, but sometimes, vox will get so needy and horny that he just can't stop, so the reminder of the safeword is often very useful when he's too far gone to communicate but is like 2 seconds away from passing out. but sometimes he likes to be pushed to the edge too, so he won't always use the safeword but gets off on the fact that the option is there
also tiny additional hc, i think he would like to use a meaningful word for a safeword. maybe something related to technology, like radio or something, or possibly electric. like if he started saying electric, it would mean he wanted to stop. or i think he would use a color system, you would ask him what color and he'd say red green or yellow depending on how into it he is or how he's feeling etc etc. either way he wants it to be meaningful and not just some random word- like he wants a sentimental reasoning behind whatever word you choose (feel free to comment safeword ideas so i can use them in future fics 👹)
vox lets out a wanton moan, glitching and panting as he humps your thigh like a dog in heat. he's writhing under your touch, unsure of where to put his hands when all he can focus on is the pressure against his painfully hard cock. its sinful the way he drags his hips, mewling deliriously as he creams in his pants for what feels like the hundreth time, and yet his pace doesn't falter as he ruts against you. he's a panting mess and barely coherent and he babbles, whimpering your name over and over. "fuc- zzz -k, 'm so- ple-zzz-" vox gasps, thighs shaking as you wrap your arms around his neck. his cock throbs when you make eye contact with him and his thighs squeeze around yours. a stain darkens the front of his pants, leftover from his previous release in his dazed rut. "vox," you coo, rubbing the ports on the back of his screen as he struggles to remain coherent enough to focus on your words. "vox, baby, do you need the safeword?" your voice is sickeningly sweet, laced with concern and lust.
vox paused at the thought, dread seeping into his body as he let out a pathetic whine. "nno, 'm fine," he slurred, rolling his hips against your thigh. "m not even tired," he mewls deliriously, and you nod, taking notice of his drooping eyelids and slowing movements. "okay sweetie, only one more round though, okay?" vox nods, tears streaming down his screen as his claws dig into the plush of your hips. you steady him, and you move your leg, assisting him in grinding against you as you shake your thigh. vox whimpers, static lacing his voice as he glitches out entirely. repeating your name like a prayer, his body tenses as he cums fast and hard, soaking his pants yet again. vox collapses against you, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping. "you okay, baby?" you purr, and he nods, slumping deeper into your touch. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?"
UWRGJREHHEHEHEHE I AM ALWAYS IN THE MOOD FOR SUB VOX!!!!!!!!!! i love the idea of being soft w him sm- i genuinely have not written enough sfw stuff for vox so if anyone has anything fluffy to say ab him PLEASE come into my inbox. ALSO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING LUTE RELATED TO SAY ESPECIALLY/INCLUDING SMUT ALSO PLS COME INTO MY INVOX BC RUEGRHRGRHGR THEYRE BOTH MY FAVS RN
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iznsfw · 2 months
Text
Lucid Dream
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju
IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut
8,525 words
Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person
Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)
Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!
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Wonyoung is beautiful.
You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.
The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.
Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 
Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.
Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.
“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.
“Uh-huh.”
Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.
Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 
She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 
All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 
Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.
She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 
She’s the prettiest woman in the world.
You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 
“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”
“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”
Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.
So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.
It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.
“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.
Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.
She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 
You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?
To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.
To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.
You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.
“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”
If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 
She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”
The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.
You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”
You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 
You don’t. 
You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.
-
2:05 a.m., more specifically.
-
Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.
But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?
Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.
Maybe you need the real thing.
Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 
You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.
“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”
Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.
And it says the exact same thing.
fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 
i miss you 
You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 
The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.
But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?
Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 
What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 
XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.
Fine. Click it, you’re curious.
Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.
The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.
There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.
There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 
No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.
That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 
And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 
That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 
But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 
Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 
Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 
It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?
:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.
You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.
Stop it.
She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 
But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.
Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:
alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…
You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 
You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 
Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?
Open the door. This one did.
Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 
How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.
“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 
She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”
The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 
So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.
You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”
In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.
She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.
The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.
Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.
She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”
You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.
“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”
“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.
You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 
You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 
Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.
Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.
You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?
Well, because of her.
Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.
It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?
Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.
You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.
Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.
“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”
When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 
“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”
You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 
You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 
Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”
“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”
“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”
The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.
You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.
It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.
Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.
“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.
She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 
“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”
Yeah, that’s what she wants.
You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.
Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.
Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.
Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 
That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.
Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”
If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.
You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.
“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”
Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 
“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”
Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 
“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”
However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 
“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”
Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 
She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.
“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”
Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.
“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”
Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.
Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”
Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.
You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.
Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.
Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.
But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.
It was you on your wedding day.
You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”
The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.
Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 
You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.
“Oh, oh, oh!” 
What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.
Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 
“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”
That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 
“Keep your whore mouth shut.”
Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 
Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.
But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.
You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 
“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”
Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”
“What if I say yes?” 
“Fuck.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”
Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 
No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 
This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—
—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 
“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”
You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 
Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.
“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”
Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”
You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 
That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 
“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”
Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 
She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.
“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”
“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”
 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.
Not quite.
Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 
But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”
Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 
“You know exactly where.”
Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.
“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”
You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”
The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.
It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 
Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 
“Daddy,” she whines.
Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”
It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.
You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 
The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.
You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 
Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.
Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 
The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”
You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 
Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 
You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.
“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”
“Are you sure you want to act like that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”
Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 
Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 
You know what she’d choose.
Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 
No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 
Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.
“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”
“As long as you—”
“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 
She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.
The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.
Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.
It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?
Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 
“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”
She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 
“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”
There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.
You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 
But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 
The tears finally fall from her eyes. 
The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.
Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.
Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.
Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.
So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.
Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.
Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.
You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.
“Daddy… daddy…” 
Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.
“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 
She nods. Good girl.
Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.
Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.
Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.
“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”
Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 
Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.
Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.
“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”
Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.
“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”
Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”
Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 
Minju got what she wanted in the end.
-
The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 
It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 
“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 
She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.
And you?
You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”
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darby-rowe · 4 months
Text
18+ | nsfw | mdni young!sub!coriolanus snow x fem!dom!reader cw sub coryo, reader in lingerie, slight degradation & humiliation, mommy kink, premature ejaculation, not proofread based on this ask. -- hope you like it, anon!
“And here’s the third set I bought,” you say as you re-enter the bedroom, wearing a baby-pink lingerie set adorned with tiny bows and ribbons. You stand in front of Coriolanus, showing off your body in ways that you know will make him tick. You witness in real time his control slipping away, as prior to your little fashion show, you had ordered Coryo to not touch you nor himself under any circumstance. You have to suppress a smirk as you watch him grip the bed sheets, his mind switching between spreading his legs or crossing his legs, as either position brought him great discomfort.
