#the second part was supposed to be pwp!!

[sluttywoozi]

two thousand words into (boy)friend material part II and they're not even close to naked yet 😩

[boxofthings]

bshsjsksk I've never written smut before so I hope this doesnt read as awkward lmao. (I kinda struggled halfway through so I'm sorry if the quality all of a sudden goes down the drain 🥲 i wrote this very late into the night)

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

NSFW below the cut!

---

The post-mission adrenaline crash hits them hard. As soon as the team had returned to base, a hushed scatter of dragging feet had set the tone of their night.

For Ghost, he's high-strung, left on edge from today's most recent failures. He thinks he can still hear gunfire in the background of the night, and if he closes his eyes and lets his mind wander, he sees the poignant look of fear as the person he reaches for is just a little bit too out of grasp, and their screams etch jagged scars into his brain. 

There's a tension in his bones that vibrates through his nerves, begging for reprieve, and he needs it gone—right now.

That's what makes him seek out the sergeant, finding him lounged against the corridor walls and hurriedly yanking the other into Ghost's quarters, pressing his body up against the door with rough hands and a stormy mind.

The sergeant doesn't protest, only reciprocates with the same ferocity as his lieutenant, filling the quiet with their two desperate breaths and lewd whispers.

"I need you," Ghost had groaned, face buried in the crook of Roach's neck, sinking deep reds onto marred but soft skin. Roach's breath had hitched, and the fingers latched tightly onto the lieutenant had only dug deeper. 

It was all the confirmation Ghost needed before he begins stripping the younger out of his gear. Fast and desperate, like two teenagers at risk of getting caught by their parents, and technically, that wasn't too far from the truth.

His hands move mechanically, and there's a despondency that begins to fizzle into his head as he unclasps each and every clip on Roach's armour till he's just in his standard shirt and pants. There's a heavy cloud over his head that pushes him into that ugly, uncaring side of himself—the part of him that tries to make all the good things in his life meaningless, detached. 

He feels the roughness behind his actions as his hands roam free over the sergeant's body. He feels like he's in a trance, familiar and lifeless, as his mind only chases for the ultimate pleasure that only serves to temporarily halt his turmoil. 

This means nothing, he tells himself.

He expects the same in return—secretly begs for it in his mind so that this can all be just another vapid memory added to the list of casual hook-ups. But when Roach goes to take off his clothing, it's slow and gentle, unlike Ghost's brazen want. Roach moves like they have all the time in the world like this means something—represents more than what their activity depicts on the surface level. And Ghost—he feels disquieted. 

The sergeant is methodical when he takes off Ghost's vest, pausing every so often to look at him and smile. Ghost's heart stutters and the greys in his head recede just a little more.

When it's just his undershirt and pants left, Roach gives him a soft push backwards, seating him down on the edge of his bed.

Ghost's eyes never leave Roach, watching closely like a hawk as the other climbs atop him and firmly grasps his chin, tilting it upwards.

"You think too much," he signs lightly. And before Ghost can respond, confident lips meet his own unprepared ones, and his disordered mind goes quiet.

With his balaclava rolled up to his nose, Roach holds the sides of his face as they kiss like longtime lovers, and there's a fierce burn in his chest that ignites hotter the longer they're connected.

When Roach pulls away, Ghost chases after him, high on the feel of the other's touch. His hands come up to encircle Roach's waist, keeping him firmly close and fervid against himself.

The sergeant's hands come to hold his face again, except instead of leaning in, he stares. His piercing green strikes Ghost immobile, but he recognizes what that look on the other's face means—he's picking him apart, trying to gauge what's going on in Ghost's head.

Ghost tries to avert his gaze, doing so by surging up, trying to capture Roach's lips once again, but Roach sees the action for what it is and pulls away, keeping his hold strong on Ghost. It forces him to look directly at the other.

"Are you ok?" he whispers, and it's soft—so gentle that a hard wall inside of him cracks just a little. Roach's face conveys one of searching concern, and Ghost feels pinned, flayed open at the mercy of those eyes.

He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head stiffly as his hands dig deeper into Roach's hips.

"I just-" he croaks, "I just need you."

Roach's eyes narrow, and Ghost lets a sliver of vulnerability slip through the cracks—just a tiny push. "Please," he whispers, and he can see in real-time how Roach's expression falls, a sad smile pulling meekly onto his mouth, and he nods.

Ghost kisses him—hard. This is familiar. If he's in control, he can't let those lingering terrors plague his thoughts. The sooner he can get this going, the sooner he can distract himself. He thrusts up into Roach, feeling the heat of the other on top of him, and the younger groans into the kiss as the two grind against each other, needy and fervent.

Hands push down squarely on his chest until he's forced to lay back. When he looks forward to Roach, the other smiles warmly and begins to work at his zipper. 

"Let me take care of you." 

And it takes everything in Ghost not to crumble at those words.

Roach palms at his erection, still confined in his boxers, and Ghost wants to kick him.

"Stop teasing."

He's met with a cheeky grin. "Stop teasing?" the other signs demurely. "You mean like this?" 

A warm hand suddenly grasps his length, and Ghost's breath hitches, making the humour in Roach's gaze grow.

"Oh, piss off you-"

The hand tightens, stroking confidently up and down, melting the words on Ghost's tongue immediately. 

Bastard.

It's been a while since they've done this. Missions have become more frequent and dire as the war rages on, and Ghost hasn't gotten a chance to get laid—to expel the stress.

He wants to say that's the reason why his stomach swoops so violently as the sergeant slowly takes him into his mouth, gaze never leaving Ghost's as he swallows him deeper.

God, he can't deny it; Roach knows how to take him apart. His eyes make Ghost feel like pinned-down prey as he sensually swirls his tongue around the tip.

His hand reaches to grasp at Roach's hair, keeping the sergeant in place, but Roach only dips lower, expertly sucking him off at a rhythmic pace that punches deep groans out of Ghost.

He bucks his hips upwards as Roach meets him halfway, setting an exhilarating pace that forces Ghost to concentrate on not finishing right into the sergeant's mouth. He wants this night to last.

He pulls Roach off his cock, leaving a string of saliva that Ghost immediately swipes across the other's lips. It makes the heat inside of him grow.

"Get on the bed."

Roach wastes zero time obeying, laying across the same spot that Ghost had previously occupied.

Shedding his cargos, he grabs the lube on the bedside table, fully seating himself between Roach's now bare legs as he drenches his fingers.

As he circles Roach's entrance, he leans forward, waiting for the exact moment the other's mouth hangs open as his finger breaches into heat, capturing lips in a hungry kiss, and Roach leans into it enthusiastically. 

He adds another digit, awaiting for the stuttered breathing that will follow, and he curls his fingers, watching closely as Roach's back arches off the bed like a puppet.

The other scoffs, locks of hair falling in front of his eyes. Ghost wants to brush them away.

"Now, who's teasing."

A smile pulls at his face as he adds a third, and he revels in knowing that he's the one wringing those noises, those expressions out of Roach—revels in knowing he's the only one who knows how to make the other feel this good.

When Ghost pulls out, moving to lube himself up, Roach's hands come to press on his shoulders, a leg coming up to hook around his middle, effectively flipping their positions in a swift and practiced maneuver.

With Roach on top, he can see the smugness that paints his features, a nimble hand caressing up his torso to sit at his chest.

"I said I'd take care of you," Roach leans down to whisper low in his ear before Ghost can protest, and a shiver runs down his spine, pooling arousal at the base of his cock.

The sergeant takes him in hand and, just like before, never moves his sights from the lieutenant's face as he guides the head of his cock to his entrance, sinking slowly down until Ghost is fully sheathed inside of him.

Their combined groans mingle together into heavy breaths. 

Ghost's hands climb to grip hard at Roach's hips. A choked moan threatens to spill once the sergeant begins moving, his heat all-encapsulating and enticing.

He sits up so he can better hold Roach in his lap, roaming hands gripping tight on the back of the sergeant's shirt. He pushes his hips upwards, setting a brutal pace and eliciting a series of gasps that only encourage him to move faster.

He wants to lose himself in this. Be buried inside this warmth forever, anything to take him away from the battles he'll be thrown back into once he leaves this room.

He scrunches his eyes shut, trying to focus only on the building pressure below. But despite his efforts, the storm cloud slowly creeps back into the cracks of his brain, along with the distant screams that follow with it. Eyes too young to display such fear watch him from the depths of his mind, and suddenly, Ghost can't get it out.

Two taps to his shoulder.

His eyes fling open, thrusts halting immediately. 

The concern is back, more intense than before.

"What's wrong?"

Ghost inhales, taking in how genuinely worried the sergeant looks—how quickly he had noticed Ghost's inner turmoil.

"I-" he swallows, words weighing like bricks in his throat.

He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to even spare a grain of space in his mind for images that will spiral him deep into disruption. It's why he'd even sought out the sergeant in the first place. This was just supposed to be another meaningless fuck.

But a part of him knew it wasn't going to be so easy, not with Roach. Not with someone who takes one glance at him, mask and all, and immediately knows which weak points to aim for to leave him an exposed, vulnerable mess.

He supposes he should've known this would happen—wonders if, deep in his subconscious, he had hoped for something more to come out of this.

Fingers gently grasp his hand, lifting it slowly, hesitantly, as if Ghost would run at the slightest hint of comfort.

Soft lips come to kiss at his knuckles, one by one, and it's so—kind. The contrast between Roach's lips and the scars that run down Ghost's hand feels undeserving, like such good things are ought to be for people like him.

"When people grow up in ugly homes, they can only assume everything in the world is ugly, including themselves."

It was something Roach had said to him offhandedly after a particular deployment. Although back then, Ghost hadn't understood where it came from. 

He'd thought it had something to do with the mission they had just returned from. One that—similarly to today's—had left the task force a shaken crowd of solemn faces.

He remembers it clear as day. He and Roach had been the first at the scene, gazing upon the aftermath of what could only be described as a brutal execution—one that left an innocent family limp at their feet, like bloody ragdolls.

The sole survivor, a boy no older than twelve, had sat at the centre of it all, looking no more alive than the ashen bodies surrounding his small frame.

It was a disturbingly familiar sight, and Ghost had left that mission quieter than usual.

Now, though, he thinks he knows why Roach had said it. It's for the same reason why Ghost was thinking of such a phrase at a time like this—for comfort, reassurance.

Roach had recognized then how that mission had messed with Ghost's head, just as he recognized how today's mission had messed with him further.

Ghost takes a deep breath, calming the violent sea in his mind. 

"Sorry," he breathes out, looking Roach square in the eyes with what he hopes is a genuine, small smile. "Just all up in my head."

Roach's thumb swipes back and forth at the palm of Ghost's hand—a grounding sensation despite how miniscule it is. A small smile reflects back on his face, a wisp of a concession.

We'll talk about this after.

Ghost rolls them over so that Roach is now under him. By the look of exasperation, the other had probably been expecting this. 

"This is a two-way tango, bug. Let me return the favour."

There's enthusiasm in the arms that drape around his neck, and Ghost begins to pick up where they left off.

With Roach laid under him, Ghost's fingers crawl up his stomach to lift off the other's shirt, exposing him fully to the lieutenant. In response, Roach tugs at Ghost's own shirt, a challenging glint in his eye that Ghost readily accepts, leaving the two fully bare for each other.

Ghost is gentler this time when he pushes back in, making sure not to be as rough as he was before. Roach takes him in easily, whining softly as Ghost's hips snap to hit that sweet spot. It shouldn't affect him how well they fit together, and not just in bed, but in a warzone, too.

He tries not to let his thoughts wander again, and instead, thinks of Roach—Roach and how he's splayed underneath him, how his touches feel like they burn the skin off his flesh, how even without a voice, his words stick in Ghost's mind like unwilling tattoos.

-- -- --

"You think all these terrible things that have happened to you define who you are. They don't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you."

In the haze of pleasurable bliss, a thought weighs sudden and heart-stuttering. 

I love him.

He loves him.

And it's more than just the sex. It's the way those brown curls splay out on the bed like a halo—the same curls he'd run his fingers through countless times during leisure hours. It's the kiss-swollen lips that smile warmly at him every morning at breakfast. It's the strong arms currently wrapped around his neck that aid him in battle with their assured grip and expertise and the fingers that softly grasp Ghost's own when they have fleeting moments of tenderness on the battlefield. It's the way that when Ghost looks at the man before him, there's a part of him deep down that knows what this is, a part of him that thinks of green eyes and gentle smiles, and he wants.

He stares down at Roach, beautiful and wrecked and gazes at the scars that embroider his person. Ghost traces his fingers softly on the large gash decorating the left hip. An ugly knife wound, he remembers. He helped stitch that one. The mark beside that one—a bullet not fully penetrated, but Ghost had been there when the shot had hit its mark, and it had terrified him at that moment.

The arms around him release, and then hands come to rest delicately on his face. Green eyes watch him, glassy from their intimate activity but strong in their tender gaze.

This is so much different than his usual hook-ups—the rough, quick-fucks he'd indulge himself in over the years as a way of forcing out the accumulative tension from his stressful lifestyle. But when he's with Roach, it's gentle, it's slow, and, dare he say it, loving. Ghost can't help himself as his hips slow to a stop, and his eyes move towards Roach's face.

His hand grabs recklessly at his mask, pulling it off with a haste he hasn't felt in a long time.

Roach's eyes widen. His partner's desperate pants have halted as well, and he looks straight up at Ghost, gaze shocked with an underlayer of hope.

"I love you."

Ghost feels nervous in his own skin, uncharted emotion rubbing hotly inside his chest, foreign and wild. But Gary inches his face closer, and immediately, those biting fears dissipate, leaving his mind completely once Gary pulls their lips together in a tender kiss. 

It's the sweetest he's ever had. Completely unlike the past frustratingly-charged snogs he'd shared with past willing fucks.

When they break apart, Gary looks high, pupils blown wide, and lips a swollen red. Ghost suspects he doesn't look much different. 

"I love you, Simon," he whispers, awed.

And the sharp zing of warmth shoots straight down to his groin, where they're still connected, and he groans. 

The legs wrapped around his middle squeeze tighter, and Ghost understands, picking up where he left off and speeding up his pace once more.

Roach's head falls back, eyes squeezed shut as Ghost drives them closer to the edge. 

His heart stutters as he watches Roach closely. He wants this, he wants more, he wants—

A hand on his heart.

"You think too much."

Ghost exhales, watching Roach closely, watching every minute change in expression. He notices how his breathing hitches when Ghost hits that sweet spot, notices how the other likes it when Ghost strokes his hair, notices how his nose scrunches up when he's concentrating on something hard. 

It's not just sex. He knows all the little details about Roach without even having to look. Like when the other taps his pencil on his right thigh but only on the right, like when Roach drinks hot tea and always blows twice before taking a sip, like how there are calluses on his index and middle finger on his dominant hand from writing in his journal, and one on his left index from handling his gun.

I'm thinking about you.

But Ghost doesn't say it out loud; only aims to show what his mind yearns to spill.

He intertwines his hand with Roach's and kisses him feverishly as his hips pull sweet gasps out of Roach's mouth.

He's getting close. Ghost can feel it as Roach clenches tighter around him, and it takes everything in him not to let go right now.

No, he wants to watch Roach spill over the edge first; wants to watch the other fall into the pleasurable bliss brought by Ghost's own doing.

"Come for me, bug," he whispers lowly, and he knows that's all it'll take.

There's a final, strangled whimper before the other spasms and arches beneath him, eyes rolling back as he rides through his orgasm, shaky breaths filling the silence of the room. Ghost drinks in every bit of the sight before him, fuelling his own chase towards the end.

A hand roams his face. The affection on Roach's face is so overwhelming it gives him butterflies.

"Beautiful," Roach mouths.

And Ghost groans as his own orgasm overtakes him, unloading into Roach. Their collective moans are cut short when Roach goes in for one more kiss as Ghost basks in the aftermath of his climax.

This could have never been a casual hook-up, not with Roach. Even with all the past times they've done this, it'd only served to make Ghost hungrier each time for something more. 

It was just unfortunate a mental spiral was what pushed him to spit it out.

Now, as the two of them lay together in bed, Roach softly carding fingers through Ghost's hair, he can only think of what a fool he was for assuming he could prolong those hidden desires in his chest. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

They'd hastily cleaned up the mess they'd made and thrown on simple clothes, with Roach borrowing one of Ghost's shirts.

It feels oddly domestic, and despite his earlier confession, Ghost can't help but feel scared. 

"Sorry," he swallows, "if I hurt you earlier."

He's deflecting—just a little bit. He knows they have to talk about it, but he wants to sit inside this safe threshold just a little longer.

Beside him, Roach shakes his head.

"You didn't hurt me," he reassures, letting a minute grin slip through, "it's not like you haven't been rougher in the past."

Ghost huffs, his own lips betraying amusement, but he averts Roach's eyes and looks to the ceiling.

He can't keep holding it all in; feels like he at least owes it to Roach—attentive and caring, Roach—what was bothering him.

"It was the girl."

It's not a question, so Roach must've been sure that was it. 

As usual, he was right.

"I was so close." He was. He was right there at the edge of the window. If he'd just been a little quicker–

"It's not your fault, Simon."

He can't help but sigh. He knows that. But there's a part of him, the irrational shadow of himself that looks suspiciously like a little boy, curses him for his incompetence. 

And it's not just the blame; it's the principle of his role as a soldier. If he can't save one little girl, what good is he? 

To serve and protect. If he can't even do that for a stranger, how does he expect to do it for the people he cares about?

In the dim light, he can just make out the grim line of Roach's mouth.

There's nothing the other can really say to make this all better. Regardless of everything, Ghost’s mind will always remain a wasteland of accusatory what-ifs. But-

"I...I meant what I said, though. Earlier."

And even with the sombre fog set over his mind, Roach's smile still manages to make it all just a little more bearable.

"Me, too."

He's scared. There's another reason why his failure today hit him so viscerally. When he stares back at Roach, he feels the phantom fear that imprints like a shadow behind his eyelids, with green eyes that fall into an abyss Ghost isn't fast enough to reach for.

It could be him one day that you don't catch, his ugly thoughts say.

But before he can further fuel those anxieties, Roach pulls him close, resting Ghost's head under his chin.

"You think too much," he mutters, running his fingers through Ghost's hair.

Ghost sighs, closing his eyes and leaning further into the embrace. He feels—safe.

Trust Roach to soften the blows of everything horrible in his life. 

There are more things to say, more things they need to establish with this newfound step in their relationship, more fears that Ghost needs to acknowledge head-on.

But for now, he's happy to stay like this, in the arms of someone he knows he can trust.

Tomorrow, they’ll leave the safety of this room and be thrown back into the uncertainty of their fragile lives; however, the other side of his door no longer feels so daunting, not when he has this.

As his mind drifts slowly away into the lulling arms of sleep, he feels Roach hold him tighter.

"One day," Roach begins to whisper, and it's soft—wishful-sounding, "I hope you'll be able to accept that you're more than just your shortcomings, like how I see you."

For the first of many nights, his mind is at peace.

[screampied]

#WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? t. fushiguro

☆ sum. you know girl, usually when someone’s about to get stabbed, they scream—not moan. ghostface is supposed to be scary, intimidating, terrifying. but what happens when he’s tall, hot, and has a scar that runs down the right side of his lip? maybe his motive this time was to make you scream out his name in another way. welcome to act three.

wc. 7.0k

warnings. fem! reader, ghostface!toji, pwp, roleplay, unprotected, slight dacryphīlia, glove / mask kink, scream spoilers + references, dumbification, knīfe play, biting, he's crazy but your pússy's crazier, fīngering, riding his face mask, hair pulling, first time squīrt, cunnīlingus, pússy drunk toji, spīt, praise, dirty talk, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist.

“now girl, what the fuck was that,” a husky voice that sounds a bit muffled murmurs out to you. you’re laid on the ground, quite literally seeing the life flash before your eyes as the edge of his jagged knife glimmers against the ceiling light. peeking one open, you’re met with the covered soulless eyes of an infamous ghostface mask, and he’s tilting his head at you. “did i hear ya right?”

as he hovers over you, you speak in a breathy voice. growing sheepish, you glance away. “um, hear what?”

“you moaned, doll,” he replies, and the cottony flaps of his costume brush against your skin the closer he gets. as the coolly aerating air turns dead silent for a few moments, you could hear the sounds of his irregular breaths – deep sinister breaths . . and for some reason, it makes your thighs clench, and not in fear. “right as i said i was gonna gut ya like a fish,” and your own breathing hitched once his gloved finger strokes down your lip. “and i put the knife riiiiiight down here,” he slowly drags the prop down your nearly torn top, “you moaned right as i was about to strike. why?”