You twirl for him, revealing how the lingerie set hugged the contours of your body so perfectly. “What do you think, honey?” you ask, your voice dripping with innocence as if you have no idea of the effect your body had on Coriolanus.
But you know. You know damn well.
Coriolanus swallows hard. “You look wonderful,” he chokes out, fidgeting on the bed. “That’s a very pretty color on you, my dear. You have quite the eye for… l-lingerie,”
You beam at him. “Why thank you! I definitely think my boobs look the best in this set, don’t you think?” You cup your breasts and lean forward so Coriolanus could fully view their shape. You know exactly what you’re doing.
You can tell that Coriolanus is close to losing his composure, letting your eyes flick down to his crotch to marvel at the outline of his painfully hard erection. You hum with delight as you knead at your breasts to prolong Coriolanus’s agony. “Don’t my boobs just look sooo good, baby? You wanna touch ‘em real quick?”
Coriolanus’s legs twitch as a shaky hand slowly advances towards your breasts, which you obviously swat away with a giggle. “You really thought I was gonna let you touch my tits?” you tut. “No baby. Not right now,”
Coriolanus begins to pant, his mind going dumb with desperation. “Please,” he whines. “Please let me touch you,”
You stand back up, folding your hands behind your back so your chest pops out fully. “Please what, baby? Please what?”
He swallows hard once more, his breath shaky. “Please… mommy, p-please let me touch you. I need to touch you, mommy,”
Aw, what a pathetic, needy little boy Coriolanus is. The way his body trembles – so jittery – at the thought of touching you; running his hands all over your body, cupping your breasts and ass, running his tongue down your pelvis to your soaking wet folds, and then finally pumping his cock so deep inside your cunt that your cervix is sore for days. And you are denying him of that fantasy just because you find it fun.
“I have one more set to show you, baby – just be patient,” you coo as you leave the bedroom to change your lingerie. You then re-enter wearing a maroon-colored set, complete with a thong, stockings, and a bra that barely covers your breasts.
Coriolanus looks like he’s about to lose his fucking mind. You were so sexy, so fuckable, and all he wanted to do was bury his aching hard dick deep inside your tight cunt. You make sure to go extra slow this time with showing off the lingerie, hearing how Coriolanus’s panting turns to frustrated grunts and whimpers. You mold your hands against the contours of your body, running them up your sides and over your breasts.
“How’s this one, bunny?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
“Mmmng, fuck, mommy I can’t take it,” Coriolanus whimpers, his legs fidgeting as he tries to deal with the throbbing in between his legs. “Wanna– wanna fuck you so hard, and come all over your lingerie,”
You blow air out of your mouth in a half-chuckle. “You must be losing your mind if you think for one second that I’m letting you blow your load all over this set. This wasn’t cheap,”
“Sorry,” he stutters, his hips making small circles. “Mommy, it hurts. My cock hurts. So hard,”
You place your hands on the bed as you lean in close towards his face, staring him deep in his pretty blue eyes. “You have no idea how hot it is that you get so hard just from staring at me,” you purr, and you swear you could feel the heat of his arousal emitting from between his legs. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Mommy’s pretty little bunny, just squirming and whining because his dick is so hard. I bet you’d love it if you could bury your cock deep inside my warm, wet, tight cunt,”
Coriolanus just whines. “Mommy, please…”
“Please what?”
“Please let me fuck you,” his voice comes out in tiny whimpers. You swear he’s on the verge of tears, his panting growing quicker. “I wanna fuck your pussy. Feel you squeezing on my cock. Please, please, I wanna fuck you, mommy. I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you…!”
It’s almost as if you don’t have to put in any effort in this relationship at all as you watch Coriolanus buck his hips and mewl pathetically as a wet spot appears on his pants, and the sight of him giving into his dirty thoughts is so fucking hot.
“Aww, baby,” you coo, tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear. You place a soft kiss on his forehead. “You’ll get to fuck me next time, I promise,”
don't be shy, let's talk. ♡
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star-xxx1 · 7 months
Note
after you are done, can you do sub! Bunny wanda next? If thats ok.
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Bunny's ache
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Sub! Bunny! Wanda Maxioff x dom! Fem! Reader.
Warnings: Heavy petplay, degradation, rough treatment, object insertion (carrot), mistress kink, squirting, wanda pushing out the carrot, a bit of anal play.
A/n: THIS IS KINKY, IAM SORRY (But hey, it is kinktober.)
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Wanda lay curled up in her big cage, stuffies, each one adorned with tiny bows or sparkly jewels, a mountain of pillows and pink fairy lights decorating her little heaven Her favourite pink fluffy blanket pulled over her, the comfortable plush foam underneath her fragile body, only added to the sweet warmth. Her favourite teddy bear secured tightly, wrapped in her arms, laced with the scent of her owner, you. Her subtle features were relaxed as she napped, turning over now and again. The tail plug nestled in her tight asshole acting as comfort. She was resting up for playtime, which was quickly approaching. Her bunny ears headband set firmly on her head.
You quietly sat down on the wooden floor and carefully opened the cage door, brushing her soft hair out of her face. "My sweet bunny wake up." Her eyes fluttered open. She yawned cutely, stretching her small body as she sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders. "It's time for playtime already?" You nodded. "Yes, bunny."
Wanda smiled brightly, her naked form climbing out of the cage and crawling onto your lap with a squeak of delight. "What do you have in store for us today?"
"You'll see." You kissed her flushed cheek, getting up with wanda still in your arms. As you carry her to the bedroom, Wanda's anticipation grows. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around at the familiar surroundings. You gently placed wanda down on the bed. "Baby, be a good girl and spread your legs." blushing but obeying, Wanda slowly spreads her legs for you revealing her wet, pink shaven pussy. "Good girl." You praised as wanda blushed. "Be a good little bunny and finger that little cunt whilst I go grab something." Her breath hitched at the sudden request. O-okay," Wanda replied, her voice trembling slightly. She slowly reached down between her legs, her fingers finding her wet, sensitive folds. With a deep breath, she started to probe and explore, feeling the warmth and moisture of her arousal. Starting with two fingers. She moaned softly, feeling herself getting wetter already. It didn't take long for her to grow impatient, though. As Wanda continued to pleasure herself, she couldn't help but grow more desperate for your return. Her moans became louder and more needy, her small body trembling with anticipation. She spread her legs even wider, offering easier access to her tight pussy.
When you returned, Wanda whimpered when you approached her, you set something down on the bed next to her. She was practically begging for your touch, her whole body shaking with desire. You pressed the heel of your hand against her clit and she arched back in pleasure, moaning loudly as her orgasm finally hit her, her juices flying everywhere, drenching the sheet beheath her in her squirt. She slowly pulled out her fingers, but you yanked them out her sensitive pussy and forced them into her mouth. Loudly gags escaped her mouth as she tasted herself on her fingers. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she clutched at the blankets beneath her, writhing in ecstasy. "Tasty?" You voice sweet so different from your rough actions. Wanda, still gasping for breath and trying to recover from her intense orgasm, nodded weakly, tears of pleasure and humiliation welling up in her eyes. "Y-yes... tasty," she managed to choke out between gasps. You removed her fingers. Wanda looked up at you, her eyes still glassy with lust and submission. She tried to regain some composure, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm slowly subsiding. "Lay down" Obediently, Wanda laid down on the bed, presenting her quivering pussy to you. Her heart raced as she waited for your next command.
Wanda bit her lower lip, her eyes locked onto yours, as you crawled next to her. "Please, mistress, please touch your bunny, my princess parts hurt." She winned. You kissed her pout away. You trailed the washed carrot up her body. Wanda saw the carrot, trembling with anticipation. Her mouth watered at the thought of it sliding into her tight pussy. "Please...may I have it?" Her breath hitched as she felt the coolness of the carrot against her sensitive skin. Her body arched upwards, seeking more contact. "Beg bunny." You commanded.
"Please, Mistress, i beg you to use your carrot on my tight little pussy." You laughed at her. "Fill me up with it." She begged. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as she felt the slightest touch of the carrot against her swollen clit. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her entire body trembling with need and desire. "Shh." You whispered into your sweet bunnys ear. She whimpered, already feeling the wetness seeping out of her aching pussy. She could feel herself grow even more desperate for you to finally give her what she had been begging for you. her body tense as she felt the carrot teasingly brush against her entrance. Her eyes were locked on yours, filled with trust and longing.
Your movements were slow and deliberate, filling her pussy with the carrot bit by bit. Wanda's legs trembled as she felt yourself inside her, stretching her tight pussy further, the carrot slid deeper into her tight channel. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure mixed with pain, a soft moan escaping her lips. She was completely at your mercy, her body trembling around the intruding carrot.Wanda's tight pussy gripped the carrot, stretching around it as you slowly pushed it inside. She moaned softly, her body tensing in anticipation of the inevitable penetration. You gave her no mercy gaining a fast pace. Wanda cried out as you fucked her with the carrot, her whole body trembling with shock and pleasure. She arched up off the bed, meeting every thrust of the carrot with a gasp and moan. Her cries grew louder, her body writhing under yours as you continued to use the carrot to violate her soaking hole.
"You fucking slut hmm? getting fucked with a carrot? how pathetic are you. Bunny." Wanda could only moan in response, her legs and arms trembling from the force with which you thrust the carrot in and out of her. your over hand came up to roughly play with her nipple, pinching, tugging the poor pink buds. Her nipple hardened under your harsh treatment, causing a shiver to run down her arched spine. She bit her lip harder, trying to contain her screams of pleasure as you continued to use her like this. You stopped fucking her with the carrot leaving it hang out her poor cunt.
"Do it yourself, you stupid mut." She reached down and picked up the carrot, positioned it at her entrance once again. Hesitantly guiding it back inside herself. Her body trembled as she began to push herself onto the carrot, mimicking your earlier actions. "M-mistress," she whimpered. "Look at you, a dumb bunny."
"Mmmm, yes. I'm your pathetic little toy." She nodded, her face twisted in pure bliss. "You like being stretched out, like a mindless whore?" You teased her. "Oh, yes, it feels amazing, please. Mistress, give me more!" She loudly moaned out.
And more you gave her, as she was mindlessly thrusting the cum drenched carrot in and out of her. You pushed the carrot in the whole way. You grabbed her wrists with one hand. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the carrot pushing against her deepest walls. A moan of pure ecstasy escaped her lips as she felt herself reaching the brink of orgasm.Wanda's body trembled. her eyes were half-closed in pleasure. You roughly grabbed her soft wrist with one hand and restrained them. Grabbing the pink wand from the nightstand. "Push baby."
Wanda's eyes widened in shock as you touched her hyper sensitive clit with the vibrator, almost causing her to lose her state of mind. She grimaced in pain and pleasure as she tried to push the carrot out while also dealing with the intense sensations. Wanda gritted her teeth, tears streaming down her face, as she pushed with all her might., the pleasure to much. But with the vibrator working relentlessly on her poor pink bud, another orgasm apporached fast, sending unbearable pleasure through her. She squirted again, even more powerful. The carrot slid out of her tight pussy with a wet squelching sound. Her screams filling up the room.
Wanda panted heavily, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. Her eyes were still glassy and unfocussed, but she gave you a weak smile. "Thank you, Mistress, that was amazing."
You turned the vibrator of stopping the abuse on her clit ans flipped her over onto her hands and knees, presenting her well-fucked pussy to you. She shuddered, still feeling the aftereffects of your incredibly arousing game. Wanda let out a loud yelp as you pulled on her bunny tail plug. her hole contracting around the smooth surface. "Ah fuck." her voice trailed off into a moan as another tremor passed through her.
when you finished taking out the fluffy plug, a long sting of slick hanged from the metal. Wanda whimpered, trying to ignore the ache in her ass, gaping slightly, begging to be filled again. She looked back at you, her eyes pleading for mercy. Her heart was racing, and she could feel herself getting wet again despite the pain and humiliation. Wanda let out a sharp gasp, her body jerking in surprise. The sensation of your tongue against her sensitive flesh sent shivers down her spine, cleaning up her asshole. She tried to push away from you, but your hands held her in place. Her moans turned into soft pleas for more. "Mistress. Please." She whimpered. "Shh bunny, iam going to switch out your tail colour, what do you want?"
"Baby pink."
You opened the nightstand draw to many tails, different shapes, colours, and sizes. You picked out the pink big one, and she shivered as she felt the coolness of the toy against her stretched opening. She bit her lower lip, trying to contain her groans as you began to push it inside her.
"There bunny all done." You kiss the plump flesh of her asscheek. Her ass clenched around the plug, holding it tightly inside her. She collapsed onto the bed, her body finally giving out. "You did so good. You're a good little bunny." You praised picking her up. "Cage or bed after shower?" You asked.