“i think . . you’re hearing things,” you rub the back of your neck, but you left off yet another moan the second he slides a knee between your legs.

“nah,” the masked man jibes, and it’s as if he’s staring right through your clothes. with a gloved hand he pulls up his mask, only showing part of his face. he pulls it down inches below his nose as you glance at his scarred lips that show. “think i heard quite well, princess,” and he slowly grazes the soft end of the knife further and further down your skin. “besides, like i said earlier. . i wanna play a game—and we can start with me asking,” and he pauses, leaning up close to your shell of your ear, warm breath tickling against your lobe. “you’re not wearing panties right now, are ya, princess?”

right at his words—your thighs stuck together and you felt a shiver run down your spine. it’s cold, and it made your eyebrow twitch at how insanely turned on you were.

usually, most people would scream or run—hell, even fight back. but it’s different when it’s you.

as he continued to straddle over you, you could have sworn you saw this movie before. .

and now, here you were—helpless indeed and on the floor as he hovers his weight over you, waving a his knife—(a knife that looks like a sort of cheap knockoff version of the one michael myers walks around with) in your face while his other hand mockingly cups your cheek.

“and if i’m not?” you mumble, fixating your eyes solely on the hole parts that shield his eyes.

it’s like you were staring at empty black voids, and no matter how hard you squinted – you just couldn’t see him at all. all you could make out was white and black plastic mask, and as he tilts his head again, he’s returning the gaze. fuck, each time he head tilts and cocks his head to a certain degree—it’s like he’s challenging you, taunting you even, and you’d constantly feel your thighs squeeze together tighter and tighter.

“ah, well,” he thinks for a moment, feeling his covered eyes bore at your body. in his mind, you looked so pretty sprawled all out and underneath him. with your chest heaving in and out as he continues to strum his gloved fingers down your exposed skin, he hums.

“maybe i’d just have ‘ta take a look for myself,” and your breath hitches again once he slowly drags the whetted edge of the knife down your polka dot blouse. with a loud tearing ‘shiiiiek’, a few of your buttons go loose as he’s easily dividing through the fabric with the blade. “cute, i’m assuming you’re not wearin’ a bra either,” and you felt yourself throb the moment he pauses his hands, staring at your perked tits. “phew,” he whistles, giving your pretty physique a nice three second stare. “nice rack.”

“you . . aren’t gonna—”

“—what, kill ya? oh, no doll. now that wouldn’t be fun,” he purrs, finishing your sentence.

it was almost embarrassing at how your body responded to him. you didn’t just wanted more, you craved it. staring right back at you were those same dark holes of a mask that you desperately wanted to see his true identity.

just who was he?

but judging from his voice though, it was a raspy low. . somewhat sounding of a way of smoker would speak. the voice sounded a bit older and of course—he had the body shape of a fucking tank.

as he lets off a low sigh, he shrugs his broad shoulders. “you’re too pretty for that. besides, i’m hard ‘n that little moan you did nearly ruined me if i’m bein’ honest.”

as a small impish smile forms against your glossed pursed lips, your nerves lessen. you stare up at the man before exhaling slight sudden relief. so you were gonna be in the sequel, score.

“so . . . what, is this the part where i’m supposed to beg for my life, mr. ghostface?” you had nothing really to lose, so why not play around with him for a bit – reverse psychology.

“actually,” he clicks his tongue, swiping a thumb down the keen edge of his dagger. it’s an eerie dead pause that whistles in the air once his gloved hands brush against your skin before he continues.

“this would be the part where you scream,” and as he presses his mask all the way against face, he’s so close that you get a glimpse of his scarred lips that poke underneath the cover. “but fuck it. since y’er not scared yet, guess i’ll have ‘ta get that heart racin’ one way or another.”

and toji—who was apparently his name, does this in no other way but propping himself right between your legs.

long story short, everything escalated quickly. so quickly that one minute you were on the floor quote and quote “fearing” for your life and the next . . ? you find yourself being tossed on your velveteen cushioned sofa, voluntarily spreading your legs out for him like some slut out of a cheesy predictable horror movie.

if you were being completely honest, the real killer was his tongue . . because for the life of you, you just couldn’t get over how sloppy he moved it in different directions.

toji kept his mask on the entire time, but it’s pulled up just a tad bit to where you’re only getting a tiny glimpse of the lower part of his face. the fabric just barely shields the bottom part of his nose as his scarred thin lips press their way against your sopping folds.

“fuuuck,” you’d whimper, preferring this over death any day.

right away, you spot the scar that slashes straight down the right side of his lip and it’s a small but attractive feature. every few seconds, he’d purposely smear that part of his mouth against your cunt, earning out a candied ‘ooh!’ from you. within seconds, your numbed thighs were already starting to stick together – like glue.

letting off a sharp drawn out gasp, you glance near your nightstand and the alarm that sits above it. the time was a quarter past two . . and well, some would ask how you’d even get yourself in this situation.

truth is, you didn’t really know either but you damn sure weren’t exactly complaining either. toji found you a bit strange though.

usually people would run from him but you . . you moaned right as you were about to meet your maker. weird, and he’s heard countless screams but never once like yours. that’s kind of because yours wasn’t even a scream, it was a literal moan.

and he wanted to hear more and more of it.

it intrigued him – you intrigued him, and he sort of wants to make you scream in a whole other way though, especially since he’s got you right where he wants. sprawled all out, legs fucking spread . .

“do you . . have to keep this stupid thing on?” you breathlessly grouse, a cute pout curling against your lips as your hands grab the top of his head.

it sort of irked you how he kept his ghostface mask on the entire duration he’s positioned between your legs. with a tight grip, you yank him forward and he groans against your cunt. toji peppers sloppy kisses against your pudgy folds before staring up at you, a faint smirk twisting against his own lips. huffing out an annoyed exhale, you grump. “ ‘s not like ‘m gonna turn you in or anything. i never even found ghostface scary anywa—”

toji snickers. “yeahhh, right,” and you shiver, watching with low hooded eyes as he gathers a glossy string of spit in his mouth.

as your legs quivered from the single grip of one of his hands, he spits right on your teary pussy, watching the lustrous trail of slime drag down his chin. “i’ll think about it,” and he laps his own mess right up, dexterously creating nasty slosh sounds with his exaggerated smacking lips.

with a teasing pat of his gloved hand, he smears the slick puddle that rests on your entrance before humming. “cute, seems like y’er pussy’s tryna seduce me though.”

you let off a whimper, not knowing how long your legs could remain open as he’s toying with your clit. fat clothed fingers drag their way down your slobbering cunt, drawing various circles and shapes around your knobbling nub as a breath snatches from your full lungs. “s- shit, spit on it ‘s more,” you’d weep, feeling your own lips part into a curling ‘o’ shape as you’re in carnal awe.

“now, doll,” he’d whisper against your folds, slurping you clean and savoring the taste of your bittersweet fervor on his tongue.

toji brings two thick fingers toward the outer part of your clit before it slowly starts to disappear inside. it’s like a magic trick — you watch them slowly disintegrate inside of your sopping cunt and you whimper, feeling them curl their ways inside.

as he’s preparing to pump both digits inside, your tummy caves in and you let off a sweet moan the second his long digits start to scissor inside of you. “since ‘m gonna spare ya, i think it’s time we set some ground rules,” and as his hot breath continues to fan against your twitching sex—your grip tightens near the top part of his mask. “don’t tell me how to eat, yeah?”

a timid whimper was your response and you watch how his lips carve into a haughty smile. with a second thought, toji spanks your cunt and he hums, hearing the wet back-talking chatter of squelches leave from your pussy.

as you’re twitching and pulsating from the tender stimulation—you feel him starting to lay his long tongue flat. starting from bottom to top, he eats out your cunt as if it was served to him on a silver fucking platter. “afraid ‘m gonna need an answer, little girl.”

“y- yes,” you let off a soft shrilling gasp, feeling his callused fingertips prod deep inside your gummy clenching walls. toji’s gloved digits felt scorchingly warm inside you, and with just a swift motion, he twirls them ‘round and ‘round, barreling each long inch inside of your pretty pussy.

god, if his fingers were this long, you only imagined imagined what his dick would feel like. the feeling alone made your stomach flutter uncontrollably as your teeth sink into the skin coating your bottom lip.

this was bad, this was really really bad . .

you were probably breaking every cliche horror movie rule in the book . . or in this case, the script. you were supposed to run, not open your legs. but, what’s the saying? you only live once, and that’s if you survive his tongue.

toji was ruthless.

his head moves back and forth as he munched on your pussy, playfully nipping the pearly edges teeth against your clit. each time he does that, you’re sensitive and you whine out a sweet battle cry, rutting your hips further into his greedy slick mouth. your legs nearly suffocated him but he didn’t care, and each long stripe that he creates with his sticky tongue earns out a bundle of whiny whimpers from you.

you had no panties on, and he was basically eating you out with nothing but a skirt that’s pulled up toward your waist—clinging against your jerking, active hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you abruptly gasp, feeling your legs already starting to weaken.

by this point, he’s not even eating your pussy anymore, he’s damn near making out with it. toji’s making out with your pussy – with tongue, and lots lots of it.

he’s creating darting motions with the pointed tip of his tongue, barely batting a single lash of an eye that his chin’s starting to glimmer with sheeny slick. your sheeny slick. as you occasionally look down, you only see that same part of his face that’s shown—but it makes you throb regardless, just imagining just what he really looked like.

you knew he was tall—that much was apparent, a strong burly build and a cocky persona to match.

“yeah? give it to me then,” he interrupts your thoughts as a wolffish grin spreads across his lips like butter.

toji’s thick fingers resume to mercilessly plummet in and out of you and he feels his jaw locking. your taste—he couldn’t get enough of it, and pretty soon he’s the epitome of pussy drunk.

you tasted so sweet, and you let off a whimper once he pulls up his mask just a little bit further. “heh,” he huffs out, and he stops it just at the hem of his button shaped nose. as that same wry smirk compresses against his lips, you spot his dimples stretching out near the corners. leaning all the way in, toji gives your cunt a three second sniff before cupping his lips over your pulsating cunt. “mmph—actually, hold on doll.”

as you’re panting heavily, a look of confusion marinates against your features once you watch him prepare to take off his mask. with a bubbly ‘pop’, toji slowly slides his fingers out of you before glancing at your impatient face.

“ah ah, close ‘em,” he clicks his tongue, watching your pretty clit twitch at his demand.

you pout, feeling a brief sting as you’re being delayed of your long awaited release. with a cute sigh, you place a hand over eyes, your vision turning completely dark. “good girl . . now,” he huffs lowly, and you hear a bit of shuffling. toji sits you up and you feel something place underneath your legs. his voice was close, and it sounds like he’s near the side of you. “cum on my mask, pretty girl. can ya do that for me?”

“uh, okay,” you shakily reply, feeling him prop up your hips to sit right up against the ghostly mouth part. it’s eerily carved into a long hanging oval shape and you moan—feeling how warm it was from the front. it makes you pulse, knowing that his mouth was just behind that exact spot a few seconds ago.

even though your eyes were still covered with your own hand, you feel a daunting chill run down your spine yet again, sensing his cold haunting presence.

whoever he was, he was watching you right now, get off . . on his mask.

you let off a quiet moan as your hips started to rut against the propped plastic. you were drenched, and a bit of slick sticks down against your thighs.

toji feels his dick strain in his ripped jeans as he openly stares like a stalker — pretty, you looked so pretty like this. grinding your sweet cunt against the mask he wears on a daily. now that he thinks about it, it’d be a pretty good souvenir.

“touch yourself too,” he’d rasp, kneeling down closer to you. toji gets behind you, and you whimper once you feel the frigid edge of his knife slowly drag down your skin. he starts a trail, and he’s safe surprisingly—making sure to not nip your skin, but it’s close enough to where you feel the coldness of the steel.

as your needy whines pitch louder, you find yourself now guiding a hand near your bouncing breasts. a bit of the ripped fabric of your blouse runs against your fingertips and toji feels himself getting more hard just watching you. “yeah, baby. that’s it. get my fuckin’ mask wet so i can taste it after.”

“tojiiii, ‘m cumming—fuck,” and as he’s got one of his own hands grabbing onto your left tit, you end up finishing.

you’re cutely hysterical, creaming all on the mouth part of his mask as shame swells in your chest. “ngh, fuck fuck.” you babble, your thighs submitting defeat as he pulls you back against his chest. it felt hard, and you couldn’t help but imagine how built he probably was.

toji presses a cold kiss near the left side of your neck. his frigid lips makes you whimper as your head tilts to the left.

his touch . . you only wanted more, and he could tell from the way that the hand that was at first cupping your breast now starts to reach toward his wrist. “atta girl,” he whispers, and right as you were about to remove your other hand off your eyes, he places his own back over your face. “nice try, sweetheart. gotta be patient.”

you continue to pout, and toji slides the drenched front part of his mask from underneath your legs and brings it up to his lips. “mhm, would ya look at that,” and as you’re panting on his chest, still frantic from your recent orgasm, you hear him cleaning it off with his tongue.

he trails his tongue to where your cunt sat against the mouth part, lapping it up and relishes in your sweet taste entirely. “fuck, sweetest thing i’ve had in a while.”

you dig your nails into his thigh as you’re trying to get over your high, speaking in a needy voice.

“t.. toji,” and he finds it cute how you’re speaking through gritted teeth. he could tell you were annoyed with him, how you weren’t fond of his teasing at all.

“hm, what is it?” he replies, giving his mask a satisfied glance once he finishes. it shines in the dim light—and he licks his lips as the right side of his mouth twitches into a devious simper.

“can . . can i have a kiss?” and the words came out of your mouth oh so sweetly.

you don’t know what came over you, but your body was just fed up. something was screaming at you, hollering at you to get a taste. you throbbed, secretly yearning to feel his lips crash on yours. the entire time he was buried between your legs, it was all you thought about, constantly.

toji hums, tilting his head as he faces you. “a kiss, huh?” and he’s still got a hand covering your eyes.

he ponders about it for a while before a low guffaw leaves from his thin lips. “aw, you want a taste of yourself too, don’t you dirty girl?” and once you shamelessly nod in response, toji’s shoulders drop. “fine, you’ll get that kiss. c’mere,”

and you could feel him inching closer and closer closer. toji’s cologne was loud—it’s a manly musk of what you think was rosemary and cedarwood.

it practically blinds the insides of your flared nostrils the more he closes the awkward distance between you both. your cunt’s pulses start to quicken before he’s merely just inches away from your lips now. “stupid, stupid girl,” he pulls your bottom lip down with a gloved finger, and that’s when he stares at your pretty plump lips before whispering. “beg me.”

“i’m not gonna—”

“no beg, no fuckin’ kiss,” he cuts you off, and you grumble. it was almost embarrassing at how your pussy gave away your true dirty feelings. you continued to twitch, and you let off a defeated sigh once his smears a thumb over your wet lips.

“please . . please, kiss me,” and as you speak, he continues to softly caress the curvature of your mouth. you could hear him breathing from behind the mask. it was short raspy breaths and what would usually frighten most people, turned you on.

toji runs a hand through his jet black tresses before a cunning smirk pierces the corners of his lips. “that’s more like it,” and his lips were almost touching yours – almost, a mere breath away.

you could never get over how deep his voice. it’s as if he didn’t need a voice changer like the ones they’d always use in the movies. his was naturally just as gritty, just as husky.

“obedient . . good,” and as he playfully licks near your bottom lip, toji grunts, “mouth, open.”

you moan, feeling his hand reach between your legs, squeezing your pussy. once your lips part and your mouth opens, toji spits right inside, staring as your cute tongue tries to catch it all.

it’s quick, and before you knew it – his lips hurriedly crash onto yours. within seconds, teeth starts to clash amongst each other and you helplessly whine in his mouth. this, this was what you wanted. a kiss.

one gloved hand of his remains covered over your eyes whilst another snakes its way between your legs. toji’s rubbing against your cunt, feeling your cute hips grind against him as you try to squirm and writhe. you were still so tender. his mouth was cold, and you can’t help but moan at the literal taste of yourself washing back against your tongue.

you feel his scar that slants down the right side of his lip rub off against your lips and his lips curve into a sly smirk. “nasty girl,” he murmurs between hot kisses, and you gasp once he starts to maneuver quicker circles against your cunt.

you were soaked already, still sensitive from your recent release but that’s when he lies you back down. as you fall down on the sofa, toji deepens the kiss for a few extra seconds, abruptly pulling away. a pretty decorated string of glittery saliva tugs away from both lips and he wipes your wet mouth, snickering. “such a damn baby. got me spoilin’ you already, tch.”

he’s still got your eyes covered, but that’s right when you reach out . . not expecting your hand to grab near his hardened bulge that hides underneath his cloak.

toji pauses, staring at you before you squeeze it and he groans. “what now, doll? still not satisfied?”

“fuck me,” you murmur, but it’s more of a pathetic whine.

you didn’t care anymore—you were at your wits ends. the erotic two words and six letters easily flowed past your lips as if you were dying to say it for the longest, and in this case – you were.

toji’s amused more than anything, and he’s well aware that you’re far not like the others.

this wasn’t just a usual psycho killer versus helpless victim, this was something more . .

“strong words, baby,” he purrs against your ear, licking a stripe down your neck. toji holds your weak rickety hips in place, still shielding your eyes with his palm before showering a good part of your collarbone with a plethora of sloppy kisses.

uh oh, he was starting to get attached. already, he could feel it . . and he knew you were gonna be nothing but a fucking problem in the long run.

a problem he didn’t mind tampering with for a bit.

“say it again,” he whispers, and this time he picks up his knife once more.

it gradually tears down your blouse all the way from the center, openly staring your tits spring open. “tell me what you want me ‘ta do to you again,” and as his husky voice lowers a single octave within each coarse sentence, you squeeze your thighs together.

toji focuses the edge of his knife against your skin and you shiver, feeling it softly brush against the bristles of hair that coat your skin.

the thing that pissed him off though was that you weren’t even scared of him . . no, far from it actually.

you were aroused—hell, maybe even just as crazy as him.

“fuck me, toji.” you repeat, taking it upon yourself to grab the handle of the knife. he raises a brow as he watches, and you bring the wooden end up to your lips, deciding to be a tease and lowering your mouth down it. toji huffs, growing annoyed at your audacity — but fuck, he’s into it.

and all he’s imagining at the moment is your pretty lips that’s wrapped around the handle of his knife being wrapped around his dick instead. you start sucking on it until it taps near the scaled back of your throat, reaching past the roof of your mouth and he scoffs.

brat.

“got some nerve, suckin’ on my damn knife, girl,” and he snatches it away, softly turning you around, pushing you near the right arm of the couch.

you gasp, feeling him swat a hand against your bare ass before he grabs your hips. his movements were so fast that you could barely keep up let alone react. “fine, i’ll fuck you,” and he’s not covering your eyes anymore.

right as you were about to turn around, toji grabs the back of your neck with a gloved hand, tittering. “don’t try me. eyes forward, head down,” and you moan, feeling him pick your hips up—making your rear grind and jostle against his hardening bulge. “ass. fuckin’. up.”

you kiss your teeth, feeling another breath of air leave out your lungs before you whine. toji’s rough, and he’s got a firm grip against your waist before springing out his dick. he grunts, rolling his eyes as he watches you impatiently wriggle your ass, hoping he’d hurry up already.

“can’t wait, can ya baby?” he utters, stroking his length.

as a thumb of his nearly grazes his throbbing vein, his eyes gaze toward your sopping creamy pussy. all wet, and just for him. the antagonizing wait for him to just fuck you like you wanted became almost unbearable, and the second you feel his tip side-swipe against the entrance of your cunt it was over.

a swollen fat tip smacks vigorously against your pussy, and one smack turns into two, then three, then four. .

as he’s slapping his mushroomy cockhead against your drooling pool of heat, you hear a low chortle from behind you. “god, she’s a fuckin’ wet one, ain’t she?” and you whine, hearing yourself squelch each time his angry tip whacks against your poor soddened flaps. ‘whack’ after ‘whack’ and the sounds of his dick slapping against your pussy slowly started to clank through one ear of yours and out the other.

but doing so—the pulsing sensation between your legs only increased, and by now, you were starting to chew on your tongue.

anticipation was eating away at you as you let off a moan, cutely grumbling. “just fuck me already.”

“how ‘bout i leave you ‘n let you fuck yourself,” he snaps back, matching your sass.

oh. you weren’t really used to someone matching your energy—especially a masked man walking around in a ghostface mask but well, that’s besides the point.

toji’s still got a gloved hand wrapped around his hefty length that’s covered in lighting-like twitching veins before he groans.

he’s so fucking hard . . and the more he stares at your pretty sobbing cunt, the more he understands why. “don’t think you’d like that now though, would ya?”

“n- no,” you reply truthfully, letting off a pornographic moan once he starts to align himself between your gaping slit.

it’s fat, and you could tell from the feeling of the size of his monstrous tip alone. you sort of wished you were facing him but alas, you’d just have to use your imagination for now. “fuckk,” you breathe, already starting to feel your eyes rolling back.

the stretch, god the stretch. you thought his fingers was something but it’s nothing compared to his cock. your toes were already curling up, and oh, you knew you were fucked.

toji’s got a few curly black specks of hair that resides near his base—and as he’s slowly easing himself inside, he feels you tightening. right as you do, you feel a vein that runs down his shaft prod.

he feels it – you feel it, and you both hiss in unison. “goddamn,” he grumbles, staring as your own sappy slick starts to glue against his sculptured pelvis. tiny glimmering strands stick and tape against his skin all because of you and it’s just messy. toji smacks your ass one more time before lightly pushing your head into the satiny covered pillow. “move, move those hips or ‘m gonna pull out, doll.”

“mmph—s- so fuckin’ big,” you babble, bringing a bawled up fist into your mouth.

your sweet moans become muffled as his dick’s gradually expanding through your gummy walls, leaving his very mark with his tip. he’s rummaging through every part of you and you gasp—feeling your cunt welcome him wholly, your squelches becoming louder and louder. your tummy starts to churn the more he sinks in deeper and your lips form into a cute gasping shape. “oh, fuck. ‘s gonna break me, toji.”

“pft. don’t be dramatic doll,” he purrs, swatting another smack against your ass. the shape brief sting that only lasts for about five seconds makes you moan once your hips finally starts to move.

it takes a few lengthy seconds before with a wet ‘pop’, he bottoms out. so . . much . . girth, your empty brain was spinning cogwheels, trying to process just how could a guy be this fucking big.

your reaction to how well he stretched you of course, fueled a good portion of his highly cocky ego.

toji’s got a hooked curve too—and you feel it all. toji teasingly gives you one thrust, just one single thrust and you felt like you were gonna snap in half. it was that much power of his hips—you felt the wind get snatched out of you and the prettiest moan left from your lips.

biting down on your lip again, you’re feeling all of his hefty length massage the insides of your cunt. milliseconds shortly past before you then start to feel yourself shamelessly drooling on your split knuckles.

“fuck, fuck,” you chant in a quiet mumble, seeing nothing but inky black as your eyelids continue to flutter open and close.

toji had the kind of size that left butterflies in your tummy – a school of them to be specific, and you felt every single inch of him plummet its way inside. as you’re still babbling incoherent whimpers and whines at how snug he’s buried in you—toji starts to move faster with you.

with two hands, he holds you in place. darkened brows of his crease into a furrow as he sighs. “mhm, atta girl. see, look at you,” and you could hear the playful sarcasm seeping off his tone.

“takin’ it like a fuckin’—champ,” and right at that last word of his sentence, he starts to roll his hips just a bit quicker.

toji tries to match your berserk movement with his own hips, but he ends up beating your pace entirely. you’re trying to keep up but failing miserably and it’s just so cute. . but your face probably wasn’t as cute.

you probably looked a sight—mouth all open, jaw dropped and dangling, eyes bulging, pathetically drooling for more and more and . . you get it.

“hng, harder. fuck me,” you whine, the sound of skin and hips clashing repeating in your ears.

your sloppy cunt’s soaking him from the back, and his backshots were just brutal – killer.

each thrust serves its purpose every time and you’re left speechless. after a while, both bodies start to move rhythmically as your jaw’s just dangling.

damn, randy meeks would be shaking his head, tossing ‘n turning in his grave if he saw this.

under no circumstances . . never ever fuck the masked killer, and yet here you were.

but, who gives a fuck about movies?

you didn’t—not really, and when he had a mean stroke game like toji, you weren’t the type to complain. he’s hitting you deep with his fat splitting tip, filthily cruising his hips into you at such precise vigor until you’re just spouting a whole load of nothin’.

“ugh, right there. right fuckin’ there, fuck,” and you let off a cooing mewl once toji’s hand wraps around your throat.

with a few fingers, he gives you a safe squeeze that earns out a faint gasping croak from the back of your throat. toji uses your neck as leverage as he’s pounding into you rawly, ravaging your insides and all. your pearled clit’s repeatedly getting hit with his plump crown and you gasp, squeaking loudly once he taps against your precious g-spot.

all of a sudden, your brain’s fuzzy and you’re seeing stars—somewhat like a cartoon character. you were silly, literally being fucked silly. “fuuuck!” and it catches you by surprise.

once he reaches past that cute ‘lil spongey barrier of yours, it was over.

you were pronounced dead—dead from cock, and pretty soon you were starting to feel yourself go into a lewd white fantasm for a few seconds.

you’re dumb, dumbly fucked stupid from his sloppy enticing hits that you could barely speak coherently. it felt good, it felt so fucking good, and as you feel his heavy base slam back into you again and again, you start to moan. “yeah, i know, i know, baby,” toji huffs, and your cunt’s just addictive. your walls cling onto him tightly, hugging around him like a vice—threatening to never let go.

your sheer sweltering warmth from the inside makes his head slightly toss back to a certain degree and it’s sexy. if only you were to see it. “god, clampin’ down on me so good. work those hips baby, yeah. give me a fuckin’ show.”

as you try to match his crazed tempo. . eventually, you start to feel a tender feeling arise in the lower part of your tummy.

its familiar, and you can recognize that hot brewing sensation from anywhere. you’re close, and as wanton shrilling whines continue to drag away from your lips you start to spasm.

“fuuucck, toji something’s coming,” you whimper, dragging out your words, and you don’t think it was a regular orgasm.

it was far different . . the feeling was equivalent to someone harshly pressing a palm down on your stomach. your eyes squeeze shut before you repeat yourself through quivering glossed lips. “toji, ‘m gonna—”

“yeah yeah, i heard ya,” he maunders, and he’s feeling himself reaching his inevitable peak too.

it doesn’t take long before he feels the undersides of his meaty thighs starting to burn with hot intensity. toji’s fat cock continues to drag in and out of your goopy walls, hearing you squelch over and over him and he snarls. “fuck,” and he punctuates his thrusts, watching as your ass swiftly slams back into him at such speed. his abs that hide underneath his dark cloak tensing. “same time, baby. finish with me.”

“o.. okay,” you moan, and he’s still got a gloved hand wrapped around your throat the entire time. a thumb of his caresses down your nape, humming at your pretty twitching body underneath him.

it’s a sight he’d love to get used to.

as you’re both chasing your delirious orgasmic peaks—toji presents to your cunt one final thrust that sends your entire body into a crazed stupefied state. your plush cheek near the left side of your face smushes against the pillow before you whimper, starting to feel yourself spritz on him.

your eyes widen as it happens. a spraying geyser shoots out you as you let go—and oh, you’re soaking toji right with you, glossing his entire cock from the base down.

“oh my god, fuck, fuh—fuck!” you sob in craving pleasure, flapping eyelids sticking together from the pretty glassy tears that start to form. so good, it’s a feeling you’ve never felt before and you felt like a weight was gradually being lifted off your shoulders . . including your sweet pussy.

toji finishes seconds later and he groans, stilling his hips against you. creamy velvety bundles of ribbons pours into your cunt and he lets off a low growl. “fuck,” and his hand smacks against your ass again for the nth time.

you felt warm as he’s continuing to spill such a mass amount whilst at the exact same time, you’re drenching his cock – putting faucets to shame at just how damn wet you were.

toji’s cock eventually turns flaccid and soft as his tip and peeled frenulum spits a good amount, watching your body limp underneath him.

with a sly exhausted grin stretching across his scarred lips, he traces his fingers down your spine. “my, oh my,” and you whine, finally finishing. toji stares at your body, feeling you weakly writhe your hips before finally submitting defeat. “did you jus . . fuckin’ squirt on me, pretty girl?”

you did,

and you end up dampening up the cushions of your burgundy colored sofa in the process. you felt like you were floating, panting and heaving ridiculously like a dog. toji brings his hips to a sudden stop, gazing at the ivory wads and ropes of cum that fill inside of your cunt.

slowly but surely . . it starts to race down the crevices of your thighs, splotches of white splattering against your skin. in a dirty, filthy way, it’s pretty – in toji’s mind at least.

he luxuriated at the sight of you all fucked out and speechless. not a word came from your lips except for the occasional whimpers and moaning sobs that would tear out your throat. you were still arched over, moaning once you feel him slowly starting to pull out. “ain’t that a pretty sight,” he rasps, hearing his cock sweetly ‘pop’ out of your creamy fat folds.

you’re oozing out with so so much of his gooey lush cum and it makes him licks his lips. you looked delicious, and he couldn’t help but swipe a finger down your runny cunt, bringing his eager digit up to his lips just to get a taste for himself.

toji was a nasty man—but with the way you tasted, he was even nastier.

as he licks his gloved finger that contains the concoction mess of both sappy liquids, he hums in amusement. “mhm,” and as his leafy viridescent colored eyes linger down towards your cunt, he smears his leaky tip over your pussy.

toji grunts, making sure to paint the entirety of your entrance with his pasty cum that sobs down parched folds. “good girl, good . . fuckin’ girl.”

toji stays like that for a while, and it’s only after an abrupt pausing moment that he makes you turn around to face him. he makes you lie flat on your back, and there, you’re met with the eyes of a handsome smug man. his features were as sly as his attitude, and his ruffled black hair was naturally messy.

“surprise,” he mutters, and you intake a breath once he gets on top of you again. toji doesn’t have the mask on anymore—but he still has on the costume part, a ghoulish black cloak that had slits near the edges of his sleeves. “scared yet?”

“not . . really,” you sheepishly say, slowly trailing your eyes down his body.

squinting just enough, you saw right through the outline of his muscular frame. he was fucking ripped, and you felt yourself throb the moment you started to imagine him wrapping those big burly arms around your—

“figures,” he scoffs, though his tone’s a bit more playful than annoyed. toji runs a big veiny hand through his hair before bringing his watch up to his face. wrinkling his nose, he hums. “gotta run, doll. ‘s been fun.”

a pout pulls against both sides of your lips as he says he has to depart. sure, you didn’t exactly expect him to stay . . well who were you kidding, you sort of did. but you knew he had to go.

your thighs stick together as he remains on top of you, watching him pull his mask back on. with a slightly worn out voice, you murmur. “you can’t stay?”

“no, i can’t stay,” he snickers, knowing you wanted more. toji’s head friskily tilts as you stare at him with a cute doe-eyed expression, still pouting and he rolls his eyes behind the mask. “god, fine. greedy little thing aren’t ‘cha?”

and you hear a bit of shuffling, watching him fish a hand in his pocket as his jeans were now pulled up and made presentable again. toji grabs a sharpie out of his pocket before pulling your waist closer toward him. “tsk. stay still,” and you’re curious to what he was about to do, not daring to move an inch.

you’re all bare and exposed, and you let off a soft exhale once he starts to write something right below your belly button. just a few more inches down and he’d be writing on your pussy.

it lasts for about seven seconds before he stops, adding a heart near the end of what was a ten digit phone number.

“alright, princess. here’s my number. whenever you’re feelin’ horny, just give me a call, yeah?”

and before you could even reply, he leans up to you—pulling up his ghostface mask over his lips, giving you a long teasing kiss. you moan into his mouth, smelling a scent of his cologne before he leisurely pulls away. toji whispers against your lips for one final time before pressing a thumb toward your throat.

“i’ll always come back.”

[gabseyoo]

PROOF — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, best friend!kiyoomi, pwp, cunnilingus, fingering, kinda best friends to lovers. word count: 2,7k.

note: this was supposed to be shameless smut but ended up being kind of romantic (?) just because a kiyoomi being in love with us is my sexual fantasy. also, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but i had no other ideas. maybe when i come up with something better ill change it, who knows :p

“Kiyoomi, do you go down on girls?”

The question took Kiyoomi off guard. You guys had spent the last twenty minutes in almost complete silence, just hanging out in his living room and completely ignoring the random movie you had chosen because you both were scrolling through your phones, which is why the last thing he expected to hear out of the blue was such a question.

He turned to look at you, who were lying across the couch with your feet resting in his lap and still staring at your phone screen. Not knowing what to say, a ‘huh’ was the only thing he could think of. 

“Just answer.” You poked his thigh with your foot. “It’s not like we’re strangers.” 

That was true. You two were good friends, practically best friends, and therefore, you both had full confidence in each other. But, you had always kept a limit when it came to talking about both his sex life and yours, to the point where that part of your respective lives was a complete mystery to each other. 

And this is a secret— but he liked it that way. Because he was more than sure that he didn’t want to know what you did with other men at all. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn with jealousy. That’s the reason he didn’t bother to tell you about his own experiences with other women either, just in case there was a small chance that you might feel the same way he did. 

“None of your business.” He answered sharply. 

You rolled your eyes before getting up from your comfortable position to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, Kiyoomi, It’s just a question.”

“A question I won’t answer.”

“Why not?” You crossed your arms, looking at him defiantly. 

Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at your posture, why did you suddenly want to know that? Moreover, why did you insist on wanting to know? Did someone say something to you? Is there a rumor about him? Or maybe you had suddenly awakened an interest in him? He was overthinking, but still he hoped more than anything that it was the latter option rather than the others. 

“Just because.” He said, and before you could protest, he continued: “And, why are you asking anyway?” 

A smirk appeared on your face, “If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours. Deal?”

“Never mind.”

“You’ll never know why I asked, then.” You said, casually looking at your nails. “Unless we make a deal.”

He shouldn’t accept so easily, he knew, but now he was genuinely curious why you broke an unspoken rule between you two to ask him if he did orals, of all things. 

So, he agreed. “Deal.”

Your smile of victory almost made him smile too, but he did his best to remain serious. “Okay. Tell me.”

He sighed before answering honestly. “I do.”

Your eyes widened and an incredulous laugh escaped your lips before you said, “Really?” The surprise in your voice made him frown, why was that surprising? Should he be offended?

“Yeah.”

“Are you serious? You go down on girls?” You couldn't even hide the disbelief in your voice. “You?”

“I already said yes. Now, tell me. Why are you asking?”

Without further ado, you grabbed your phone that had been forgotten in your lap to unlock it, and a second later you were showing him what appeared to be your TikTok feed.

“A fan made a TikTok with the title: Ranking how good MSBY players are at giving head and you were raked as a zero just because he’d rather die than put his mouth there.”

What the fuck?!

“Let me see that.”

In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi snatched the phone from you to watch the video with his own eyes, regretting it as soon as it started thanks to the embarrassing selection of music and photos chosen from the team members. He scoffed, a random person on the internet had felt entitled to make this kind of ranking just based on appearances and assumptions. It’s not like they could have any real evidence at the end of the day. But it seems that for many people a video of this kind told the absolute truth, because it had thousands of likes and thousands of comments, and—to his misfortune—he couldn’t help but read them.

Now he wished he had never done it. 

In addition to most of the comments agreeing and mocking Kiyoomi’s ranking, saying that at least his face makes up for it and that maybe he gives head as long as he has his face mask on—that one was actually funny, but he wouldn’t say that out loud—, the other vast majority agreed that Atsumu and Bokuto were the best. 

But the question here is, did you think the same?

“You actually believe this crap?” He asked, actually sounding more hurt than he planned. 

“Kiyoomi, it’s just a TikTok. Of course, I’ll believe it.” You were obviously trying to make a joke, but still, the expression on his face showed pure disbelief. “I’m joking, jeez.”

“I know it’s a just TikTok, but I still want to know.” He sounded serious. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, perhaps thinking he was exaggerating, maybe he was, but he wasn’t offended by the fact that someone made that video, there were probably hundreds just like it. It was the fact that you, of all people, seemed to agree with an assumption about him and his very private intimate life. 

“Kiyoomi, I just thought it was funny. That’s why I asked.”

“But you didn’t believe me when I told you I did.”

“I did believe you.” He narrowed his eyes, showing that he obviously didn’t buy your words. “I’m not lying. I believed you, but— I was just… shocked.”

“Why?”

“It’s just that…never mind.”

“Tell me.” 

You looked him in the eye for a few seconds before sighing heavily.

“You’re… a little too special when it comes to cleanness and— where you put your mouth, you know?” You weren’t even looking him in the face, obviously nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. “I’m not judging you, we should all be careful where we put it. And, I just thought that… yeah” You waved your hand as you finished, trying to play it down. 

Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you or others for thinking that, after all, that was the kind of reputation he built for himself. But, even when he didn’t care what others thought about him, he always cared what you thought; for that reason alone, he wasn’t going to let you walk away with the wrong idea about him. 

“Yes, we should. But now you know that I actually go down.” He said, and, simply because he had a good feeling, he added: “And I’m pretty good at it, I can assure you.”

You scoffed. “Are you?”

“I am.” Confidence exuded in his voice, perhaps that was exactly why the next words came out of his mouth: “You want proof?”

What happened next was a delight to his eyes. 

You got fucking nervous, of course he noticed, you were his best friend after all. You widened your eyes, opened your mouth a couple of times in an attempt to say something but nothing came out. But what was a poem for him, was to see how you moved your hips slightly, in a movement that could have gone unnoticed if he hadn't paid all his attention to you. 

You cleared your throat as you looked away from his gaze. “I have no desire to ask your previous flings how good you are down there or watch any pornographic videos of you, so no, thanks.” You folded your arms as you sat up straight, suddenly finding the movie interesting. 

The room fell into silence, accompanied by a heavy tension that you two were obviously aware of. 

This situation was actually kind of funny. Thanks to a fucking TikTok, he now had an opportunity in front of him that he had been waiting for a long time. An opportunity he was going to take. 

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of proof.”

Three minutes later, you were lying on the couch with your head resting on a pillow, your pants thrown aside on the floor and Kiyoomi between your legs, spreading kisses across your belly. 

“This is weird.” You said, maybe in an attempt to break the intimate silence that had formed where only your breaths and his kisses could be heard. 

“It is.” He agreed before lowering his lips to your inner thighs, where he surprised you with a light bite that made you gasp. “We can stop if you want.”

You were quick to reply with a no and he smirked against your skin. Of course you didn’t want to stop, neither did he. Both of you by this point were already immersed in lust, even though it had only been a few minutes of foreplay.

When he was desperately taking off your pants minutes ago, Kiyoomi debated whether to just go for it or take it slow. 

But the moment he saw the longing in your eyes, how pretty you looked underneath him, he knew he would take his time. He didn’t just want to prove something to you; he actually wanted to taste you, to make you squirm, to make you enjoy this as much as he would. 

Gently caressing your thighs with both hands, he moved down until his mouth made contact with your pelvis, where he left another trail of kisses until he reached right where your clit was. Still above the fabric of your panties, he kissed you there, which was enough to elicit a moan of frustration from you.

“Please, just do it.” 

He kissed the same spot again before smirking. “Let me just go get my facemask, can’t do this without it.” 

His sudden joke made you burst into laughter which elicited a chuckle from him. “Don’t kill the mood.” You said as you gave a small pat to his hand that squeezed your thigh. 

He smiled and brought both of his hands to the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “At this point that’s impossible.”

“I know.” You muttered as you lifted your hips to let him remove the garment easily. 

As quickly as the garment hit the floor, Kiyoomi’s eyes focused on the middle of your legs, you may not have noticed, but the mere sight of your pussy glistening with your arousal made him twice as hard as he already was. 

“Don’t stare.” You said, trying to close your legs as much as you could since Kiyoomi was in the way.

No, no, no. There was no way for you to hide from him now, or ever. 

“Why not? You’re so fucking hot in all places.” 

Hearing his words, in an act of fluster, you brought both of your hands to cover your face, perhaps trying to hide how his praise made you feel. “You think so?”

The question came out almost in a whisper, and in response, he took both of your hands, interlaced your fingers and placed them on the sides of your head with the purpose of looking you in the eyes. 

“There’s no day when I don’t think that you’re hot,” He confessed, his voice deep and serious with the purpose of making you understand that he was not playing games. “Now that I just told you how crazy I’m for you, open your legs and let me make you feel good.”

You nodded, and staring at him with desire in your eyes, you opened your legs wide open again until that part of your body that he wanted to devour more than anything else was once again fully at his mercy.

Kiyoomi let go your hands and he lowered his body until his stomach made contact with the soft cushion of the couch. Now in that position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, squeezing the flesh eagerly before dipping his head into the middle of your legs. 

“God.” You sighed, jerking your hips upward in surprise. 