"Bed." She sleepily whispered out.
You scooped her and kissed her sweet lips. Making your way to the bathroom, starting the first step of aftercare. Ready to spoil your precious bunny.
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fyodorloveclub · 7 months
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PRETTY, PRETTY, PRETTY
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♥︎ pairing: odasaku x pregnant afab reader
♥︎ cw: breeding/pregnancy kink, body worship, creampie, lots of pet names (pretty girl, darling, sweetheart), vaginal sex via spooning, fingering, squirting. 18+ only, minors DNI !!
♥︎ notes: breedtober fic 2! why can i never keep things just short blurbs. love u all
♥︎ wc: 1.7k
want more of breedtober?
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Oda already loved to worship your body. He swore he’d never seen someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you, and knew for a fact he never would. But now that you were pregnant? Holy shit. He could stare at you all day long and still not get enough.
The way your body had softened around the edges, your plush hips and how they had widened to accommodate for the baby, your steadily growing belly, your swollen tits. It’s a cliche, but you truly had that pregnancy glow - and Oda was entranced. Your body was a holy temple, at the feet of which he’d worship every day.
Already late enough into your pregnancy, you had decided to take maternity leave - or rather, Oda very much pushed you to - so you could stay rested and safe before your due date. But with Oda still working full time, it meant you got pretty damn bored. 
It struck Oda as strange when he walked through the door one evening, work bag slung over his shoulder, and didn’t see you on the couch waiting for him like you normally did. You had recently developed a hyperfixation on crocheting, especially plushies and blankets for the baby, yet all of the supplies had been abandoned on the kitchen table. He didn’t think too much of it though, just figured maybe you had gone to the bedroom to take a nap or call your friends or family. 
What Oda was not expecting, was what he actually opened the bedroom door to. 
Back propped up against an army of pillows, you laid completely naked on your shared bed with your legs spread wide, tears slipping down your cheeks as your hefty baby bump kept you from being able to touch yourself. Slick dripped down your thighs and your clit was swollen from how neglected and needy it was, but you just couldn’t reach. Oda's face fell and he rushed to sit by you on the bed.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” he cooed, leaning in to wipe away the tears that continued to flow. He simply felt terrible - not only because you were struggling, but for how much this turned him on.
“Was so horny but you were gone, and now I can’t reach around my bump anymore,” you cried, leaning into the comforting touch of your lover. “I tried… a pillow for a bit but it was too tiring, and 'm too sensitive for the vibrator.” a deep frown had settled onto your face as you explained, burning with humiliation.
“Sweetheart,” your lover frowned, hand resting on the taut skin of your tummy as he tried to ignore the way your words made his cock twitch. Feather light fingertips traced along the stretch marks that adorned your hips, lips turning up into a gentle smile. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
“Shut up,” you mumbled, though you didn’t really mean it - and Oda knows that. 
He moved to position himself between your legs, hands still resting on your stomach. “Can I help you out, baby? Show you just how beautiful I think you are? Hm?”
God, Oda always knew just what to say. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you nodded shyly. “Would you?” you normally weren’t this bashful, but there was just something about him and his presence that made you feel so giddy and… overwhelmed, almost.
“Nothing I'd rather do more, sweetheart,” he smiled. 
He didn’t waste any time either. Gently pressing his hands on your thighs, he spread them out further, marveling at your pussy that was now on full display. Pregnancy hormones had caused the tissues to swell slightly, your lips and clit puffy. 
“You’re fucking beautiful, baby,” he smirked, tracing the slit with his middle finger. Painfully desperate for stimulation, you were already whining. “Need more?”
You nodded frantically. More than happy to oblige, Oda's finger trailed up to play ever so lightly with your clit.
“Right there, right fucking there,” you gasped, keening. the one spot you’d been trying to reach for what felt like hours.
“I know, pretty, I know,” Oda soothed, continuing to rub slow but consistent circles around the hyper sensitive spot. 
Your toes curled and head fell back against the pillows as you got the stimulation you had needed so badly, but Oda was starting to get excited too - the growing hard-on in his pants undeniable proof of it. He’d love to lean in and kiss you, but the round dome of your belly acted as a barrier, so he opted to kiss the skin of it instead.
“So, so pretty,” he mumbled, deciding to slip one finger into your hole - it accepted it easily as you gasped. And you were more than slick and needy enough to welcome a second. His thumb remained on your clit, massaging it as he slowly but thoroughly fucked you with his fingers, occasionally scissoring them to stretch you out. The bulge in his pants only grew as more and more of your essence dripped down his fingers.
“Oda,” you whined, shifting your hips and clenching around his fingers. 
“Feel good?” he prompted as if he didn’t already know the answer. A slight smirk played on his lips as you only mewled and nodded.
In the beginning you had only just wanted to get off, rub your clit just enough for an orgasm or two to quell the aching desire in you, but now that your lover was present and helping you out, you couldn’t help but get greedy. Not when he looked like that, and was doing that. 
“Want more,” you whined, reaching to grip his arm.
“Yeah?” he was fully smirking now. “My pretty, pretty girl wants to be fucked with more than just some fingers?” Oda had never talked this dirty - not until he met you. Your slight nod was all he needed. 
Carefully helping you onto your side, Oda shimmied off his pants and boxers before slotting himself behind you, kissing up your back and shoulders. Spooning wasn’t his favorite position as he couldn’t see you too well, but it was what was most comfortable for you this late in your pregnancy. Even still, he was entranced by you. 
Only a few tugs to his heavy cock was enough before he was ready to give you what you wanted, the head prodding at your hole before slipping inside your needy cunt. Oda grunted as you nearly squealed, fascinated with how easily and quickly he completely bottomed out. Your poor cunt, how long had it been painfully desperate to be filled? 
A large, callused hand comes to rest on the underside of your belly, holding you close to him as he whispered sweet encouraging words into your ear. 
“My beautiful, perfect girl,” he mused, “so gorgeous carrying my baby. Everyone can see that you’re mine.”
It drove Oda absolutely mad every single day to see you waddling down the hallway or struggling to button yet another pair of pants in the morning - proof of your body growing his child. The baby he put in there. And when you walked down the street together, his hand on your lower back, everyone knew that you were his, and what he had done to you. What you had done together. 
His mind was absolutely reeling as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, hand trailing down from your belly back to your clit.
“Oda!” you squealed, hips bucking towards the touch and clumsily throwing your head back against him. Only a soft chuckle left his lips as he continued to touch you and build up a faster pace. 