He played slowly with his tongue, running it up and down before concentrating on sucking your clit. 

He was hard as fuck. Maybe more than he had ever been in his life. He even felt his tip leaking and was almost certain that if he started grinding his hips against the cushion, he could come at any moment. But he would save that for later. Right now, he was getting drunk on your taste and the sound of your moans. 

And fuck… those moans were heaven itself. 

He lowered his mouth, right at your entrance, where he began to lick gathering more of your juices before he deepened his mouth against your clit, sucking harder, quickly realizing that you liked it by the movement of your hips and the loud whimper that came out of your mouth. 

Kiyoomi was getting excited, even more so when he felt your hands stroking his head before pulling his curls, holding him closer to you, as if you were afraid he would break away, taking with him the pleasure you were feeling, but Kiyoomi wasn’t willing to do that, right now what he wanted most was you coming as hard as you could in his mouth. 

Hungry to increase your pleasure, he didn’t think twice when he let go of one of your thighs to stick a finger inside you, thrusting it in and out a few times before slipping another one in and curving his fingers to reach that sensitive spot inside you. 

“There, oh god, there.”

He would give you whatever you wanted, so he focused there. Feeling lovesick at this point. Loving the way you sounded. Loving the way you pulled his hair. Loving  the way your tight pussy squeezed his fingers. 

He moved his tongue back down to your entrance at the same time he pulled his fingers out, but only to start circling them over your clit. This is where you put a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, but Kiyoomi didn’t want that, he wanted to hear you come undone for him, no matter if it woke up the neighbors. So with his free hand he took you by the wrist at the same time that he separated his mouth from your sex.

“Don’t hold back those sounds, I want to hear you scream for me. Okay?”

You nodded. Too shocked to formulate words. 

“Good girl.” He praised before placing a short kiss on your wrist, releasing it a second later to immediately return to seal his mouth with your wet pussy. 

This time he put both hands behind your knees to spread your legs wider and pushed them against your chest, giving himself more room to continue devouring you, proud that you were no longer shy to scream with pleasure when he flicked his tongue, sucked and bit your pretty pussy. 

“I’m close. Fuck! Don’t stop, please.”

Kiyoomi wouldn’t stop, he was sure of that.

It was a matter of seconds when started to came in your best friend’s mouth. 

Kiyoomi kept licking, drinking up all your release until your legs began to shake from overstimulation. 

He gave a peck to your clit before gently letting go of your legs, settling them slowly on the cushion. He caressed your thighs as he left kiss after kiss on your belly, helping you relax as you tried to control your breathing after such an intense experience. 

You were lying there staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps processing everything that just happened, but Kiyoomi wouldn’t give you time for regrets, not now, not ever. He moved on top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and looked down at you, connecting your gazes before asking with a cocky smile on his face, “And? How was it?”

You let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes playfully before answering, “I think TikTok and I owe you an apology.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re definitely not a zero.”

“I’ll be happy with yours alone.” He said before lowering his face further until your noses brushed, “Your opinion is the only one I care about afterall.” He added before finally kissing you.

[ja3yun]

Guilty as Sin Pt.2 | P.SH

ceo!sunghoon x assistant!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, dom!hoon, oral (m.rec), deep throating, fingering, cum eating, power dynamics, spanking, window fucking, punishment vibes, he makes her lick his shoe, pet names (good girl, slut), slight degradation, slapping, no aftercare mentioned but implied (kinda), age gap (reader is 22 and hoon is 27), anything else lmk! w.c: 8.2k synopsis: after your boss heard you on the phone last night, it was time to face the consequences of your sins, however, he has something else in mind other than firing you. a/n: hi! it's the much requested second part and i need to tell you i got carried away with this. 6k of this is pure smut so it's kind of a pwp still. you can also read this as a stand alone if you really want to. i hope you guys love it and thank you so much for the love on the first part! as always, reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are welcome

part 1

The door in front of you seems daunting, an imposing barrier that looms larger with every passing second. The air grows suddenly cold as a draught from the office behind it whooshes through the slits in the frame, sending a shiver over your body. You've been standing here for precisely 2 minutes and 12 seconds, the weight of your hesitation pressing down on you. The confrontation ahead feels monumental, the necessary action of knocking on the door an insurmountable hurdle.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. With your left hand, you awkwardly smooth down your charcoal pencil skirt. The fabric, meticulously ironed earlier this morning, clings slightly to your legs, stopping just above your knee. You adjust the waistband, ensuring your crisp white blouse is neatly tucked in. This is a constant ensemble you wear to your work and has been accepted and sometimes praised by others, yet today it doesn’t feel up to standard.

The coffee in your right hand was supposed to be a peace offering, a gesture to sweeten up your boss after last night’s…escapades. You had hoped the familiar aroma of his favourite brew would set a positive tone for the conversation. But the barista had made the wrong order, a careless mistake that left you with a cup of something less than ideal. With no time to wait for a replacement, you had rushed out of the shop, the seconds ticking away, and now here you are, standing at the threshold, the incorrect coffee staring at the door with you, a bubbling disappointment he will surely add to the list.

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. You were supposed to have a quiet night in with a glass of wine in one hand and a dildo in the other, not your boss possibly thinking that you’re a pervert. There is no way he didn’t hear you on the phone as you climaxed to his voice; it was so loud you think the old lady from three flats down could have heard you. 

As fucking amazing as the orgasm was - possibly one of your most star-bursting - it does leave you with dire consequences that you have to face right this instant. You’re already a minute past 6am and he isn’t going to be too happy about that.

Gathering every ounce of courage, you straighten your posture, shoulders back, head high. You take one final, steadying breath. With your heart pounding in your chest, you lift your hand, knuckles brushing lightly against the door, and tap firmly three times. The sound echoes in the silence, each knock a heartbeat, a countdown to whatever awaits on the other side.

The moments stretch interminably. You can almost feel the seconds dripping by, thick and viscous, each one a testament to your growing anxiety. Your grip tightens around the coffee cup, the warmth seeping through the thin cardboard sleeve, a small comfort against the chill that has settled into your bones.

“Come in.”

His booming voice filters through the oak door, startling you despite your knuckles alerting him of your presence. Although he has given you the go-ahead, you still don’t move for two beats, suddenly regretting the decision not to quit via email as soon as you cleaned the cum from your dildo and finished off the entire bottle of wine.

With a shaky breath, you force your legs to carry you forward. The door feels heavier than it should as you push it open, the creak of the hinges matching the tension coiling in your stomach. 

The office is modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows occupying one corner, offering a panoramic view of the cityscape. The rest of the room is a study in black and white - sleek, minimalist furniture and stark contrasts that give the space a sterile, yet sophisticated feel.

Behind a glossy wooden desk, your boss sits, his stern gaze fixed on you, making the room feel both expansive and claustrophobic at the same time.

“Good morning,” you manage to say, your voice sounding meek and uncertain. You step inside, the door clicking shut behind you with an ominous finality. Whatever happens, whatever reprimanding he is about to bestow upon you, there is no escaping.

Your boss doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes flicker to the coffee cup in your hand, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Is that for me?” he asks, his tone cool and unreadable. He knows you bring him coffee every morning but the hesitance in your step confuses him.

“Yes, Mr. Park, but I’m afraid it’s not your usual order,” you confess, stepping forward and placing the cup on his desk. The surface is immaculate, reflecting the cup and your trembling hands like a dark mirror. “The barista made a mistake and put oat milk instead of soya and a pump of vanilla rather than honey.”

He picks up the cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The contact sends a jolt through you, a reminder of last night’s indiscretion, how you wished it was his hands all over you. He inspects the label, then takes a small, unsure sip.

Playing with the tips of your fingers and tapping your knees together briefly, you wait for a scolding, yet nothing comes from it. His face insinuates that he isn’t exactly thrilled by the taste, but he isn’t throwing it in your face or firing you, so, you relax a little.

He isn’t the type of boss who lashes out at you; rather, he keeps his calm in most situations. Even that one month when you scheduled all his June appointments for July and June was filled with May meetings. That day, he simply told you that you couldn’t leave the office until everything was finalized and settled; it was a long night.

Not looking at you, he goes back to typing something on his laptop, his face now back to that monotonous glare that gives zero indication of his feelings away. Was he mad? Confused? Disappointed? You could never know by his neutral expression.

You stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, awaiting further instruction. The silence stretches on, making the ticking of the wall clock seem unbearably loud. Usually, he has a list of things you should be doing, and to get you up and in the office early seems pointless if you’re just going to stand there in your gifted black, shiny heels - gifted by him nonetheless.

Finally, you clear your throat softly and speak up. “Your meeting is in three hours, sir. Did you want me to come in early to help or…?” You trail off, unsure how to proceed.

Mr. Park looks up expectantly, one eyebrow raised as he peers over his glasses. “Or?”

The single word hangs in the air, loaded with unspoken expectations. By the glint in his eye, it was clear he wanted you to continue, to confess to your sins, which means he did hear you come undone last night. If you could jump out of his office and onto the cold concrete 39 floors below, you would; it would be much less painful.

You feel a tint of warmth along your cheeks, head bowing in a sorry gesture. There is no way you can just turn around and say ‘Sorry about last night, it should be a compliment considering no other man or porn is able to get me off quite like your Instagram does’. That is a HR appointment waiting to happen.

So instead you stay silent, much to his impatience.

Once he realises you aren’t going to use your voice box anytime soon, he shuts his laptop over before sitting back in his chair, inhaling so deeply you see his chest rise under his white Prada shirt. 

As you take in his appearance, a pool forms between your legs. No matter how many times you see him in his work aesthetic; black fitted slacks, a white, tight fitted shirt, the black tie that he forms in a Windsor knot, and those silver framed glasses that you’re convinced are just for aesthetic and not functional, you still can’t control the lewd thoughts in you mind. His face with those perfect eyebrows and dark eyes only makes you draw closer to his face.

It’s worse when you’re both in a lift and you imagine it breaking down, clothes flying as you ravage one another-

“I think it’s time we had your supervision, don’t you?” Sunghoon’s question rips your attention away from your filthy thoughts and back to reality.

“But, Sir, I just had my supervision last month,” you recall. Every three months, Sunghoon calls you in to track your progress, give you direction on how to further progress as an employee, and list areas you can improve on. It is also a time to bring up any issues he might have with your performance.

Last month, like all the other supervisions you have dreadingly attended, had a positive outcome, with no complaints from your boss despite your mistakes. You’re beginning to think he might not be as harsh as he seems, the CEO stereotype of cold, mean, and detached sometimes clouding your perception of him. Sure, he can be scary, but isn't that true of every boss?

“I must have lost the file,” he says, sucking his teeth in a feigned apology. “Please, have a seat.”

Sunghoon gestures to the black leather chair across from him. His pupils expand, and his tongue swipes past his lips as you sit, crossing one leg over the other like you have many times before. Your skirt hikes up to mid-thigh, exposing more skin than is office-appropriate.

Sunghoon adjusts his glasses, peering down at some papers on his desk, scanning through them as if they contain all the questions he needs to grill you on. You know they don’t because he keeps all his files electronically; it's easier for him to find and navigate, plus he hates adding unnecessary pressure on the environment. You discovered his soft spot for the earth after he asked you to double-check his bank statement and you saw multiple transactions to various environmental charities.

“So,” he begins, reading the nonsense papers, “How do you think you’ve performed over the past few months?”

The questions are always the same, so you always answer them the same way; how Sunghoon wants them answered. “Good, Sir. I think I have made progress, but there is always room for improvement.”

“And what would you improve?”

“I believe my performance is steady, but it would be good to challenge myself. The opportunities you’ve given me to explore different departments have been invaluable. It could be beneficial to work closely with you and bring forth ideas in pre-meeting discussions between us.” You repeat what you said last month, just in a different order. Your boss loves it when you subtly praise him; it always causes his eyebrows to rise and a small, tight smile to grace his face.

Except this time, he smirks - a look he only adopts when he’s either about to obliterate someone in the boardroom or win an argument. Neither scenario fits your current conversation, leaving your mind swirling with uncertainty.

The atmosphere has turned thicker with heat. Maybe it's your own problem as you tighten the grip on your crossed legs, watching his large, veiny hands flick through a stapled booklet, sometimes licking his finger for grip.

Should you be looking at him like this after what happened last night? Probably not, but you’re just a woman with needs, and you crave Sunghoon to curb those needs as quickly as possible, no matter the working relationship.

But this is how you got into this mess - letting your thirst for him take over your state of mind. Now, you’re facing an unnecessary supervision that could lead to your termination or a department transfer. You work under Sunghoon as his assistant, but he has allowed you to grow and learn in ways a typical boss wouldn’t. Instead of fetching coffee and running errands, he’s included you in meetings, let you make some decisions, and introduced you to department heads, especially the graphic design team, the field you wish to progress into.

Perhaps that’s the source of the heated atmosphere - not your uncontrollable lust but your fear.

“And would you say you have a good working relationship with others at work?” he asks, his shoulders tenser than before.

This is a new question, one you haven’t rehearsed an answer for.

“Uh, yes?” 

He stops shuffling papers at your lacklustre response, clearly unimpressed, and gives you a moment to elaborate. “I mean, yes, I do get along with most people here. I try to maintain professionalism and have a healthy balance along with friendships.” It’s a generic answer, but mostly true.

“Do you think we have a good working relationship?” Sunghoon hasn’t looked at you this whole time, but you can see him fighting the urge.

“I believe so, Sir. I think we get along well and have a solid foundation built on respect,” you answer honestly, omitting the times you’ve thought about him in a less-than-professional light.

Sunghoon takes off his glasses, pushing his chair back slightly. “I see.” His words are sharp and contemplative, making your chest tighten. He’s absolutely firing you today, and he has every right to do so. He probably feels disrespected and disgusted by what he heard last night.

Circling his desk, he leans against the edge, his body now close to yours, radiating an air of dominance. You can feel the heat of his presence, the way his gaze pierces through you, making the room feel even smaller. 

This isn’t going to end well for you.

“So, what was it you used to get yourself off last night to the sound of my voice?” he asks, his tone low and menacingly curious.

The question hits you like a freight train. You choke on your own saliva, eyes bulging, mouth turning drier than a Ritz cracker without butter. Your heart pounds in your chest, echoing in your ears like a drum. You try to form words, but your mind is blank, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of his question and the implications it carries.

Sunghoon's eyes narrow slightly as he watches your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His demeanour is composed, but there's an underlying intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He seems to relish your discomfort, his confidence only growing as he maintains eye contact, making it impossible for you to look away.

Your thoughts race, trying to find a way out of this situation. The room feels suffocating, the silence between you stretching endlessly as you struggle to regain your composure. The memory of last night flashes in your mind, the sound of his voice in the background as you gave in to your desires.

Sunghoon shifts slightly, his stance more relaxed, yet every movement is calculated, deliberately exuding power. He taps a finger on the desk, the sound sharp and precise, mirroring the tension in the room. His eyes glint with a mix of expectation and something darker, making it clear that he won’t let this go easily.

“Do you need a moment to answer, or should I repeat the question?” he asks, his voice dripping with mock politeness.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, and manage to find your voice, though it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”

He pokes his tongue to the side of his cheek, fighting the urge to smirk fully. “Don’t play coy with me. I heard everything. Now, answer my question.” 

Your mind scrambles for an escape, but there’s no way out. You’re trapped, cornered by his authority and your own actions. The room feels like it’s closing in on you, the tension thick with something unspoken. You know you have to say something, anything, to break the silence and diffuse the situation, but words fail you.

Sunghoon’s gaze remains fixed on you, unrelenting. “Well?” he prompts, his voice a dangerous whisper. He rolls up his sleeves devilishly slow, giving you a show of his veins and strong yet soft hands.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable. “It was a mistake, Sir. It won’t happen again,” you manage to say, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay calm.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your response. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he says, leaning closer, his presence overwhelming as his eyes fixate on yours. “What did you use?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You can feel the weight of his expectations, the demand for honesty. There’s no escaping it. You have to confront this head-on, no matter how humiliating it is.

Taking another shaky breath, you finally confess, your voice barely audible. “I used a dildo, Sir.” You want the world to swallow you whole, to never see the light of day again because how could you possibly admit to that in front of the Park Sunghoon?

His smirk deepens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “What size?” he asks, his tone almost casual but laced with a dangerous curiosity.

Your heart pounds even harder. Every beat is a reminder of the humiliation you’re enduring. “Six inches,” you whisper, your face burning with shame. Now your boss knows the size of your dildo. Great. 

Sunghoon's eyes gleam with a predatory satisfaction. “And was it me you were thinking about?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur. The question pierces through the remaining shreds of your composure.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, feeling the weight of his stare. “Yes,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking about you, Sir.”

Sighing with feigned disapproval, Sunghoon crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Y/N, I am very disappointed in you.” That is the last thing you want to hear; the respect you have for him as a boss and a professional makes the words sting just a little bit more than if it was anyone else.

You bow your head in shame, rubbing your knee to comfort yourself against his harsh tone. “I’m so-”

“It should have been at least eight,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to snap to his, widening in shock.

His words hang in the air, and the implications send a shiver down your spine. He pushes off the desk and moves closer to you, his presence even more imposing. “You see,” he continues, his voice low and controlled, “if you’re going to fantasise about me, you should at least get the details right.”

Your heart races, the mixture of fear and anticipation almost too much to bear. Sunghoon leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “Now, let’s assess your performance. I expect complete cooperation from you moving forward. Understood?”

It’s a subtle way of asking your permission, knowing that once whatever is about to transpire in this office happens, there is no going back to your previous assistant and boss relationship, especially if his hungry eyes and your pulsing core have anything to say about the matter.

Nodding, you agree quickly, granting him your consent, but that isn’t good enough for him.

“Y/N, one thing that constantly comes up in these supervisions is your development of communication skills,” he says, tutting with a mocking glare. “Use your words.”

You take a deep breath, your pulse racing as you summon the courage to speak. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

A satisfied smile crosses Sunghoon’s face as he takes in your words. “Good,” he murmurs. “Now, bend over the desk.”

You comply, standing up and leaning forward until your chest is pressed against the cool surface. Your skirt rides up, exposing your thighs, and the vulnerability of the position sends a shiver through you. 

The energy in the office is charged with anxiety and anticipation. The gentle hum of the air conditioner does little to alleviate the heat emanating between the two of you. The familiar surroundings suddenly feel exotic and infused with new vitality. The mixture of the light from the world waking up outside and the glow of his desk lamp creates an intimate, almost clandestine ambience.

Sunghoon’s imposing desk, usually a symbol of authority and professionalism, now serves as an altar for your transgression. The smooth, polished wood feels cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your body. Papers and office supplies, once orderly and mundane, now seem like silent witnesses to the unfolding drama.

Sunghoon steps closer, his presence looming over you. The scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly him envelops you, mingling with the faint, clean scent of the office. His hand smooths over your exposed skin, gentle but possessive, sending goosebumps over your delicate skin. He hikes up your skirt so your ass is exposed and ready for the inevitable.

“You need to be taught a lesson, to help you improve your vocal skills, wouldn’t you say?” he asks, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that cuts through the silence.

Without warning, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasp, the sting of the impact radiating through you. He doesn’t give you time to recover before delivering another smack, then another, each one firm and precise.

It’s electric and better than anything you could have conjured up using your imagination alone. His spanks are harsh but not unpleasant, each vibration of his hand to your cheeks rippling down to your core. It aches to be touched, wetness glistening over your folds to exhibit your desperation.

Pressing himself against you, you feel his bulge prominent against you. Fuck, you really did underestimate how big he was. Even concealed, you know he’s packing so much that your dildo pales in comparison. His hands now soothe your scarlet ass, giving you some relief.

However, the calm is short-lived. “You’re going to tell me everything you fantasise about, no detail left unturned. Got it?” His voice is dark, his breath warm against the back of your neck, and his lips so close to your skin that you almost whimper out in need.

You can’t believe this is happening. All those months of wishing he would touch you, spank you, punish you, praise you, and do literally anything to you are all coming to fruition right now. Maybe you should have slipped up earlier, maybe those chances to touch his thigh at meetings or drunkenly kiss him at work nights out would have gotten you in this position a lot quicker.

It does beg the question, how long has he wanted this? Has he thought about you at all in any way other than his assistant? Perhaps this is a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing or could he want you just as badly?

“Yes, Sir,” you answer his previous question, cheek pressed against the cool desk as your body heats up.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hands tracing over the redness of your ass, fingers brushing lightly against your skin. “Start from the beginning.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I fantasise about you, Sir,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “I think about you touching me, I want to please you in every way.”

His hand comes down again, a sharp reminder of his dominance as he leaves a lingering sting. “Be specific,” he demands. “I want details.”

Your mind races, trying to find the words because what haven’t you thought about? You have imagined him in every possible scenario; loving you, hating you, cuddling you, punishing you, and most importantly, fucking you into oblivion. Even last night, you thought about him punishing you exactly how he is right now. 

“Sometimes I-I think about you punishing me, spanking me until I cum,” you admit, your voice quivering with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. It feels incredibly dirty to vocalise your fantasies, yet Sunghoon seems more than thrilled by the idea you paint with your words.

He has always been the controlling type, commanding respect without arrogance, a quality that naturally makes people want to please him. Unfortunately, you've taken that want and twisted it into a filthy need.

Your boss delivers another firm smack to your ass, causing a gasp to escape your lips and a slick of your arousal to drip onto his polished shoe. He notices, but any reprimand is postponed; for now, he's focused on your communication skills to help you improve as an employee…of course.

Sunghoon’s touch is deliberate, each spank is a calculated act of dominance that leaves your skin tingling and your thoughts scattered. His hand moves with precision, alternating between stinging slaps and soothing caresses, creating a rhythm that both punishes and rewards.

He is nothing if not fair.

“Just spanking?” he teases, his fingers hooking into the band of your panties as he plays with it, feeling the lace on his skin. 

You quake at his touch, caught off guard by his question. His fingers toy with the delicate fabric, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The air around you crackles with tension, thick with unspoken desire and the heady scent of arousal. 

“No, Sir.” You pause, gathering your thoughts. This is the one time to make your fantasies come to life, whatever you tell him now will probably be what you receive. You need to make sure this is everything you truly want, it could be the first and last time. “I imagine your fingers inside of me, calling me a good girl as I cum.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tenses, eyes closing behind you as the dirty confession sends an electric current through him. His hand tightens on your panties, a possessive grip that both excites and reassures. His controlled demeanour cracks slightly, revealing a raw hunger beneath the surface.

“You want my fingers inside you, hmm?” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “You want me to make you cum, to be my good girl?”

His words send a thrill through you, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence. Sunghoon’s touch becomes bolder, sliding the lace of your panties aside to tease your folds, his fingers brushing against your wetness.

“You’re so wet,” he observes, his tone both approving and teasing. “Did my spanking turn you on this much?”

You nod, unable to form words as pleasure coils tight in your belly. Sunghoon’s fingers explore your slick heat, his touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume you. The desk supports your trembling form as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“I’m going to make you cum,” he whispers his voice a promise that sends a shiver of anticipation through you. “But first, you have to beg for it. Prove to me that you can use your voice.”

You whimper, the command sending a jolt of need through you. “Please,” you gasp, your voice pleading and desperate. “Please, Sir, I need it. I need your fingers inside of me, making me ready to take your cock.” You should be humiliated by how easily the sentences tumble from your mouth but the cocktail of your lust and his teasing touch make you weak.

Sunghoon’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his fingers finding your clit and circling it slowly. “That’s it, you always have been a fast learner,” he murmurs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure to your heart. “So good for me.”

His words fuel your desire, the intensity building with each stroke of his fingers. Your body responds eagerly, hips pushing against his hand in a silent plea for more. His touches are slow and precise, giving just enough attention to your nub to make you want more before he drags his fingers down your folds and plays with your aching hole. 

Sunghoon’s eyes darken with intent, his fingers delving deeper into your slick folds. The teasing pace shifts, his touch becoming merciless as he thrusts his fingers inside you with an intensity that makes you gasp. Sunghoon’s control is absolute, his touch expertly bringing you closer to the edge. 

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks in a deep, governing tone. "Is this what you begged for?"

You can only groan in return, your body arching towards him, yearning for more. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mixed with your frantic whimpers as his fingers curl within you, finding the point that causes your vision to blur.

"Look at you," he says with a satisfied tone in his voice. "So eager and desperate. My good girl."

His words add another surge of pleasure and your hips move in sync with his unrelenting fingers. Every time he calls you a good girl, you swear a piece of your pussy and heart is imprinted with his name. The sensation is overpowering, with each stroke of his long fingers drawing you closer to the brink. You can feel your release building, like a coil of fire tightening in your centre.

Sunghoon’s thumb finds your clit, adding to the exquisite torment. He rubs it in slow, deliberate circles, the dual sensation making you cry out. The pleasure is almost too much, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

“You’re going to cum for me,” he demands, his voice a rough whisper. “I want to feel you tighten around my fingers. I want to hear you scream my name. Be vocal, don’t hold back.”

His directive is all you need. With a final effort, the cord inside you snaps, and your release crashes over you in waves. You shout out, his name on your lips, and your body convulses with delight. Sunghoon keeps moving his fingers inside you, prolonging the climax until you're a shaking, gasping mess.

You are so happy no one else in this building can hear you.

As your breathing slows, Sunghoon withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, savouring your taste with a hum of approval. His gaze locks onto yours, filled with a mix of satisfaction and lingering hunger.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to the floor where droplets of your release have landed on his shoe. “We can’t have that, can we?”

Before you can respond, he grabs your hair, yanking you up from the large desk. His body is still pressed behind you, his lips ghosting your lobe as he breathes heavily. “The next part of your assessment is following instructions. Clean it up,” he commands, his voice brooking no argument. “Use your tongue.”

Your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, but you nod, obediently lowering yourself to your knees. The sight of you on the floor, eyes filled with submission, seems to please him. His fingers trace your jawline before guiding your head downwards.

The leather of his shoe glistens with your essence, and you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lap at the droplets. The taste of yourself mixed with the leather is intoxicating, the saltiness of your release mingling with the rich, earthy flavour of the leather. You can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning into you, watching every movement with rapt attention.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a low purr. “Make sure you get every drop. Lick it spotless.”

You work diligently, your tongue tracing over the shoe, cleaning every last bit of your release. The texture of the leather is smooth under your tongue, each lap bringing a mix of shame and excitement. You should not be this willing to humiliate yourself, especially in front of a man, but he makes it so easy to fall in line.

Sunghoon’s hand rests on the back of your head, a constant reminder of his control. His fingers thread through your hair, tugging and petting gently as you continue your task.

Once you’re finished, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him with pride and submission. Sunghoon’s eyes soften slightly, a hint of warmth breaking through his dominant facade. He crouches down, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips.

“You’ve done well,” he murmurs, his voice filled with approval. “But we’re not done yet.”

He stands, the glint of authority returning to his eyes as he begins to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking sends a shiver down your spine, your gaze locked on his hands as they work with deliberate slowness. The belt slides free, and you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, the desire to touch him overwhelming.

As your hand moves forward, Sunghoon’s reflexes are swift. He catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Not until I tell you to,” he warns, his tone stern. “Don’t make me tie you up.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you nod, drawing your hand back to your side. The threat of being restrained hangs in the air, adding another layer of excitement. Part of you wishes that he would take that sleek black tie from his collar and wrap it around your wrists but you know that if you can’t touch him, you’ll go insane. 

Sunghoon releases your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes down his dress trousers and boxers, revealing his throbbing erection.

The sight of him, thick and pulsing with need, makes your mouth water. It’s fucking beautiful, so much more exquisite than in your sinful fantasies. You lean forward, eager to please, but he places a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Patience,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You’ll get what you want, but on my terms. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He steps closer, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. The warmth and hardness of him send a thrill through you, and you part your lips, ready to take him in. Sunghoon taps himself on your outstretched tongue a few times before he guides himself into your mouth, the taste of him filling your senses. You begin to suck gently, your tongue swirling around the head, savouring the salty tang of his pre-cum.

Sunghoon’s hand finds its way back into your hair, gripping tightly as he begins to move his hips. He pushes deeper, his cock sliding over your tongue and hitting the back of your throat. The sensation makes you gag slightly, but you relax your throat, allowing him to press further.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a husky whisper. “Take it all.”

He thrusts into your mouth with increasing intensity, each movement making your eyes water and your throat constrict around him. The feeling of being filled so completely is overwhelming, a mixture of discomfort and pleasure that sends a rush of heat through your body. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat, his cock sliding in and out with a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens, and he begins to fuck your mouth with a relentless pace. Your hands clutch at his thighs for support, the muscles beneath your fingers tensing with each thrust. His breathing grows heavier, each exhale is a rough pant that tells you how close he is to coming undone.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, his voice strained with lust. “Just a little more.”

With a final, deep thrust, he holds himself at the back of your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his climax. You feel the hot rush of his release, his cum spilling down your throat as he groans your name. You swallow eagerly, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he slowly withdraws.

Sunghoon looks down at you, satisfaction evident in his eyes. He brushes a thumb over your swollen lips, smearing a bit of his cum across them before guiding you to stand. He kisses you deeply, the kiss a mix of dominance and raw need, a reward for your obedience. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting himself, which only drives him deeper into arousal.

The intensity of the kiss deepens, his hands roaming your body with a sense of urgency. He grips your hips, pulling you flush against him, the heat between you igniting. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and with a swift motion, he tears them away, the sound of the fabric ripping only adding to the raw desire between you.

You gasp into his mouth, the sudden exposure sending a thrill through your body. Sunghoon’s hands are everywhere, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your skin. His touch is both possessive and reverent, each movement fuelled by a hunger that matches your own.

It’s wrong, he knows it, he should have stopped it at the spanking; he shouldn’t have started this at all. But when he heard you last night, moaning his name and cumming over the phone to his voice, it erupted a desire in him he hasn’t had for anyone in such a long time. 

Sunghoon has kept you as his assistant selfishly because he knows you are better suited in a lead role somewhere else in the company, your ideas and suggestions invaluable to the work that goes on here. Your potential is wasted by his side but he can’t let you go, not now, not ever.

He has never denied your beauty, a bonus to the intelligence you harbour inside of you. He just could never act on it, knowing that even a slight brush of his hand against yours could send him spiralling out of control.

And that is exactly what is happening now. He started with complete control and now he just wants to fuck you against every surface of his office, make you beg for more, and ruin your pathetic fantasies with the real deal.

Your hands find their way to his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons in your haste to undress him. Sunghoon’s mouth moves to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he helps you, shrugging off his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. Clothes fly and shoes scatter as you both lose yourselves in his office.

His hands grip your waist, lifting you with ease as his lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and over your breasts. Your legs wrap around his torso, seeking friction against the growing hardness pressing against you. You writhe in his hold, your body desperate for more, your arousal slicking his skin as you move to gain any sort of friction on your cunt.

Your mind, much like always, is going to places where he devours you and makes you his, only driving you to complete desperation. All those months of longing for your boss's cock and knowing that it’s simply inches away from your pussy makes you mewl out.

“Sir-”

“You want to beg some more?” he says cockily, smirking as his lips pepper kisses down to your collarbone and just above your top breast. Sunghoon’s mouth finds your nipple, sucking and biting gently, causing a moan to rip from your throat. His teeth are applying just enough pressure to hurt but not scar, tugging and rolling your nipple until you’re begging him.

“Please, Sir, I need you, I need your cock so badly.”

“Yeah? What perverted fantasies are twisted in your mind now?” His question is laced with curiosity and mockery, knowing exactly all the lewd thoughts that could cross your mind. 

His words send a shiver down your spine as he carries and pushes you up against the tall windows of his office. The cool glass contrasts sharply with the fevered heat of your bodies, making you gasp. The city skyline stretches out behind you, a silent witness to your passionate encounter.

He snarls at you, not in a demonic way - although his dark pupils could have fooled you - but no, he’s snarling like an animal looking at his prey, ready to pounce and ravage you in whatever way you want. 

Glancing behind you, you see the city and even though you know you are too high up for anyone to see you, a gleam of embarrassment shines from your face and your naked body cowering into itself as you hide from the outside world.

Noticing your sudden change in manner, Sunghoon scoffs, forcing you to look at him as he brings your face to meet his gaze, pressing you further against the window with his body to ensure you don’t escape. “What’s wrong, Y/N? You didn’t seem to mind an audience last night.”

You whimper, shaking your head. Of course, you didn’t mean to answer his call during your private session, letting lust take over your senses. But you somehow still have a fraction of your senses left, enough to know that drones fly by daily in this city, and what if birds actually do have cameras in their eyes? They could record you and post it on Twitter or something.

Your mind doesn’t just come up with elaborate scenarios for fucking your boss.

Sunghoon sees your focus drift to what-ifs and wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing tightly to draw your attention back to him. His eyes are hooded, and the CEO that you know so well is gone, replaced with a primal man needing to devour you right in front of the city he so proudly claims as his home.

“You think anyone out there cares? Or can even see you?” he hisses, tightening his grip slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. “You wanted these fantasies and I am being more than kind in fulfilling them considering I could have fired you, called HR and made sure you could never work in this industry again. But I’m fair, aren’t I? Generous, almost.”

“Yes, Sir,” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. He has every right to say all of this to you because it’s true; he could have easily fired you and blacklisted you from every marketing company in the country, never mind the city. Yet, here he is, granting you your deepest fantasies and not firing you.

“That’s better,” he growls, his lips crashing down on yours in a bruising kiss. His hand moves from your throat to hoist you up further, so your cunt is in perfect alignment to meet his thrusts.

The cold glass against your back is a sharp contrast to the feverish heat radiating from both of your bodies. The city sprawls out behind you, an array of lights and buildings that seem distant and irrelevant compared to the intense connection you’re sharing with him. Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

His cock slides into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, each thrust a powerful reminder of his control over you, in both business and pleasure. The way he moves, precise and relentless, has your head spinning. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, is overwhelming, but you crave more, arching your body to meet his every thrust. The slick sounds of your bodies coming together are loud in the quiet office, accompanied only by the occasional grunt or moan escaping his lips.

Sunghoon’s eyes are dark, almost predatory, as he watches you. There’s a hint of gratification in his gaze, knowing he has you completely at his mercy. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you to the perfect angle where every thrust hits that sweet spot deep inside you. The pleasure is blinding, white-hot, and it builds with every movement, a tight coil of desire that threatens to snap at any moment.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out, nails clawing into your boss as his hips buck ferociously, the head of his cock dragging against the bumps of your walls so perfectly. It’s like his cock was made for you and you curse your dildo for never preparing you for how intense and good this feels.

His right hand crashes against your cheek, stinging across your skin. You moan out, relishing in the feeling. The CEO just slapped you and you fucking liked it.

“Don’t swear in my office,” he demands, slapping you once more but leaving his hand there to ease the pain. He adores punishment but also soothes you straight after.

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, the window fogging up behind you from the heat of your exertions. The cityscape outside is nothing more than a blur, your world narrowed down to the feel of his cock driving into you, the hard press of the glass against your back, and the delicious ache in your thighs as they wrap around his waist tighter.

“Such a fucking slut,” he murmurs against your ear, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. “Sucking me in so good. Is this what you pictured while you fucked yourself with that pathetic excuse of a dildo? It’s nothing compared to my cock, is it?”

The words send a thrill of humiliation and arousal through you, making your cunt clench tighter around him. Of course, your toy is nothing compared to his long, thick cock. The pink dildo never hits up into your cervix like he does, and it certainly doesn’t bulge out your stomach. You didn’t think dicks like this existed except in books or porn, so to have him filling up every inch of you, is enough to send you reeling into a sex-crazed insanity.

His pace increases, thrusts becoming more forceful, and you can feel the desk beneath you shuddering with the intensity. Each stroke is a blend of pain and pleasure, reminding you that this is a punishment, a lesson you need to be taught.

You can feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of sensation that starts low in your belly and radiates outward, making your toes curl and your vision blur. Sunghoon’s hands move to your ass, lifting you higher, allowing him to drive even deeper. The new angle has you crying out, the pleasure almost too intense, and you bury your face in his shoulder, biting down to stifle your screams.

The rhythm of his thrusts becomes erratic, and you know he’s close too. The thought of him losing control, even just a little, is enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you, a violent wave of pleasure that has you shaking and crying out, your walls spasming around his cock.

He wraps his hand around your neck once again, squeezing tight as he claims you, your euphoria heightening as the air struggles to filter to your lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. I want to be buried inside your tight cunt forever,” the admission throws you off balance, intensifying your high even more. His head rests on your shoulder as you grip his hair and tug at it, nodding in agreement. You never want him to leave, always attached to you in some way.

His words, raw and possessive, echo in your mind, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body. The heat between you is overwhelming, your bodies slick with sweat as the world outside the window fades away, leaving only the two of you in this feverish bubble of desire.

He follows you over the edge, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he empties himself inside you, the sensation of his hot release only prolonging your own pleasure. The feeling of his seed filling you, marking you, sends another wave of ecstasy through your body, your walls spasming around him, milking every last drop.

He stays buried deep within you, his body shuddering with the aftershocks. Even though his muscles ache from holding you up, he doesn’t let you fall, his hands gripping your throat and waist tightly. There’s an intimacy in the way he holds you, a possessiveness that speaks volumes about his intentions.

You’re both panting, the air between you thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Sunghoon’s gaze is still intense, but there’s satisfaction there now, a smug pride in knowing he’s thoroughly claimed you. He doesn’t want to say he owns you, but he definitely is never, ever letting you go.

His eyes scan your flushed face, taking in every detail, the way your lips are parted, the dazed look in your eyes, the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s so glad he called you yesterday and so glad you answered. This, this moment, was worth every risk, every potential consequence. 

Sunghoon slowly pulls out of you, both of you wincing at the loss of connection. He carefully sets you down, your legs shaky as they touch the floor. You lean against the window for support, your body still tingling from the overwhelming pleasure.

“I’ll clean you up and then we need to go to the meeting. My notes?” He asks, the CEO persona in him slipping back into focus almost effortlessly.

“In the L drive of your computer,” you mumble, exhaustion taking over. He fucked you so good all you feel is relaxation in your spent body. You almost forget you have a whole day’s work to complete.

Sunghoon kneels to your limp body, caressing your face gently. “I’ll get you a coffee on the way there, I need you to be alert.” He leans close, his fingers dipping between your sore folds, gathering your mixed juices and plugging them back inside of you. “And you better be ready, I also think I lost the file for your appraisal.”

You shiver, knowing exactly what that means - your sins are far from over...

perm tag: @immortalvee , @snoopypupp, @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull

[tigerpeachs]

Drunk On You - Itadori Yuuji

-`ღ´- tags: 18+, itadorixreader, pet name usage, afab reader, pwp, alcohol consumption, restroom sex, public sex, cream pie 

-`ღ´- wc: 3.1K

-`ღ´- a/n: I didn’t get to go out because my bank account is empty AND there's a dumb storm in my area. So, while bitterly sitting on my phone, I wrote this whole thing in a single text post. Might be errors but fuck it we ball.

-`ღ´- synopsis: Itadori wants to be a protective friend, but he’s still a man and he’d be stupid to let this opportunity slip by. Basically, you go clubbing with the girls and end up creampied in a nasty club restroom. ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 

Itadori Yuji was a man at the end of the day. He wanted to be a friend and a caregiver at all times to those close to him. But he can only handle so much.

He didn’t care much about going out, but when Nobara and you explained it’s important to have a guy around for safety, he begrudgingly agreed to join you guys. He feels a little out of place being the only guy around when Nobara, Maki, and you are slamming back shots while picking out outfits and make up. Sometimes Yuuta makes an appearance but tonight he’s “busy”.

Yuji didn’t believe that for a second. He probably was just sleeping in after lounging around with Toge. The thought was taken off his mind as soon as you strolled over with two shots. Tequila. No lime wedge or salt in sight. He gulped harshly, before meeting your eyes.

“C'mon Yu, please. The girls won’t drink tequila with me.” You whine to him, cheeks already flushed from drinking. He tries to laugh and puts his hand out to push the shot away, but you persist, dropping the glass. Itadori’s hand shot out to catch it. The liquid spilled across his hand and you continued your begging.

“Look! It’s less full now, you don’t even have to take a full one, so please?” You pout and your eyebrows furrowed together in a faux fashion.

He can’t help smiling at how persuasive you were. You just wouldn’t quit, would you?

“You’re gonna get me in trouble! How am I supposed to protect you and DD like this?” He whisper-yells, all to play along with  his role for the night. But yet again, you pushed forward.

“Cmon, Yuu, please? Don’t make me drink alone,” your voice became softer and timid as you said the last part. You batted your eyelashes at him and nudged the shot in his hand up. Itadori always feels warm when you give him attention, and now is no different.

If he took the shot would you leave him? Or would you stay close to him, happy that he listened? Is it manipulative if he wants to do whatever makes you stay close to him?

“We’re leaving in five!” Nobara called out, causing you to gasp.

“Please,” you tried one last time. And Itadori sighed before raising the shot in the air. You smiled with those pink glossy lips and joined him.