But now Oda was starting to get a little desperate too. Being gentle, he grabbed your leg by the underside of your knee and hoisted it up to give him better access, allowing for him to thrust a little harder and faster into you. The way he fucked you good and deep had you gasping for air, your hands flailing behind you to try and find him and grab onto him. His thick cock always stretched you out deliciously and hit all the right spots, and with the new angle he was managing to rub against your sweet spot with every single thrust.
“How you feelin’, pretty?” he asked. “The baby okay?”
You nodded fervently, digging your fingers into his arm. “S-so good,” you stuttered, breathless. “Baby’s okay, she’s fine, just- faster, please!” And how could he deny you when you were begging like that?
Hoisting your leg up even higher, Oda fucked into you with purpose. A mix of slick and precum drooled down your thighs and soaked the sheets underneath, the lewd, wet sounds echoing through the bedroom. You moaned and squeezed your sore tits that had swollen considerably since getting pregnant, but also had become much more sensitive. Massaging the soft fat only added to the ecstasy.
The way you were clenching tightly and creaming all over his cock had Oda’s mind short circuiting, and he could feel his high approaching faster and faster.
“Can you come for me, sweetheart?” he cooed, breathing heavily but nibbling lightly on your neck. 
“Please,” you whined.
Angling his hips just right, Oda used the grip he had on you to pull you towards him in tandem with his thrusts, hitting your spot over and over while the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. 
“G-gonna-” You couldn’t even get the words out before moaning loudly and squirting all over Oda. 
He continued to fuck you through your high, chasing his own - with the mess you just made all over him, it wasn’t long at all. 
“Want me to cum in you, pretty? Put another baby in you, yeah?” he panted. 
“Want you- want all your babies, Oda!” you cried out, hissing from overstimulation as he continued to fuck into your sensitive pussy. His hips stuttered before shooting a thick, warm load into you, grunting and groaning as his spent cock spit out the last of it. 
Setting your leg down gently and pulling out, you whined at the sudden emptiness and the way his hot cum oozed out of your hole. Sweet kisses were peppered all over your back and your cheek as Oda pulled you close to his chest, palm spreading out across your baby bump. 
“Can’t wait to give you all my babies, pretty girl,” he smiled, making you giggle softly. “At this rate, gonna keep you pregnant forever.”
And honestly, in your fucked out haze, and with the way he always worshipped you, that didn’t sound too bad.
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inkykeiji · 3 months
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anonymous said: i just wanna sit down on sukuna’s massive thigh. is that so much to ask?? character: ryomen sukuna notes: anon, i want to ride sukuna’s massive thigh so so so badly!!!!! and so of course i had to write something!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, size difference, thigh riding, implied cureless!au, fem!reader, humiliation and degradation, toxic relationship, bit of noncon overstim right at the end words: 1.8k
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It’s custom practice, at this point, that Sukuna places you on his lap whenever he’s engaging in an activity that requires sitting; when he’s working in his office, when he’s in a meeting (because his precious little baby is always with him, no matter what time or place or occasion), when he’s reading, when he’s lounging, when he’s eating. 
It isn’t always in the same position; sometimes you’ll rest against him, your back pressed flush to his chest, one thick arm wound around your waist for stability; sometimes you’ll straddle his massive thigh, your face buried in his neck, lips painting strokes of saliva across his collarbone in messy little pecks, lashes leaving gentle butterfly kisses against his shoulder.
But irregardless of the situation and your posture throughout, if he’s sitting, you are there with him.
It is also customary that you behave while you’re in Daddy’s lap—no fidgeting or squirming, no whining or whispering, no complaints of boredom at all, and no getting down until he releases you. 
So it’s not a shock, exactly, that a low, dark chuckle rumbles beneath his ribs the moment your hips begin to rock—barely anything more than shallow ruts, something that might’ve been mistaken for an innocent restlessness, had he not known better.
But he knows you much too well.
“I thought Daddy had a rule against wiggling, sweetheart.” 
“Can’t help it, Daddy, swear I can’t.”
“Is that so?” he hums, flexing the muscles of his hard, defined thigh between your legs, snorting a little when you gasp. “And why is that?”
“M’horny, Daddy,” you whimper, nuzzling your cheek against the column of his throat. “Don’t wanna bother you, Daddy.” 
“Oh? And what makes you think this isn’t bothersome?” 
It’s not—you know it’s not.
Because as well as your Daddy knows you, you know him, too. 
His four simple rules don’t exist because he can’t concentrate when you’re on his lap—he most definitely can. If there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about Sukuna in the short but intense time you’ve been his, it’s that he retains an exceptional amount of control over himself—body, mind, and soul—and it’s a fact he takes immense pride in. 
Because, sure, Sukuna may live for the pursuit of pleasure, a hedonist in the purest sense, but that doesn’t mean he can’t control himself, his self-discipline and restraint sharper and stronger than a tungsten needle when he wants it to be. 
His four simple rules are all about power. 
Doesn’t mean they’re going to stop you, though.
Your hips are still shifting, cunt pressed flush to his thigh with only a thin layer of lace separating it from his pants, slit sliding along his firm, strong muscles in slow, hard strokes.
“Are you sure one pitiful little orgasm from pathetically humping my thigh is worth it?” 
No, you’re not. One measly clitoral orgasm probably isn’t worth the hefty punishment that’s going to follow, but you’re too sleepy, too needy, to care. 
An indistinct little noise vibrates at the back of your throat, head moving in ambiguous motions, rubbing thick cords of drool across his shoulder, leaving tiny webs shimmering on cashmere.
Your hips roll with more purpose, falling into a steady rhythm of rocking—back and forth, back and forth, smearing your cunt along the sleek muscle between your legs.
It already feels so good, using his thigh to stroke your clit in repetitive motions, the cotton twill of his trousers providing just enough resistance to make the friction delicious, a dull, dense heat flooding the pit of your stomach.
“God, look at you,” he scoffs, a peculiar mix of disgust and devotion saturating his voice. “Trying to fuck my thigh like you’re some sort of animal.”
Exhaling a snort, he jiggles his thigh in accentuation, sneering a little at the choked moan you try so hard to snuff out, pleasure clawing at your tongue.
“I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference to a desperate little slut, does it? My sick little girl will take whatever she can get, won’t she?” 
Your head nods lethargically, smearing your own saliva over your chin.
“Aren’t you embarrassed to be acting like this? So eager, so ardent.”
“Jus’wan’ you, Daddy,” you slur out. 
Because it’s true; you just want him, in any way you can have him. 
Maybe you really are just a dirty, desperate little slut. Maybe it doesn’t matter either way.
“You know, I can feel your slick soaking through my pants,” Sukuna says, lips against the curve of your ear, dark, low voice reverberating against the cartilage—little tremors that snuggle into your flesh, skittering down your spine in a shiver. “It’s fucking disgusting, how wet you are from this.”
It is, he’s right, an obscene amount of arousal already staining his leg—far too much to be decent, to be normal, don’t you think, baby?—the copious amounts of slick making the grind along his strong muscles effortless, lace molded to your drenched folds and soiled all the way through, leaving a large gleaming patch on the material of his trousers, fabrics gliding together easily, aiding in your motions as your humping gains speed.
“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how fucking lewd your cunt is?” 
You do, of course you do, vulgar squelching echoing out among the home office with every buck of your hips, sopping clothes sloshing together, procuring a sick sort of gurgling.
It’s so humiliating, salacious sounds complemented perfectly by his silky laughter, but you can’t stop, movements accelerating to hard, quick gyrations of your hips as you lose the friction of his pants, now too slippery to be anything other than teasing.
His derisive remarks, coated in icing sugar, do nothing to tame the blaze in the pit of your tummy, his voice like kerosene, flames flaring with every word that drips from his mouth.
“You’re so easy, aren’t you? Easy to please, easy to pleasure, all you need is something nice and firm to rub your cunt on, huh?” 
“Feels good, Daddy,” you mumble against his neck with another clumsy nod, words weighted with spit. “Feels s’good.”
“Yeah, I can tell, baby,” he snorts. “Look at how fucking sloppy you are!” 
Leaning back a little in his office chair, he looks down at where you’re conjoined, a soft whine slipping from your lips at the loss of his chest. A thick layer of sheen coats his thigh, turning the charcoal shimmery in the beams of sunset streaming through the windows. His tongue clicks against his teeth in a disapproving tut, as if it’s such a shame that you’ve ruined his trousers so terribly. 
It really is, though, sticky substance having accumulated on his pant leg so much that it’s merely collecting atop the material now, unable to soak any further. You whine again, yearning to bury your scorching face, pricks of humiliation stinging your cheeks.
“I should make you lick it up, honestly,” he muses to himself, humming a little at the prospect. “Such naughty little girls should be made to clean up the messes they make, don’t you agree?” 
Aside from the light notes of beguile infusing his voice, he sounds normal—calm and unaffected—and you’d think him to be, too, if you couldn’t feel his massive cock, hard and straining against expensive slacks, brushing against your thigh with each of circle of your hips. 
It twitches a little with every gentle graze of your body, but Sukuna does nothing to pursue it, nothing to satisfy it or solve the problem, too focused on you to care.
Your arms wind around his neck, bringing him back to you with a discontented little mewl, and he laughs again, going willingly. 
Always so needy. 
You’re really riding his thigh now, vigorous enough that the wheels of his office chair shift against the hardwood, Sukuna planting his feet more resolutely, keeping you both in place, muscles pulled taut with the motion.
Damp little moans seep into the skin of his neck as your hips work, each one pushed from your throat on an airy little gasp, and he can tell that you’re close.
Because that’s so easy, too—you’re so fucking obvious with it, with the way your thighs keep tensing around him, almost as if they’re trying to readjust their grip; squeeze him tighter, hump him harder, siphon his thigh up further, urgently chasing that building high.
That heavy heat is amassing in the pit of your stomach, sinking into your gut as it grows with every swivel of your hips, hotter and hotter, higher and higher until it feels smothering, sweltering, engulfing you from the inside out and weeping through your pores, ragged little pants of his title exhaled from parted lips. 
“You’re such a perverted little girl,” he murmurs in your ear, voice deep and decadent, tinged with just a hint of amusement. “What would everyone think if they knew how sordid that pretty little mind of yours really is? All of your university professors who praised you so much, all of your esteemed colleagues at work, how would they feel to know of your true nature?” 
“They’d be disgusted,” you sigh out, almost dreamily. 
A chuckle rumbles behind his ribs, rubbing his jaw line along your temple in a possessive caress. 
“Yeah, they would. And you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re so sick.” 
“Only for you, Daddy, always for you, Daddy.”
“That’s right,” he purrs, hands finally finding their rightful place on your hips, so massive the tips of his thumbs overlay your ribs. “Now be a good dirty girl for Daddy and make a mess all over his thigh, sweetheart.” 
And that’s all the permission you need, really. 
Oh, it’s so cute, the way your cunt clenches against his sculpted muscles, the way he feels your hole flutter eagerly around nothing as wet, sticky warmth floods his thigh, the way your clit throbs in time with it, pressed tightly to his leg.
You’re whimpering out his name, skin clammy and glittering with sweat, tiny dewdrops beaded along your temples catching in the waning sun rays as you snuggle into his jaw, pliant and languid.
But Daddy isn’t done with you just yet.
The hands on your waist flex, blunt nails carving deep crescents into the flesh—latched onto you, firm and stable, using his grip as leverage to force your hips to keep moving, even as they start to jerk.
A hiss is spit through the gaps of your teeth, sharp and sudden, whole body recoiling from the involuntary overstimulation. Shudders ripple through your flesh in vicious bouts as Sukuna aggressively rubs your sensitive cunt along his leg, pressing his thigh upward and grinding strong, defined muscle into your aching clit. 
“Daddy!” you wail, clinging to him despite the agony, fingers twisting knots in his immaculately pressed dress shirt. “St—ah!—S’too much, it hurts!” 
“Oh, poor baby,” Sukuna pouts, oozing condescension. “You didn’t really think Daddy would just allow you misbehave in such a manner and get off without some sort of punishment, did you?” 
No, you didn’t; of course you didn’t, but—
“Quite stupid, my pretty girl is,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, spikes of ice prickling your spine. “You wanted to ride Daddy’s thigh, so you are going to ride Daddy’s thigh, over and over and over again until your cute lil cunt has been rubbed raw, until Daddy decides it’s enough.” 
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wifeofasith · 4 months
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WARNINGS — Anakin × Fem!Reader, Dom!Anakin × Sub!Reader, ovulation, masturbation, breeding kink, pet names (love, baby), verbal degradation, humiliation, swearing (fuck, slut, cockslut, bitch), oral sex (m), fingering (f), pain kink, impact play (face slapping), manhandling, brief dacryphilia, brief dub-con, drooling, mentions of cum, clit play, creampie.