Up. Down. Drink.

It wasn’t the worst shot he’s taken but it caused his jaw to tense and his lips pursed together. You laughed at his reaction, getting out a little sympathic “Oh Yu.”

Getting to the club was a blur. He remembers Nobara sitting in the front to control the music while you and Maki sang your hearts out in the back of the car. Then he was in the club, ordering drinks for you all.

He got himself a beer and slowly passed out the drinks. When he turned around, you weren’t there. He sighed in defeat, knowing you probably rushed to the dance floor the moment you heard a solid base drop.

Maki and Nobara, with secured drinks, were already going over to the DJ to request whatever music they wanted. Then there was you, alone in the crowd, twisting and whining your hips to the beat. He hated to admit it, but the way you danced had every guy looking your way, including him.

You rolled your body to the sound, throwing your hair to the side. Your split hem skirt was riding up quickly from the constant up and down your hips and ass did. The bass could be felt through the floor. It resonated in your ribcage as you shook your body. Dropping low, rising again, and you kept your eyes closed knowing any contact made with someone else would result in an unwanted invitation.

It wasn’t until Itadori finally reached you, that you finally let a smile grace your features. He passed you the drink and you tried saying “you didn’t have to” over the music but Itadori pretended not to hear you.

“Hmm?” He questioned and you decided to reach up and grab the nape of his neck. Your fingers slid across his undercut as you pulled him down.

“I said!” You lost your thought as his cologne filled your senses. It made your tongue heavy and you had to swallow before continuing. “I said you didn’t have to!”

Yuji pulled back a little bit to smile at you. “I know that, I wanted to,” he said. The cost of the tab was lower than the cost of some creep trying to hit on you or your friends.

Before you could admit how happy that made you. The intro to your favorite song dropped. You widen your eyes, looking over at the DJ booth to see Maki and Nobara cheering as the song starts. You laugh as other girls in the club start to dance with more vigor. Itadori did his best to raise his drink and stop it from spilling as people started to crowd the floor more.

Soon enough you were wedged between him and other girls. You tried to keep things fun and low risk by making a face and moving your head back and forth to show Itadori you enjoyed the song. He did the same, trying to move in sync with you.

You knew Itadori knew how to dance. You chalked it up to how fit he was but nothing more. You knew he settled with his two steps and light shuffling to the beat for the group's sake. You sipped on your drink, watching him through your lashes.

Eventually you found yourself with you back facing him. Yuji couldn’t help but watch you rock your body back and forth, you whined your hips, tightening and rolling your abdomen. Your ass sat right in front of him, moving up and down. He knew his face was flushed and it wasn’t because of the damn beer he was nursing.

You lose your footing, stumbling back against him. Yuji caught you with a hand on your hip. You looked over your shoulder, locking eyes with him. An unintentional invitation was presented to you both. You could probably blame it on the atmosphere and the alcohol in your system, but you both refused to move back.

You looked forward again. The moves started subtle. A whine with a dip. Itadori watched as you held the same movement for a second, letting him catch up to you. His hand on your hip ran across your front as he pulled you back against him. He rocked side to side, closing his eyes to savor your ass settling on his groin.

He’s supposed to be looking out for you.

Itadori grounds himself as your rock your ass against him. He works to follow your movements, dragging the hand on your hip across your form. He feels hot. His cock was stiffening from the moment you tried to beg him to take a shot with him. He rasped out as you danced on him, causing your ass to shake right on him.

He pulls you up, his chest right against your back. He’s at a loss for words. All he can think about is how fucking good you feel pressing against him. You’re so soft and supple. You smell so good. He tried to make sure moments like this never happened beforehand. He’d opt for other guys coming or making sure your front ways face his front. He’d leave room for Jesus if there was space to do so. 

His best friend was grinding on his fucking dick and he didn’t even care to stop you. He fucking wanted it. He’s wanted it for so long. You stood straight, reaching back with a free hand to grab the nape of his neck again. Itadori looked down at your frame. You didn’t opt to say anything but with his chin hooked over your shoulder, he could see right down your skimpy top.

You boobs jiggled with each move your body made. His hand unconsciously started to drift upwards. His fingers played with the hem of your top. His muddled mind tried to work through everything going on. He felt sensitive. Between the people brushing against you both and you latching on to him, he couldn’t be bothered to recognize what song was playing or how your drink spilled over a few times.

But what he did hear, through the people, through the music, was a little soft whine that you bit off as Itadori teased the skin right under your breast. You wanted more. You wanted him to stuff his fingers down your skirt and feel how wet you are under your clothes. You wanted him to bite and suck on your neck just as you dreamed about doing to him.

He’s supposed to protect you.

Itadori lets your little hands pull at his large form. You slowly push through the crowd towards the nearest restroom. The drinks were long forgotten, dropped into the nearest trash can. The haze from grinding on Yuji didn’t pass, even though you both were separated now. You kept a hand wrapped around his as you knocked at the door in front of you. After a few seconds you rattled the doorknob and noticed it was unlocked.

He knew. He knew if he went in there with you, things would change forever. He swallowed trying to get rid of the irritation in his throat. You opened it slowly, not releasing his hand. Itadori wanted to be good.

He wanted to be a good friend for you. So he finally opened his mouth.

“Do you want me to wait outside?” He offered. But he should’ve known better than to stop you.

You continued to give him that sweet clueless look on your face. You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you started to reach for your skirt, lifting it while saying “You gonna fuck me out here then?”

Itadori rushed to push your hands down, shoving the door open. He slammed you against the door frame the moment it was closed.

It was gross there. The floor is covered in alcohol and piss, the toilet is dirty and the sink has plastic cups collecting in it. The music was muffled through the door but you could still feel the base throughout the building. But neither of you cared as Yuji rutted his hips against yours.

You whined as he kissed your skin and grinded his hips back and forth against you. Your hands gripped at his hair and he wrapped around your ass, pulling you up to his height.

“You want me to fuck you?” Itadori rasped out between the kisses. He swore he could feel how wet your puffy cunt was even through your clothes. “You want my dick? Hmm?” He pressed forward. You whimpered instead of answering.

“Talk to me, pretty,” he begged. His hips halted and he pulled his face back to look at you.

Oh fuck.

Your eyes were glassy and your lip gloss tempted him under the crappy lighting. You looked like you were on the verge of tears from all this unintentional teasing.

“Please, Yu, i'm so,” you hiccuped and your hands grabbed at him for emphasis. “I’m so wet, please fuck me. Pretty please?” Yuji groaned before leaning in. He slotted his mouth right over your plump ones. You moaned and reached down for his cock. Your sloppy hands did their best, and after consistently fumbling, you finally got his belt undone.

You sighed into his kiss, letting his tongue overtake yours. His lips moved in motion with yours, tongue swiping over yours every time you pressed forward. Yuji tried to slide a leg underneath your cunt but you finally remembered the task at hand. You went back to fumbling with the button of his pants and moaned when you finally got them undone.

Itadori could faint from feeling your fingers urgently searching for his dick. He knew his tip was leaking in his underwear. He’s been hard for too long and he can’t wait to feel you wrapped around him. He’s jerked off so many times wondering about how good that pussy would feel on his fingers. On his tongue. Oh fuck and especially on his cock.

Yuji opted to hold you back with one hand, tugging down his underwear and pants down just enough that his cock was free. Within seconds your skirt was bunched around your waist, panties slipped to the side and finally his tip caught on your entrance.

“Oh fuck me,” You rasped out as he worked the first inch inside of you. He was big. Your best friend Itadori was fucking big. Without thinking, Yuji drops your pussy on his clock. Your whole body seizes up as you force your head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Yuji sputtered your name as he bottomed out. Every fucking ridge of his cock was engulfed in your warm wet pussy. He could feel your slick dripping down his balls. He grabbed at your ass to ground himself. You both dropped your mouths in awe. Your whole body felt like it was subjected to this moment.

You clamped down and gasped as Yuji tried to move forward. He gritted his teeth, rubbing his forehead against yours. “Don’t, fuck, don’t tighten up like that, I’m trying not to cum right now.” His admittance caused you to grip him more. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, nails running across his undercut like before. You finally met his warm eyes, and blushed at the expression on his face.

You’ve seen Itadori in awe a lot. He’s someone who enjoys life at every moment. His smile was infectious and he’s adored things before, but the look he was giving you caused something deep inside you to flip over and over again.

“You okay?” He asked. Itadori was a man. As much as he wanted to slam into you, he was also your friend. He cared for you unlike anyone else.

You sniffled before responding.

“Yeah… just not used to something so big.”

He laughed at that, resting his forehead against you as you continue to rub at his undercut. Didn’t he tell you he wasn’t trying to cum too fast inside you?

“You’re such a sweet talker,” he gets out before kissing your cheek. “Am I okay to move, pretty?”

“Mmhm” you get out, recognizing the initial stretch has passed. “Please need you too,” you get out right as he pulls his hips back. From the first thrust the nerves in your body and firing off. Your pussy feels so raw, each thrust working you open more and more. You felt so full. You felt consumed by him.

Small moans slip from your lips as Itadori works into a regular pattern. You feel him circle his hips as he enters and exits your core. The added motion built more wetness from you.

“Fuck, just like that, Yu,” you whimper digging your nails into him. Itadori had a hard time concentrating. You were gripping him from all over. Your hands tugged at his shirt, trying to ground yourself. Your arms were wrapped around him, keeping him close. And your pussy, fuck, it felt like it never wanted him to leave. 

You moaned at every thrust he made, those sweet lips prompting him to keep going. His hands slid from your ass to your thighs, he pinned you against the door and pulled back enough to look down. You whined at the loss of contact but followed his eyes down.

He continued to fill you. Rocking his hips with intention instead of mindlessly thrusting inside your sweet pussy. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, face scrunching up in pleasure.

You dropped your mouth open, letting out a loud moan at the sight. His cock was fucking soaked. Your juices covered everything from his abdomen, shaft, and balls, all the way to your folds, clit, thighs, and even the sorry excuse for panties that you had on. He whined at how you tightened up at the sight.

“Like watching me fuck you?” He questioned only for you to moan and nod in response. You tried your best to thrust your lower half forward in Yuji’s vice-like grip. Your best friend's dick felt soooo good digging in your guts. 

“Mmhm, fuck me, Yu. Don’t stop,” you cried out as he picked up his pace. Yuji leaned back in, watching your face as he continued to fuck you just how you like. He was stretching you out so good. The friction he provided had your toes pointed and nerves on edge. You felt your stomach tightening up with each thrust he worked in.

“I’m close,” you get out softly. Itadori groaned. You were gonna cum on his cock. He couldn’t wait. He needed you to. He piston his hips, locking his lips against yours again. The feeling of his tongue teasing yours along with his bruising pace had you whining.

“Fuck, Yu,” you tried to get out between kisses and moans. He nodded, sliding his lips against yours in the motion.

“I know, I know, me too, baby,” he grits out. Soon you felt that band inside you snap. Your nails dug into his skin as your body seized up. You threw your head back, and couldn’t help but close your eyes at the pleasure shot up your spine throughout your whole body.

Yuji felt his balls tighten and fucking groaned feeling you clench and milk his dick. He was cumming. He was cumming hard right inside your pussy. The thought made his dick throb as you continued to clench and clamp down on him.

“Fu-uck, oh god,” Itadori cried out as you moaned. His sperm felt so good, warm and soothing against your beaten walls. You felt yourself calm down first, petting Yuji's jaw to bring him back to you. You kissed at his sweaty forehead humming as he pulled you up.

A pop sound resonated in the restroom, followed by Itadori’s moan. Fuck, you’d be the death of him. He finally set you down, wincing at the sight of your thighs covered in bruises from his fingertips. His eyes trailed upwards to look at your swollen pussy. A mix of cum dripped from your gaping hole. You shuddered as you slid your panties back in place and tried to fix your skirt.

Yuji hissed as he grabbed at his cock, and slipped it back in his pants. Before he could apologize in the post sex haze you’re giving him that sweet smile again.

And something tells him that you’re going to persist with getting him wrapped around your fingers again.

[bunnys-kisses]

the sun's lullaby & the moon's symphony

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, photography, snark & sass, enemies to lovers (i guess), parental issues, secret relationship, talks of marriage & children, cowgirl position, admissions of love, long fic

this bunny runs on comments, reblog & tags! do you part to feed the bunny! (this was a thrill to write, i've been writing a lot of rivals au, so feel free to suggest your own! i also still have my bakery series going on, so feel free to order up. love ya'll)

this all started when you were teens. stubborn and stupid. the two prodigies of racing of two different stories. the moon, who was raised from birth to be the god of racing. and the sun, who emerged from nothing and up towards the sky to claim her rightful spot as a champion of the track.

the sun and the moon. you and max verstappen

so when you shared your first kiss with him at sixteen over a stolen a bottle of wine from your parent's fridge. you knew that you'd be forever link to the other driver.

it was over dinner in monaco, the lighting of the place was low. and max was seated across from you. occasionally his foot would rub up against your ankle.

you looked at him over the glass of wine in your hand, "you're not going to make me say it."

he smiled as he swallowed his bite of food, "why, prefer to tell me in private?" belgium was a great weekend for him, opposed to you. max sailed into second while you dragged behind in eighth.

but even at dinner, you'd never give the red bull driver the benefit, you'd rather have your bones wrung out of you like liquid in a rag than admit that max was good at racing. that would be the final pump of his ego that he'd go sailing away.

you put your glass down and rested your chin on your interlocked fingers, "maxie." you fluttered your eyelashes at him, "maybe if you came in first, i'd actually have something to congratulate you on." you reached across the small table and touched the inside of his wrist, you looked at the part of exposed flesh then to his face once more. you pouted at him, "second is the first place of losers."

he gave you a sarcastic smile before he took his wrist away, "and what about you, i thought you were supposed to be the rabbit on the track. out racing all of us. i guess daddy's money can only buy so much talent."

"you're a fucking dick, verstappen."

he shrugged, "and yet, you can't get enough of me. a glutton for punishment you are." his eyebrows knitted together as he frowned for a moment, "i think you're just trying to find daddy's approval, except that fucker won't give it to you. just like you won't give me what i want." he reached for you and cupped the side of your face. it was moments like these you remembered how big his hands were, "break the cycle, rabbit. be a good girl."

you pulled away from him, you heard the shutter of a camera and you both looked over. you grimaced, perfect. another photo to the collection of you and max in compromising positions. without context you looked like a pair on a date. you could already read out the statement you'd have to make if this all got a little too big.

you kicked max under the table, "good job, dickhead." your voice was painfully low.

he kicked you back, but not as hard, "you started it."

this night would end the same. the photo would go semi-viral. you'd have to lay low on social media for a few days. wash, rinse, repeat when you two eventually fuck up again. and like every other dinner together, it ended up with you two in his bed. those broad hands all over your back as you rode him. you held his face and looked down at him as you bounced your hips.

photographic evidence of you two together were vast, spanning close to ten years at that point. you both met in your carting days, with promises to make it to formula one. the photos only got more intense once you both entered the league.

they ranged from the two of you at a party together, or sneaking out a club holding hands. there was one of you on his boat, handing him a drink and what looked like him kissing you on the cheek. there were tons of his arm around you and your face buried in his broad chest. over the years the "evidence" had been piling up to suggest that you two were a couple.

if that was true, then why did you want to strangle max verstappen?

you stalked towards his driver's room after the dutch grand prix and opened the door without knocking. you felt fury in your bones as he looked at you. you put your hands on his throat and got close up into his face.

"you fucking asshole, you really are the devil aren't you, max?" you snapped. you weren't choking him, but rather holding him as a sign of dominance.

he grabbed your wrists and said, "and you're going to kill me now? i didn't think choking was your style." then pulled your hands away from his throat, "people might get the wrong idea if you start leaving marks."

"you ran me off the track. you knew what you were doing when you cut me off like that. you think you're so slick there, verstappen. is it because you're old man was there? wanted to show off to the pathetic excuse of a driver! fuck you, max. i didn't need the dnf because you needed to be a show off to daddy dearest, you piece of shit!" you knew you were just ranting, you sounded like a rambling mess but you wanted to win this.

through your rambling, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips, he didn't move when you tried to hit him in the chest. when he pulled away he held you by the back of the head, "it's all part of the game. you told me you'd rather be flayed than have me go easy on you. i'm treating you like every other driver. don't get mad."

you took a heavy breath before you pulled him in and kissed him on the mouth once more. he smirked against the kiss and wrapped his arms around you tightly. he held you close to him as you passionately made out with him.

when you pulled away, he said, "feel better now?"

you gripped onto the front of his shirt and deeply exhaled, "i could kill you and get away with it." then looked at him. his blue eyes always seemed to stare right into your soul. because maybe you two were bound by your souls, meant to exist in each other's orbit until the day you die.

he loosely kept his arms around you waist and pressed his forehead up against you, "i know. and i'd happily die by your hand." when he was tender like this, you wanted to bite his head off. but instead you simply let him hold you.

"you're an ass, verstappen." you muttered as you clung to the front of his uniform, "i hate that you know me so well and can get under my skin so easily."

he chuckled and held you closer, "i'm pretty sure you can map out every scar on my body and where i got it."

"like that time i accidentally stabbed you in the rib with a corkscrew." you said.

he nodded, "yeah and that time i fell down your stairs at your old home and you, me and charles had to figure out if my foot was broken."

you looked up at him and pressed your chin against his chest to look up at his face, "you really should've gone to the doctor for that. like two of your toes were purple."

"i lived." he then held you face for a brief moment before there was a knock on the door and you two stepped back from one another. he patted you on the arm before he shuffled you to the couch to act more casual than what you were just doing.

at least no one took any photos of you moment of romantic intimacy. in all fairness, what photos the press had of the two of you. was nothing compared to the photos max personally had of the two of you. everything from you in his driver's suit with nothing underneath (and the zipper open), to videos of you giving him head. he even had a video you took of him eating you out.

max had mapped every inch of skin with his lips and tongue over the years. from the plane of your back to behind your ear, the back of your knee and in between your legs. he could probably trace your body from memory with his lips. there was a likely chance you could do the same about him.

it continued on into the last night in the netherlands. the room max was staying in was lovely. you assumed only the best for the country's golden boy. you had come over after dinner and max was more than happy to see you.

you were seated by the big window with your feet propped up against the window ledge. in your hand was a glass of wine and you felt content watching the city go by as night hung in the sky. max was in the shower, so you were keeping yourself company.

you heard the shower turn off and you put the glass of wine down on the window ledge before he came out. even now, seeing max's cock made you look away to preserve some modesty.

you hoped that your expression didn't give it away. as he walked out naked with him rubbing the towel in his hair. to see him so exposed made your heart jump.

"like what you see?" he asked. he went over to the bed and got onto it, "i'm sorry for keeping you waiting."

you shot him a look, "i can't believe you convinced me to do this. is this a way for you to inflate your ego even more? you won this race and now you want to stick your cock in the one you drove off the track! and you didn't even get punished for it!" you wanted to stop your foot like a child out of sheer anger.

he chuckled, "well, you're free to come and go. i'm not forcing you to do anything... i certainly didn't force you to wear that dress either." his gaze on you was hot and it made you more flustered.

"i wanted something i could replace if you tore it." never forget when you had to replace your driving suit because someone got a good hold of it and ripped it at the seams around your pussy and ass.

call max impatient, it wasn't like your team couldn't afford it. if they couldn't he could always make room for you at red bull. he had to look after you.

"then i suggest you take it off before i start getting my hands on you." he spread his legs a little wider on the bed. the towel was on the floor to be hung up later, "last chance, my treasure. i want to hear you say it... you want me."

you reached behind you to get the zipper down. you'd rather die, but his heated gaze was enticing. you instead replied, "i want to ride you max, i want you under me as i fuck the daylights out of you. it is not a want, it is a need."

max barked out a laughter, "always so poetic." then licked his lips when you stepped out of the dress you wore. letting it grow wrinkled on the floor. it was followed by the expensive matching pair of bra and panties.

"did i buy that for you?" he asked curiously. he prone to sending you gifts in the off-season. while the rest of the drivers got joke gifts between each other. max always handed you something with a price tag that would make most gawk at.

you looked down at the matching set. you shrugged, "i honestly couldn't tell you. the brand it italian so, maybe it was a gift from charles." you made a face as you thought about it. it was all a lie, it was obviously from max.

the idea of charles even knowing your bra size felt weird, but with max it felt normal.

something crossed max's face as he leaned a little forward, his arms crossed along his toned chest, "funny. you're quite the comedian.' he raised his eyebrows at you, "so tell me, does leclerc fuck better than i do? is there other men i should know about? i heard you went on a boat trip with zak brown, is he getting action too? whore."

you made a face, "you're a possessive fuck, verstappen." you swallowed, "and if it strokes your ego, no. i'm not fucking anyone else because if i tried to fuck someone else i think you'd make their death look like an accident." you stepped forward, "if i told you that i was getting action from anyone, could be a random man. you'd kill them!"

max puffed out his chest for a moment in defiance, "really? what about that lovely girl, that reporter during our first year in formula one. you saw one picture and got the wrong idea. you left you crying. so don't act like i am so mean man." he uncrossed his arms as you got closer.