WORDS — 2.3k
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Imagining Anakin with your own fingers rubbing onto your clit was a nightmare. It was agonizing torture to experience pleasure that was nowhere close to the feeling of his nine-inch cock rubbing against your cervix. Especially now that the moon has shifted and your womb is pulsing with the need for his seed.
Anakin has quite literally ruined you and your body, molded it into its own personal plaything that couldn’t get satisfaction without him. His touch was a remedy for everything —fear, anger, sadness — but it was especially skilled at calming your need to be fucked dumb.
Haunted by the inability to get yourself off and get rid of ovulation cravings in the process, you make your way to Anakin’s home office, where he’s been studying some dull Jedi scrips you had no interest in. The room was dimly lit by a single torchiere, which left a soft cast of light on Anakin’s scrumptious body. Peeking through the partially opened door that he’s purposely left for you, watching the soft frown between his eyebrows and the way his exposed forearms tensed while flipping the papers, you didn’t even notice how your hand slipped past your panties again. The absurdity of the situation was what made your walls clench extra tightly around your amateur digit — so desperate, you had no other choice but to secretly watch your own boyfriend.
Your head partially pressed against the doorframe, one eye peaking and savoring Anakin while your finger messily maneuvered around your clit, you couldn’t believe Anakin was still oblivious to your deed. Especially when your wetness has long ago seeped past your underwear and is now making a pathetic sloshing sound, which only fuels your desire.
“Come here, love.” Anakin’s voice drags you out of your fantasies; he pats his thigh, calling you as if you were a dog. If your hand wasn’t glued to your pussy, you would definitely follow the command instantly.
Even with your brain dumbified by all the hormones, it was quite easy to realize that Anakin indeed had it all figured about your activities. His nonchalant behavior, however, was surprising and not decipherable for your little head.
“Come on, hands off yourself and come, I won’t ask again."
This time, you move. Wiping the remains of yourself on the back of your skirt, you follow the soft light inside the room and display yourself in front of Anakin with pouted lips and a suspicious gleam in your eyes.
Anakin slides the papers aside and turns his chair to face you. Familiar heavy stare of desire filling you with the feeling of inferiority, even if he’s the one sitting below your eye level. He remains mute as he reaches out to dig his fingers into the supple flesh of your thighs.
“Wanna tell me why you’ve been humping every corner of the house the whole fucking day?” He asks as he slides his warm hand across your skin, brushing the very bottom of your ass with his fingertips.
“I’m just—”
“A bitch in heat.” He cuts you off, grabbing your butt-cheek at the same time as the sharp words sting your dignity. “Say it.”
Before you can open your mouth again, his fingers slip past the crotch of your panties, hooking under it and pulling it aside, allowing two metal digits to slide past the brim of your wetness as his other hand is welcomed under your skirt.
“I’m a—AH!” Your knees buck when the cold edges scratch at your walls; not even your pooling arousal relieves the bittersweet tingle.
“What’s wrong?” He asks with a voice of mock pity. “Needy cunt shuts you up, mmm? Can’t speak unless I fuck my cum in you?” His fingers move at a slow but forceful pace, each powerful stroke making you trip over your words.
“A-A-Ani-i-i s-stop!” You grab at his wrist, trying to pause the movement, which only encourages him to create a more agonizing pace.
“What was that? Harder?” He slaps your hand off his, intensifying the pumping into your hole. Creamy juice drips down his wrist as he’s tearing at your insides with an insensitive, artificial touch. And all you’re capable of is whimpering and letting him satisfy his sadistic needs.
Your eyes are clouded with tears of pleasure, yet the limited sight allows you to see the tightness of his pants, covering his hardening shaft from your view. You can’t help but create a mental image, replacing the mechno-fingers with his nine-incher. That’s when your sore pussy finally starts clenching down around him, making the corners of his lips twitch upwards.
When Anakin frees his hand out of your grasp, there is no other response than whimpering at the loss of delight between your legs. He doesn’t acknowledge your desperation. Raising his hips up slightly, he frees himself off his pants, letting them sit midway his thighs. Following the hint, you try to make your way on top of him, climbing into his lap while pushing your skirt up — ready to receive the reward you’ve been craving since eight in the morning.
“What are you doing?” Anakin asks, looking at you with his eyebrows slightly up, an expression of mockery.
You bite your lip, surprised by the sudden change of events. Your eyes bore into his, looking for a sign to proceed before your pussy grows cold.
Anakin smiles at you, seemingly holding in a small chuckle. His hand reaches back for your cunt, but instead of entertaining it further, he gently pats you twice. “Get on your knees.”
Frustrated, you slide your knee off the chair, standing back up between his now spread legs. You give him a needy stare, speechlessly begging for mercy.
“I know that look, baby.” He finally speaks, his fist wrapping around his length to smear the precum over the sensitive skin. “Unfortunately, little sluts don’t get their wombs used, get down." He points to the floor. Hypnotized by the way his hand squeezed the swollen tip with each stroke, you lower yourself.
Wasting no time, Anakin’s hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you into his crotch. Your lips settle at the base under his cock, resting it across your face as you stare at him, glossy eyes blinking in a silent plea. He strokes your hair, admiring the view.
“You wanted it, didn’t you?” The grip tightens, making sure you are locked in a humiliating position.
Without receiving an answer, Anakin guides himself past your lips, sliding in slowly as your throat and walls pulse in unity, one at the stretch and the other at the lack of it. He lets out a satisfied groan as the warmth of your mouth surrounds his painfully swollen dick.
“Fuuuck, what a tight little hole—” He curses, eyes staring up as his eyebrows furrow slightly. If you hadn’t been so depraved of him fucking you properly, you would have enjoyed the sight of his pleasure.
He doesn’t bother to use his hips as his hand guides your head up and down his length, each stroke appearing to be impossibly deeper than the earlier. Suffocating from the tears and salty precum spilling all over you, there is no other choice but to claw at his thighs as you try not to pass out from the intense feeling of your throat being stretched out and adjusted to the size of him.
“You’re fine, take it.” He groans, not switching the pace. He glances down at you, chest rising and falling as he uses you to his heart’s content. The sight of you drooling all over his dick without having a say in it made him feel like a god. He owned you.
Feeling him twitching inside you, you sense the end of your torture is near. As you brace yourself to receive his load, Anakin suddenly slides all the way out.
While your body greedily gasps for air, he tugs on your hair, making your head bend backwards without any remorse for your fucked-out state. His hand reaches up to slap across your cheek, grounding you.
“Now let’s try again. What are you?” He speaks, the same harsh tone making it obvious that he’s not a bit disturbed by his ruined orgasm.