"she was going to use you, max. i knew it. you were so eager to be loved by someone, she would've taken advantage of you."

max sighed and braced his arms behind him. the two of you were naked and you were bickering. he said, "then name someone who won't take advantage of me."

you got onto the bed, your hand on his chest. you could feel the quickened pace of his heart. you said softly, lips close to his, "me." before you pulled him flat onto the bed and started to make out with him.

he loved the sound of that. when the kiss was broken, he watched you straddle his waist. if max verstappen was going to pick any lover, it was going to be the woman who drove him crazy on and off the track. someone he pushed him to be the best.

but in glimmers of tenderness, a soft underbelly. max knew that you loved him. and he loved you. it was just the words got all mixed up from the brain to the tongue.

i love you often became i'm going to beat you.

you sank onto his cock and hissed a little bit from the stretch. you held onto his shoulders for leverage while he guided you with his hands on your hips. your stomach flipped as you got fully seated on him.

"beautiful."

"shut up, max."

"never. not for you."

it was mushy, emotional in a way that made you core throb. a vulnerability that made you run hot. you rolled your hips against him, his cock nudged against the softest parts of you and it made your back arched.

max eventually got himself up against the headboard to feel closer to you. his hands left your hips and started to palm at your breasts. he soon leaned in for kissed along the soft skin. even his tongue dragged across your nipples, which only made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"you always feel beautiful." he said, "no one else has been like you." he had changed so much since you met, ten years of this. the back and forth.

it made you chest clenched. you could only imagine what would happen if all this came out. but, in fairness you couldn't keep it behind the doors of hotel rooms forever. the minor controversies of the two of you in each other's grasp.

you hated to admit it. but you loved max verstappen. he was as much a part of you as you were of him. racing was in your blood, but the draw towards each other. a twin flame.

he'd almost run you off the track, you'd get into his face. he'd buy you dinner and you'd slink off to his room. away from prying eyes, the two of you would make love. or at the very least a primal kind of sex that left your head spinning.

it was a game, one to shield feelings. but as you moved your hips against him. it became more obvious that you were both under a delusion. you thought he didn't know that you loved him and he though you didn't know that he loved you.

but was obvious. as you moved and he touched you. you two knew each other too well. it was an obsession and you had long since pushed past the line of enemies.

enemies didn't look at each other like they wanted to devour one another. max verstappen didn't think of lewis hamilton or charles leclerc when he saw engagment rings in shop windows. you didn't think of george russell or oscar paistri when saw expensive wrist watches. you didn't have dreams in your early adult years of you dressed in wedding white and alex albon beaming at you, and max didn't jerk off to a vast collection of nude photos of lando norris. you two were in your own little orbit.

you panted heavily as you continued to move. the feeling were growing as you felt the throb in your chest. you ranked your fingers down his chest.

"max." you panted.

"yes."

you pulled him by his face up for another kiss as you continued to move against him. you moaned into the kiss, and he in turn whimpered against you. the feeling was prodding at just the right parts of his brain.

you were beautiful and it drove him wild.

"i'm glad no one else can have you." max said softly, tinged with tenderness, "they wouldn't know how to handle a woman like you."

you held his face for a moment and looked into his eyes, "oh yeah and you're an easy ride too." then pulled him in for another searing kiss.

he held onto your hips and guided you quickly against him. both of you working for a common goal (for one).

you braced your hands on his bare chest to give yourself support and continued your movements. a few more heavy thrusts of your hips before you leaned down and kissed him on the lips. your cunt tight around him as the wash of lust came over you. you came, then he came. and it both left you exhausted and breathless.

you yelped a little when max grabbed you by the middle and pulled you on the beside beside him. he peppered your face with kisses and you felt hot all over. your heart leapt at the feeling of him holding you. his softening cock up against you.

"you're beautiful."

"max." you said softly, the heat still in your cheeks.

he held you, your head against his chest. one of his hands was on the back of your head while the other was interlocking his fingers with yours. you were gravitated towards the sounds of his heartbeat.

you sighed, "i fear i have to admit something to you, verstappen."

he perked up a little, "oh?"

you sighed and raised your head. your hair was a mess and you looked tired from the long day on the track and the longer night together. you said, "this isn't me showing weakness. if you mistake what i am going to say as weakness, then you have another thing coming."

he looked at you with raised eyebrows and asked, "what is it?"

you rubbed his broad chest and said in quiet voice, "max. i'm in love with you. and i have been for some time." you swallowed, diverting your eyes from him, "i think we suck as rivals. i think we need to become lovers, for real. even if we don't tell the press and give them that satisfaction. to be able to call you mine is all i would want."

he took you by the chin and pressed a kiss against your lips. your heart jumped and when he pulled away, he said quietly in return as if it were a secret, "i'd want nothing more. i think we're about to save the whole grid anymore headaches."

-

driving felt like a lifetime ago, as did the rivalry you and max shared. the day after max retired, he posted two pictures online. the first one had basically been scrubbed from the internet, except on max's phone. it was you two in your first year of formula one. your legs draped over his lap while he took a selfie of you two kissing. the second was a similar pose, years later. when the charade was over and you two finally admitted your feelings to one another.

in the caption he made a cheeky comment about how the two of you probably weren't as careful as you thought. but, that was being young and dumb. when you retired two years later, with two championships under your belt. you posted a photo of the small wedding you had a year prior.

your caption read, "call me mrs. verstappen and we're going to have a problem." you had simply hyphened your last names. which was then passed onto your son that you had a year after your retirement.

"niko." max was as he tried to wrangle his son, he eventually hoisted the little boy up, "you have to put on a life jacket, remember?" he smiled at his son, "you have to listen to mama, nicholas." he reminded his son.

the little boy nodded rapidly as max carried him onto the boat. you had lunch packed in a bag while max carried the rest of the stuff needed as well. the three of you were going for a little boat ride for the afternoon.

max made sure that his son was secure in a life jacket while you put the bag you were carrying down. you took a seat and picked up your son. you felt max's eyes lingering on you.

"what?" you asked half-jokingly.

max smiled, "i love you." he seemed lighter now, he had all the trophies he could ever need.

"i love you too." you responded, a phrase you had said a thousand times at least. to think that there was a period of time that the idea of loving him would've made you pull your hair out. you then kissed youe son on the cheek, "but i love you more, nico."

the little boy laughed and max winked at you before he went to get the boat started. while you busied yourself getting sunscreen on your son, you held your smile.

the media circus around you two eventually died now. there was no draw to mystery of your relationship, it also didn't help that the two of you kept nicholas out of the public eye. it left you both retired with your son. you'd sometimes think about how you were all those years earlier, when max was still your 'rival'. but, in all fairness, even if you two did stand toe-to-toe with one another and pushed one another into racing greatness. he was a better husband and father than he ever was a rival.

the sun, the moon and their little star.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

Hello, may I request a #15 with Sergei Kravinoff from the prompts?

Thank you.

You got it hon. I hope this hits the spot for you. ★

𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

Sergei Kravinoff x Submissive!F!Reader

◢ Genre: Prompt Request — Suitable For Adults Only. Minors will be blocked.

◢ Warnings: 18+ only, please. AFAB Reader. PWP (maybe slight plotting, mostly smut). Angst. The reader is referred to as a property of sorts. Submissive reader. Reader being defiant. Being dominated by Sergei. Manhandling of the reader. Sexual Choking (don't try unless you know what you are doing). Ripping clothes off reader. P-in-V. Dirty Talk. Orgasm denial. Internal ejaculation.

◢ Word Count: 1.6K

◢ A/N: Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated. And I am always down to hear what you think.

2K Follower Prompt List

"I'm not your property." You spit at him, an anger in your voice that continued the argument that was already going on. Sergei turns to look at you. There was confusion on his face. His brow furrows heavily. The tension in his shoulders spreads through his body. He lets out a heavy breath, and you can see the way his muscles move heavily with movements. The Russian was taken aback by your words.

"Since when?" He growls at you. "Since I say so. I'm in charge of me. Not you."

Sergei blinks, his head tilting slightly. He was trying to process your words, and they weren't sinking in. Since the start of your relationship with him, it had been clear where your place was with him. He was in charge. He says jump and you are supposed to say 'yes sir, how high'. But today, he might have struck a nerve with you that sent you into this state. Maybe you just needed a good reminder of how this relationship with him worked. Reaching up, Sergei runs his fingers over his lips, thinking.

"You have one chance to correct yourself." He says.

Those were words you had never heard out of his mouth. But your arms crossed in defiance. You stand your ground, putting your foot down on the matter. He could read the brat in your body language. It would be a lie to say that a part of him wasn't turned on by it. You were normally such a good girl, and here you were with your big girl panties on thinking that you could call the shots simply because you were frustrated with him. Angry even. Eventually, he might realize that he was an asshole, but right now the only thing he could focus on was putting you back into your place. To hear you moaning and pining for him like the simple creature you are.

It's a matter of seconds and his left hand is around your throat. He catches you off guard and you reach up, grabbing at his arm. Your eyes go wide, but you don't feel unsafe. You have never felt unsafe with the man, and truthfully he'd never hurt you. Not in a way you didn't enjoy, anyway. You can feel his fingers pressing into the sides of your neck. He's limiting the blood flow, causing you to feel a weirdly euphoric feeling. You tense and relax at the same time. His eyes meet yours with an intense stare and before you have the chance to respond, Sergei is gripping your shirt with his free hand. You hear the sound of ripping fabric from your body. He shreds it with ease, removing it from your body, and exposing your upper half.

A slight smirk comes to his face. You can see the corner of his mouth twitch slightly at the sight of you like this. He likes it, feeling the authority over you coursing through his veins like a slight adrenaline high. He backs you up against the wall, his hand pinning you by your neck to it. His free hand goes to your panties, ripping the sides of them and removing them from you. You feel as thin fabric slides down the inside of your legs and to the floor at your feet. For that brief moment, you both stare at each other.

It wasn't the first time you had been manhandled by the brute, but it was the first time in this situation. You feel your mind slipping into a state of submission, realizing that he was about to correct the poor choice of words that came from you. The hand against your throat loosens slightly before it tightens again. His free hand moves to his black pants, freeing himself from it. Sergei's hard, already at attention, and aching to remind you exactly where you belong. You can feel your mouth water in anticipation and you're already becoming slick between your legs. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The emotions went from angry and frustrated to, utter desire to feel that correction. All it took was the simple actions of a hand around your throat and that piercing gaze to lock with yours.

His movements are quick as you feel the hand go from your throat to your hips. He lifts you up with ease, positioning you quickly so that he can thrust himself up into you. You feel a wave of heat wash over your body as your skin becomes sensitive. He fills you quickly, bringing your hips to his as his entire length presses into you. He slams you against the wall slightly, growling as he feels the way your body flexes around him. You let out a moan that causes Sergei to growl against the crook of your neck. This wasn't about you, but he still wanted to hear those moans. They fueled him to start pumping into with an aggressive nature.

Your hands go to brace themselves, but you feel like you don't know where to put them. They grip his arms, his shoulders. You try and hold on as he starts to pump away. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room. You can't contain the noises coming from your lips as you start to moan louder, and louder with each almost slightly painful thrust between your legs. He was using your hole for his own pleasure, making sure you were aware that it was his. Your body is his. Your mind is his. He was going to do with it as he pleased. You weren't going to stand there and tell him that you weren't his. You brought out that deeply primal dom in his body, he was making sure you felt it and knew it.

The louder you became, the harder he started to thrust. You could feel the base of him meeting at your swollen cunt, that tease of sensation that caused your body to tremble in his strong grip. He noticed it, growling at you slightly. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and lower ass with every intention of leaving little painful bruises for you to remember later.

"Don't you dare cum." He growled into your ear. "You haven't earned that." He added.

"But..." You went to plead with him as your tone whimpers for him. Were you even going to be able to stop yourself from doing that? He growled again, pressing you against the wall a little more. His head shakes with a no.

"Whose hole is that?" He asks deeply, groaning slightly. "Y-yours!" You cry out, feeling a hard thrust up into you. "Say it again." He snaps at you. "It's yours! My hole is yours!" You say, your fingers pressing into his skin as you continue to try and brace yourself.

He growls again, moaning at the end of it, almost as if he was approving of what was said without having to say it. He adjusts himself slightly, moving your weight so that he can stop thrusting. He moves your body for you, bouncing you along his length with such ease, his hand bracing you with your thighs a little more. He was using you, every bit of you for his own satisfaction. You could feel the tension in his shoulders and arms. You can tell there were bruises already starting to form from his fingers.

You do your best to hold off a finish, feeling as sweet spots were hit. Your body can't help but tremble, which adds fuel to his fire. He bounces you faster, harder, using how he moved your body to milk himself into you. Being with him long enough made it easy to read his body language, and he was starting to reach that finish with a goal in mind. You wanted so badly to finish with him, to finish at all, but the idea of him telling you that you weren't allowed sent a need through your mind. Let him use you, let him get that point across and maybe, just maybe you can earn a finish later.

Sergei's growling and moaning become more intense, becoming more frequent as he feels that building pressure. He wasn't holding back. That wasn't the point of any of this. He was going to be clear about where you stood in this relationship with him. He felt that heavy twitch in his cock, and his fingers press even harder into your skin as he braces you against the wall once more and buries himself deeply in between your legs. Your fingers press into his skin, nails digging into him as you fight off the urge to finish with him. You can feel his seed start to fill you, the warmth of it seeping out between the flesh that met his. He pressed as deeply as he could, twitching heavily as he made sure you took every last drop of him.

A hand moves back to your neck as he pulls from you. There is a mess between your legs, you can feel it. He lowers you back to your feet, the hand moving to grip your jaw and he forces you to look deeply into his eyes. At first, there is silence. You both stare at each other as he observes the way you are going to react to him, to all of this. There is no negative reaction, maybe a slight look of shock, but you can feel this deeper connection with him. That frustrated brat mode had faded away, and you're putty in his hands.

"You're mine." He says, making sure that the words are loud and clear. "You're mine in every sense of the term. Don't think I am done correcting you. I'm not."

Extra Tags: @voxmortuus

[miupow]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓。⧼ 𝐒. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 ⧽

★ pairing。seo changbin x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! friends to lovers , non-idol au , college au , roommate!changbin , stoner!changbin , marijuana and alcohol mentions , mentions of infidelity/cheating , rebounds , virginity loss , blood mention (cherry popping) , dirty talk , oral (f. rec) , size kink , praise kink , pet names , possessive behavior , squirting , high sex , inexperienced reader , experienced changbin , hair pulling , unprotected sex , resolved sexual tension

★ synopsis。your roommate, close friend and plug invites you over for a yearly halloween tradition, and also to help you forget about your cheating ex boyfriend.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! the ending is a little rushed because i wanted to make sure this was out before halloween... i'm sorry if it's bad ! ! [ 4. 0k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you stare at the text messages, rereading them a few times just to make sure you understood him right— you hadn’t spoken much to changbin at all in the last few weeks or so, especially not about your plans for that night, and part of you had been convinced that he had to have forgotten. but you should have known better than to think that about him, your roommate’s texts left unanswered as you try to hide your phone from your nosy manager. changbin would never forget something like tonight, a tradition the two of you have had since you first had moved in together, reminders everywhere from the candy on sale down to the cheap paper decorations hung up around the grocery store you worked at— it was halloween tonight, your favorite holiday, and since your freshman year of college you and changbin had set a tradition of smoking your weights in weed and watching shitty old horror movies. it was something you looked forward to every year, but this time around you couldn’t conjure up much excitement at all.

you haven’t had much excitement for anything, really, not since the fraternity changbin was pledged to hosted their yearly halloween party earlier that month. it was supposed to be a night of drinking and fun, a celebration of both the season and changbin’s best friend and frat leader chan’s birthday, but your night— and, possibly, the rest of your year— had been ruined in seconds of opening that bathroom door. because there against the sink you had found your boyfriend of four years balls deep inside your best friend.

in retrospect, you were glad you hadn’t needed to pee, because you might have pissed all over the floor in shock.

ever since, you’ve been moving through your life as though you were on autopilot, a mindless zombie as you trudged from your classes to work, from work straight to your bed. you didn’t want to give yourself time to dwell on what you were feeling, instead throwing yourself into your busy schedule to keep you distracted; you had just lost both a friend you had trusted more than anyone and the love of your life in one painful blow, and in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from falling apart entirely, you shut yourself off completely. your trust had crumbled to the point you didn’t want to confide in anyone at all, even to changbin, who you’ve always run to for comfort when you needed it the most.

the two of you had been as thick as thieves since you had first met, his silly and outgoing personality quickly worming its way into your heart— before you could even process it he had become more than just your roommate and your plug for good weed, but one of your closest friends. you’ve told him all your secrets, your dreams and worst fears, poured your heart out to him in a way that you never had with anyone before. he’s your shoulder to cry on that night at the party, cradling you against his broad chest as you soak his tee shirt in tears. he holds you that entire night, only leaving you to get something you wanted. never before had you felt so cared for in your life; not by a man, not by your ex. the intimacy overwhelmed you, and since that morning after you hadn’t said much to each other besides hello. he seems to understand that you need space and left you alone for the most part, but you can see in the way he shoots you lingering sidelong glances that he’s been growing more and more worried about you by the day. while you feel terrible about shutting him out like this, you don’t know any other way to cope. you had locked away your feelings for changbin nearly half a decade ago, and in the span of one night it all came flooding back. it confused your mind and your broken heart, and you needed time alone to think things over.

but you haven’t been doing much thinking. truthfully, you’ve been doing the complete opposite, busying yourself with work and your studies so the point that you didn’t have the time to think anything at all. when halloween came quickly approaching, you ignored it the best you could. betrayal stung like an open wound, all of your pain exposed and raw while everyone celebrates around you. the pit in your stomach grew every passing day, to the point that you felt nauseous— your tummy flips uncomfortably as you type out a reply and delete it repeatedly.

as much as you wanted to spend your night hiding in your room, you didn’t have the heart to skip out on changbin. he would understand, you knew he would, but the idea of disappointing him over something this important hurt nearly as bad as your breakup did.

you’re a big girl, you remind yourself, tapping on your cellphone’s keyboard once again, big girls don’t run away from their problems.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

changbin is already high when you make it home, skunk smoke billowing in your face when you open the front door. you toe off your shoes and join him in the living room, your roommate’s short body sprawled out on the couch as he flips through tv stations— his unfocused red eyes light up at the bag of candy you toss onto the coffee table, immediately abandoning his blunt in the ashtray to reach for the bright packaging.

“what ever happened to ‘hello’? ‘how are you’?” you tease, setting down the case of beers you promised. “i go through all this trouble, and this is the greeting i get?”

changbin’s already stuffed a few candies in his mouth, flashing you a dopey grin as he picks back up the joint to offer it to you. “bad day, huh?”

“just tired.” you reply shortly, taking the blunt from changbin’s outstretched hand before flopping down on the couch beside him with a heavy sigh. your head quickly found its usual spot in the crook of his shoulder, your lips wrapping around the blunt to take a long, deep hit as you curl up against his side. the familiar scent of changbin’s cologne envelopes you like a warm blanket, easing all the nerves that thrummed just under your skin— he wraps his arm around your shoulders without a word, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin as you blow smoke into the air. you couldn’t for the life of you understand why you were so hesitant to come home anymore, changbin tearing down your walls in seconds without even having to say a word. it was so, so dangerous to be around him when your heart ached like it did, especially with how it skips a beat every time he lets out a content little hum. you meet his red-rimmed, hazy eyes when you pass the blunt back to him, giving him a wobbly, unsure smile; changbin just shakes his head and giggles, the endearing way in which he scrunches up his nose just adding to the heaviness in your chest.

your ex hated it when the two of you hung out like this. he threw a fit every time, accusing you of sneaking around with changbin behind his back, never listening when you repeated over and over again that you were just friends.

you aren’t even his type, you think to yourself, that bitterness you’ve kept stored away rearing its ugly head. you were nothing at all like the countless girls that came and went through changbin’s life and his bed.

“c’mon, talk to me.” changbin presses play on some old shitty slasher movie you’re pretty sure you’ve seen before. “tell me what’s going on in that cute ‘lil head of yours.”