Sniffling the tears away, your lips struggle between his fingers. “I’m a b-bitch in heat—” Your stuttering earns you another slap, followed by the return of the harsh grip.
“Again.” He says, lips in thin line, as he waits for your obedience.
“A bitch in heat!” You repeat it more clearly, trying to satisfy him by fighting the need to cough. Another slap is delivered to the same cheek, this time making you twitch and hiss in pain.
“Yeah? That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Anakin takes more pleasure in abusing your cheek, each strike forcing you to gasp and sob as your head rested inches away from his still throbbing cock. “Stupid cockslut, each month the same thing, your needy cunt begging for cum, need to breed so bad, hm? Say it again.”
“I’m a bitch in heat!” You say loudly, trying to make him stop and finally give you what you actually need.
Anakin seems to be snapped out of his trance by how loud and desperate your voice was. His hands grip your wrists, pulling you up to your feet. He doesn’t speak as he turns you around, bending you over his desk. Rough hand at your neck, pushing your face into the long-forgotten documents, which will soon be stained by your drool and tears.
He yanks your skirt and underwear down with one tug, his own pants sliding a bit lower in the process, allowing him more freedom of movement. Not waiting for your whines, he stuffs your pussy full, thick length splitting you open, fitting perfectly between your soft heat. Anakin’s instantly covered in your arousal, juices wrapping around him, making it easier to slip back inside with each sharp thrust.
“'S what you wanted, huh?” His hands grab your hips, raising you so your legs dangle while he ravages your hole. “What do you say? Let’s shut this tight cunt up for the next nine months.”
Anakin’s words made you spasm rapidly around him. Your body, determined to get knocked up, didn’t even bother to consider what your non-hormonal brain thinks about it, so when he asked the question, you couldn’t help but cry multiple begs about how you need to be filled up. You’ll worry about it later.
“Yeah? Say it again: What was that you wanted me to do to you?” He pounds away his pent-up frustration as you gather enough strength to speak through the quivering of your whole body.
“Ani, please! Need you to— ah! Come inside—!”
Hearing your trembling voice begging to be fucked full, his hips slap against your butt-cheeks with greater force. You feel Anakin’s chest press against your back, the warmth of his skin easing the way your insides bruised in the shape of each vein on his shaft. His moans and grunts of pleasure go straight into your ear in a new-found position. The room is full of lewdness: a wooden floor stained with love juices and spit, desk scratching the wall with each pump of Anakin’s cock, your pussy sloshing around it, struggling to accommodate his size comfortably but taking every inch without a whimper of displeasure.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck— S’ like that, take it, fucking slut!” He swears, grunts mixing with whimpers. The more he curses, the messier and more out of order his thrust becomes, signaling his inevitable release.
His hands snake around you. One finds his way to your clit and instantly begins rubbing it messily, causing your whole body to shake violently. His other arm reaches all the way across your chest to grab on your shoulder from under you, making sure you’re pressed nice and tightly against him with no chance of slipping off his cock until he’s fucked you full of cum.
“Aaaani, don’t stop—!” You beg when the tingle at the very bottom of your tummy seems to be unknotting slowly. Your hands reach to hold onto the one that’s squeezing your shoulder.
“Gonna cum, fuck, fill this pussy up, yeah? Want my cum baby? Yeahhh— Gon’ breed you properly—”
With the last strength left in his body, he proceeds to piston short and hard strokes into you while his fingers work furiously over your clit to bring you to your own pleasure. Anakin’s fingers dig into your skin, forehead leans tightly against the back of your head, his deep groans are mixing with desperate whimpers as his pleasure is reaching its peak.
“C’mon baby, don’t stop squeezing me, that’s it— fUCK, yeah— Baby—!” 
With the last deep moan against your skin, you feel hot ropes of cum shooting all the way inside you, tainting your spongy walls with white. Your own orgasm follows when you feel his cock spasming with release. Curling your toes, your whole lower body trembles against him, unraveling the intense feeling of pleasure deep between your folds. Anakin’s fingers dedicatedly abuse your sweet bundle of nerves until your shaking subsides completely and you grow limp on top of the desk, your feet finally lowering to the ground.
Anakin lays on top of you, still holding you tightly against his chest to prevent your weakened body from sliding down to the floor. Still deep inside you, his entire weight squeezes you in a protective embrace while he’s slowly going soft, basking in the mix of your and his cum. When both of your heavy breathing seem to finally cease, his lips press against the back of your shoulder with a deep sigh.
“Think I fucked the slut out of your cunt for good?”
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jeannineee · 5 months
Text
The Kinks of the Attack on Titan Men
(ft. Levi, Eren, Armin)
a/n: just some headcanons for funsies. working on jjk men too!!
warnings: nsfw below the cut of course. plethora of kinks below. bdsm, d/s dynamics, p in v, oral m and f recieving, praise, humiliation, degradation, the list goes on honestly.
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Levi Ackerman
Listen we know this man is a control freak. Definitely has a thing for power play and having authority in the bedroom
def gets off to you calling him captain/sir. it's just facts i don't make the rules.
Likes when you're nice and obedient for him, but has no issue with reminding you of your place when you decide to be bratty.
probably definitely into breath play. besides loving the way your cheeks flush, the way your walls clench around him when his hand tightens around your throat, he loves the submission in your eyes; the way you go pliant beneath him
levi also enjoys humiliating you. loves the way it flusters you and makes you shy
"so wet for me and i've barely touched you"
"gonna cum already? you're needy tonight."
Eren Jaeger
rough sex!!!
loves biting/marking you (he'll kiss them afterwards), spanking ESPECIALLY
also enjoys bondage!! shibari interests him a lot, seeing the intricate knots pressing against your soft skin
looooves having you on your knees for him, and will def control the pace if you let him
mixes praise and degradation!!
"such a good little slut, taking me so well"
"that's it, pretty. go dumb on my cock."
will also edge you until you cry, and then overstimulate you into a whimpering mess :(((
Armin Arlert
certified pussy eater™
LMFAOO for real though, he is a GIVER. Giving you head is one of his favorite pasttimes. He gets so into it that he has to rut against the bed to get any amount of relief :(
alwaysssss prioritizes your pleasure (but he'll withhold it occasionally)
he just loves hearing you beg for him. he'll taunt you abt it too.
"begging so sweetly, baby. just a little longer."
"oh, you wanna cum? not yet, lovey. doing so good for me."
king of praise. he literally adores you and wants to make sure you know it.
don't let his soft exterior fool you bc he will manhandle you if he wants.
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