“everything is just… a lot, right now.” you admit, snuggling against him. like a dam breaking, all the words you’ve thought over the past few weeks overflow and spill out— you tell changbin everything you’ve been hiding from him, how you feel like your supervisor is always breathing down your neck, how overwhelmed and paralyzed you’ve felt working extra hours to distract yourself from your broken heart. while the horror movie plays in the background you tell him all about how halloween has felt more to you like a funeral than a holiday, the campy screams from the tv oddly fitting background noise for how you were feeling… especially with how your ex refusing to let you go quietly.

“he won’t leave me alone, bin,” you groan, taking another deep hit off the blunt. it had gone out from all your talking, but changbin was quick to relight it for you as you pressed it between your lips. “he keeps texting and calling, apologizing and telling me he loves me… i don’t know how much more i can take.”

changbin curls his lip, tossing his lighter onto the coffee table. “why are you even answering him? just block that asshole already.”

“i dunno—”

“he never treated you right anyway. piece of shit. you should to be treated like a princess, like a queen— fuck anyone who breaks your heart. he doesn’t deserve you.”

“i can’t believe he would do this…” you sniffle, trying your best not to cry. “he told me we were going to be together forever, that we were going wait until marriage… and then he goes and does this?!”

“wait, wait—” changbin interrupts, his red eyes widening. “what about waiting until marriage?”

you look up at him oddly. “he wanted to save ourselves for virginities for our wedding night. sanctioned by the lord and all that. i’m so stupid, believing his pastor’s son bullshit… i should have known it was too good to be true.”

“you’re not stupid,” changbin scolds. “i just had no idea that you were both…”

“virgins?” you prompt with a scoff. “well, i thought we both were, but i guess not!”

changbin looks at you for an uncomfortably long time, blinking owlishly. “i didn’t know you were a virgin.”

“you never asked…” you scoot away from his side awkwardly, casting him a nervous anybody sideways glance. you never thought that changbin would judge you for being a virgin, but maybe you had put too much trust in him. at this point, you struggled to put much trust in.

“woah, hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing or anything!” changbin interjects, “if that’s what you want to do i’ll support you. i’m just… surprised, i guess. you’ve really never done anything? like at all?”

“i mean, i’ve kissed before,” you mumble, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “and like, touching and stuff, but not anything past that.”

“not even oral?” changbin gasps.

you shake your head.

the horror movie has been all but forgotten on the tv screen, the suspenseful music oddly fitting for the fluttering in your chest. changbin studies you through the smoke clouding the air, the look in his bloodshot eyes impossible to decipher— you feel so small under his gaze, squirming and shifting in your spot as he scrutinizes you. you open your mouth to speak, but changbin beats you to it.

“have you ever touched yourself?”

you blanche, hands itching to shoot up and hide your face. “um….. yes.”

why were you even telling him this? your sexual experience was none of his business, no matter how close the two of you were… yet you can’t help but feel like he somehow deserves to know. especially when he was the one you always thought about when your hand slid between your legs.

“have you ever made yourself cum?” changbin asks, an unfamiliar, dark edge in his voice making you shiver.

“i… i don’t think i can.” you admit softly, face burning. you try to evert your eyes but changbin is having none of it, gently grabbing your chin and turning you to meet his sharp gaze.

“what do you mean you don’t think you can?!” changbin prods, raising an eyebrow. “everyone can cum, baby. you’ve just been doing it wrong.”

the pet name slips out so fast you nearly miss it, your head spinning and your tummy twisting— never in your wildest dreams had you thought changbin would call you something like that so casually. his rough fingers burn against your skin, holding your chin so firmly yet so gently, such a dominating act turning your brain to mush.

changbin takes your silence and blank stare as some kind of answer, grinning down at you like a predator. “do you wanna know what it’s like to cum?”

you blink. what kind of question was that? “y-yes.” you answer after a pregnant pause, voice barely above a whisper. changbin’s grip on your chin tightens.

“i can show you if you’d like.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you had always wanted your first time to be special. you had dreamed of giving it to your future husband the night of your wedding, a special occasion with candles and rose petals. you had never wanted it any other way before.

but the man you had thought would one day be your husband had you second guessing everything you had ever believed about yourself. you had believed wholeheartedly that he too was saving his virginity for when you got married, but he had given it away like it was nothing behind your back. how many other girls had he fucked besides your best friend? how long had he been lying to you about being your forever? did it even matter now, after the dust settled and found you yourself in changbin’s arms? you were sure now more than ever that that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

it feels so right with your back pressed up against the couch, skirt rolled up your hips and your legs spread wide to expose your simple white panties. part of you wished that you had picked a nicer pair to wear, but changbin doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, he admires your pussy as if he had never seen one before, a raw hunger burning in his eyes as he watches your cunt twitch and throb. he can see every movement with your panties so wet, the sopping fabric clinging to the curves of your pussy lips. you can feel every one of his breaths fan over your mound, his face so close with him kneeling below you on the carpet. you fight the overwhelming urge to cover yourself, gnawing on your lip to keep from squealing when he leans over to shove his face in between your legs.

“i’ve wanted to eat this pussy so fucking bad,” changbin growls, his hot mouth trailing against the outline of your mound through your panties, “you have no fucking idea. god, i need to taste you—no, no, keep these panties on, baby. they look so pretty on you.”

changbin shoos your hand away before hooking a finger under the gusset and pulling them to the side, exposing how ridiculously wet you’ve gotten. you’re so horny it aches, fluttering pussy lips wet and sticky— changbin licks his lips at the sight, his pretty brown eyes even prettier when he’s stoned, spit-slick lips blowing cold air against your cunt to watch how you twitch. you so exposed like this, thick thighs spread obscenely as he studies your most intimate areas, and it just adds to the building arousal in your belly. you have half a mind to beg, but changbin beats you to it, dragging the flat of his tongue between your fluttering pussy lips. the unfamiliar sensation makes you shake, every slide of his slippery tongue filling you with desire and anticipation. the pleasure is already too much for you to bear and he’s barely even begun, strong arms wrapping around your thighs as he slobbers wet kisses all over your cunt up to your cute throbbing clit, the engorged bundle of nerves visibly trembling as it peeks out from its little hood. changbin slurps it up between his lips as if it were the sweetest candy, his eyes screwing shut in delight with his face buried in your pussy.

the weed just adds to every sensation, your mind fuzzy and blank except for the intense bursts of pleasure that changbin generously gives to you— you easily lose yourself in it, your hips bucking against his face and your hands shooting down to tangle themselves in his tousled hair. pulling against the strands earns you a deep, primal groan from deep in changbin’s chest. “b-binnie,” you warble brokenly, “it feels so good~”

“yeah?” changbin smirks against your cunt, lips releasing your clit with a wet pop. “you like having your pussy ate, baby?”

“mhm, mhm—” you nod pathetically, using your grip on changbin’s hair to try and pull him impossibly closer to you. he responds in kind, adjusting his grip on your panties before abruptly shoving his tongue inside your weeping little hole.

the sudden sensation makes you gasp, your wide baked red eyes watching in rapture as changbin devours you whole; he shakes his head vigorously as he tongue fucks you deeper, eats you like a starving animal, his big hand on your thigh holding you down so you have no other choice but to take whatever he gives you. the pleasure is overwhelming, clouding your senses in the best way, elevating your high to a level you’ve never quite reached. you felt like you were floating and falling all the same, waves of ecstasy crashing over you and pulling you under. one of changbin’s hands leaves your shaking thigh to circle your clit with his thumb, his chuckle reverberating against your heated skin when you cry out. the pleasure reaches a breaking point, so overwhelming that blood rushes in your ears—

“i-i think i’m gonna pee!” you suddenly shriek, entire body quivering in his hold, the building tension in your gut threatening to overflow. changbin just shoves his tongue deeper inside your hole, nearly folding you in half against the couch cushions with your legs dangling up in the air. “wait, baby, please—”

“shh, oh sweetie, you’re not gonna pee,” changbin coos, thumb working in tandem with his lips and tongue. “you’re gonna cum. you’re gonna squirt all over my face, fuck— make a mess for me, baby, come on.”

it feels as if the world stops spinning as you reach your climax, your vision going white as you toss your head back and scream with release. clear liquid pulses from your cunt, drenching changbin’s face as he slurps your hole greedily. it soaks the bedsheets, so much that it makes a puddle under your ass— changbin helps you ride out your orgasm with his tongue on your clit, drawing slow circles against the oversensitive bud until you swatted at him to let up.

“holy shit, you really did squirt, that’s so fucking hot… how’d that feel, baby?”

“feelssogood~” you moan, legs still shaking from the aftershocks. changbin unwraps them from his neck and pushes himself off the carpet—in a flash he has you underneath him with your knees to your chest, his broad musled body pressing you deep into the couch cushions.

“you want another one?” he grins down at you wickedly, dark eyes sparkling.

“yesyesyes—!” you squeal in excitement, relishing in the feeling of his hard cock through the fabric of his sweatpants, your dripping pussy getting them wet and aiding in the delicious slide. the size of his bulge both frightens and excites you, thicker than you had ever thought or dreamed about; you grind against him needily, ignoring how your panties dug into your flesh, ready for him to take his sweats off, but the feeling of changbin’s blunt fingers against your opening makes you stop and frown. “n-no, no, not your fingers— i want y-you inside!”

“but bunny, you’ve never taken cock before,” changbin murmurs, “i need to stretch you out, i don’t want to hurt you…”

“please, i’m so fucking wet, i can take it! i’m so empty it hurts, binnie, want your big cock…”

“fuck.” changbin spits, eyes screwing shut as he grits his teeth; he breathes like he’s trying to compose himself, fat cock twitching against your hole. “fuck, fuck, alright— i’m gonna go slow, okay? tell me if it hurts.”

with one hand he tugs his sweatpants down his thick thighs, his cock bobbing up to slap against his belly. the size of it makes you gasp, flushed angry red and leaking pearly precum from the tip. thick, throbbing veins wrap around the velvety shaft, adding to the daunting girth that made your cunt clench around nothing.

“like what you see?” changbin teases, wrapping a fist around himself and slowly stroking. he slaps his wet, bulbous tip against your clit two, three times, snickering at your needy whine.

“i-it’s so big!” you whimper brokenly, bottom lip wobbling. “it’s so— i need it inside, please!”

changbin can’t take the waiting anymore, pulling your pussy lips apart to spit on your winking hole; before you can react his cockhead is pushing against your rim and popping inside. you throw your head back and wail, eyes shooting wide in shock, pussy spasming and clamping down tight on his thick cock as he slowly and carefully pushes deeper and deeper inside. “oh fuuckk, baby, so fucking tight! it’s a lot, i know, you gotta try and loosen up for me,” changbin coos, deliciously condescending as his fat length bullied deeper and deeper into your tight virgin hole. the stretch is almost unbearable, burning even with your pussy this soaking wet— you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, grabbing ahold of changbin’s bicep tightly. “you can take it though, right sweetie?”

he stops halfway to let you adjust, your tight little hole clamping around him like a vice. his cock feels so much bigger inside of you, so unrelenting you feared it would tear you in half. you blink away tears as you struggle to take him, your gummy walls torn between pushing him out and sucking him in deeper. slowly, the pain begins to give way to mounting pleasure, stagnating as changbin lays still inside of you. “i-i’m ready,” you quietly whimper, cunt pulsating.

“you sure?” changbin asks, humming when you shake your head. “i’m gonna move now, let me know if it’s too much—"

there’s a little bit blood mixed with the slick covering his cock when he slowly and carefully slides it out, your pussy squelching obscenely and your hole left gaping. changbin shushes your frightened whimper, pulling you to his chest with a hand cradling your head. ”shh, it’s okay, you’re doing so good~” he coos into your hair, pushing himself slowly back inside of you. “i just popped your cherry, baby. you’re taking my cock like such a good girl, aren’t you?”

his cock hits even deeper than before, all the way to the hilt— his fat mushroom head kisses your cervix with an explosion of red hot pleasure, pressing against it so hard it felt as if he would push through all the way into your empty womb. the rhythm he quickly falls into is punishing, pounding you into the mattress at a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every mean thrust of his hips. “you’re so fucking deep!” you hiccup, burying your face in changbin’s chest.

“yeah, baby? can you feel me in your tummy?” he laughs, his voice infuriatingly calm and collected compared to the way his hips smacked against yours impossibly hard and fast. “fuck, your pussy feels so good, better than i’ve ever dreamed— i’ve always wanted to fuck you so bad, since i’ve met you, bunny! am i making you feel good, princess? is this pussy mine now?”

“yes!” you sob, unable to form any other words, form any coherent thoughts at all; you’re fucked completely dumb in seconds, brain completely empty except for how much pleasure coursed through your body, how perfectly changbin was fucking you, how that fire in your tummy grew hotter and hotter, about to burst like a volcano erupting. “i’m yours, always been yours— this pussy is yours, binnie, fuck!”

“that’s my good little girl. forget about everything except this cock, okay? you’re all mine now, aren’t you? oh my god, this is the best halloween ever.”

[crybabykiko]

All Mine

Sakura Haurka x f!reader WC: 1.3k Warnings: pwp, established relationship, oral+piv, pull out method (sorry it’s just who I am now), undertones of possessive Sakura, everyone is aged up to early 20s, mentally this is supposed to have a 2nd part so ignore the abrupt ending...

Daisy Says: Idk how we got here but damn...

tagging @interstellar-inn bc network tings

“How come you never kiss me like that?”

When you asked, it was a joke, of course. You were curled up on the couch next to Sakura, feet tucked neatly under his thighs to keep your toes warm. There you were, wrapped up in blankets, a shared bowl of popcorn the only thing truly separating you two from getting closer.

You had noticed he wasn’t laughing, though.

“Helloooo,” you called, tossing a single piece of popcorn to barely thud against his temple, his gaze on the film breaking as he looked to you with red-stained cheeks. The truth of the matter was that even though you and Sakura had agreed to take things slow, things were going a little bit too slow for your liking. You liked watching movies, sure, but every time? watching movies could be even better if you were face down, ass up with the Are you still watching? screen pixelated in your blown-out eyes.

The couple on-screen is clearly having more fun than you are; the romantic climax of the movie featuring a kiss in the rain. Their lips meet in a fervent, sensual kiss, each touch igniting a wildfire of longing. The rain is drenching them, but they are oblivious, lost in the heat of the moment. Time stands still as their kiss deepens, every second brimming with unspoken promises and the raw, uncontainable passion of two souls finding their perfect match. Their bodies pressed together, hands roaming with a desperate, aching need, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour.

He shifted a bit, the seemingly permanent scowl on his face temporarily softening the moment his eyes fell onto you again. With you, he was never really angry- or even aggressive, but instead, so much more relaxed and comfortable,despite the discomfort with being close to.. Well anyone. Even against the mounting and overtly sexual tension that had been building much like your closeness- it was no secret that he was insecure at times about your intentions with him. After all, you were such a hot commodity around town- choosing him sometimes felt odd to him in particular. He thought about the things the guys said about you, the things they wanted to do to you, the things that he could do to you. The stare lingered a bit, his eyes trailing from your head and down your neck, before settling on your chest. He could just barely trace the lining of the top of your bra through the deep cut neckline of your shirt, eyes straining involuntarily in an effort to see even more. He had you. You were his. And he had made up his mind in these tangled thoughts- that you had waited long enough.

“Is- that… is that what you want?” His eyes were fixated on the way your chest rose and fell with every breath you took.

You reached out to lift his chin, forcing his eyes to meet yours as you inched closer and closer to his face, lips barely touching as you spoke.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, confirming your desire and giving him even more indication while batting your lust-ridden eyes. You fully closed the gap, pushing your tits against him as if to say that you weren’t leaving his apartment without what you came for… him.

His complexion flushed an even deeper, carmine red as your hand trailed down to palm him. You felt him stiffen almost immediately in response to the touch, your voice darkening as you stared into his now bewitched multicolored eyes.

“Just wanna be yours.”

It’s barely a full blown make out, but his lips are on yours as soon as you give him the go ahead. There's no real time to melt together but the urgency is there, making it feel as if once your lips part, they’ll never be able to touch again. It gets deeper over time, hands beginning to roam between fabric and skin interchangeably while you gasped for the spaces of thickened air between you, Sakura mumbling ‘all mine,’ against your lips, jawline, and neck as he made sure to leave no patch of skin untouched. He took the lead, pulling your shirt over your head and pushing you to your knees.

Licking your lips with anticipation, you saw him finally spring free from his makeshift pajama pants, cock already glistening at the tip. One hand began to twist at the base of while the other worked to peel your low-rising lounge shorts down to your knees, wiggling your legs until they fell just past your ankles. His hands found their way to your hair as he began to move your head up and down in an effort to guide you. The movement of his arms and hips was feverish and mismatched, desperate for any contact he could have. The weight of him on your tongue alone was enough to send your pussy into overdrive after waiting for what felt like an eternity for this moment. After a few passes, you popped your lips off of him, strings of your saliva separating you from the length.

At first it was slow, making sure he could feel every inch of himself entering you as you adjusted to the pleasure of fullness. He raked his hands into the sides of your flesh, speeding up your pace as he started to thrust upward to meet you. You hadn’t noticed him snaking a hand behind him, reaching over his head to draw it forward- his old Furin jacket. You knew how important that thing was to him- the stories it held, the person it made him way back when. When it came into your vision, you immediately took the hint, gently fumbling with the cool metal buttons that adorned it. Never slowing down, he guided your hips to make figure-8s around him as you slipped it over your shoulders.

“Fuck-” the moan was drawn out and broken as his cock rammed into you more vigorously then, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in harmony with your moans as you felt yourself losing balance. You placed your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself, but he pulled you forward by the breaklines of his jacket, fixated instead on feeling your body in his.

“Now, you’re all mine,” Sakura exalted. His eyes- one blue, one brilliantly golden, were completely glossed over, much like yours at this point, but the intensity of the eye contact brought you closer to the high you’d been chasing as both of your breath patterns slowly began to waver. You could feel his nails softly digging into your side as he concentrated, deepening his claim on you by ghostwriting his name in your skin- you had memorized every character even as your vision began to white, body giving way to land onto his frame and gripping the blankets below you for dear life. He grunted in compliance as he felt you start to clench around him, making sure to get you through it all, eventually slowing his pace and slipping out just in time to come completely undone where your lower abs met.

You both collapsed into the floor beneath you, bodies writhing as you recollected your bearings. There were several seconds of soft pause before anyone moved, heads innocently knocking into each other’s in your disoriented state. He mumbled a soft apology, pressing his lips to the affected area near your temple before reaching over both your bodies to grab his phone.

Oh shit. It was almost 8:45.

Following his lead, you too grabbed your phone- several missed texts flooded your screen. Both of you were late for that night’s festivities- the debut of Tsubakino’s new number down at the club- the one your entire friend group had been invited to at least 2 weeks ago…. The one that Tsubaki would kill you for missing… especially because you helped with the choreography.

“I should probably go back to mine and get ready,” sighed, wrapping yourself in Sakura’s jacket and heading toward the door back to your place, conveniently located a few units away.

“I’ll give this back to you later.”

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐕𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐊.𝐘𝐒 ♡

Day Fifteen - Oral/Fingering

【Synopsis】 : Yeosang was struggling withi is vocal range. Stressing over it, he decided he needed a snack break. Good thing he knew just the treat to eat.

『Word count』 : 1.32k

-> Genre: pwp. Idol au. Smut. 

Pairing: Idol!Yeosang x Producer!Reader  

[Warnings] : Oral (f rec). Fingering. Cum eating. Dirty talk-ish. Pet names. Slight public sexscapade, hehe.

Networks: @k-vanity @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

Yeosang paced around the booth, making noises that would seem absurd to others but to singers, you would know he was trying every technique under the sun to calm and loosen his vocal chords. He had finally been given the chance to show off his vocal range and of course, his voice has decided to go through what he liked to call a second puberty. He was already super stressed as it is for this comeback and now his voice had chosen to crack, it felt like the world was out to get him.

“Come on, Yeo. Let’s try another take.” Your voice rang through the speaker from the other room that connects to the booth. He sighed, finding a slight comfort in your voice, knowing it was just you watching him fail every time. Ever since KQ had hired you as a producer, you had helped so much, even going out of your way to stay late with him to practise his parts in the songs. “You ready?”

He put his headphones back on before standing in front of the microphone, “Ready.” He gives a thumbs up to the one-sided glass. You pressed play on the back track, watching Yeosang count the beat until he was supposed to sing but when he started he immediately sang the wrong note, cracking the pitch with a ‘fuck’ following afterwards. He threw his headphones in a rage, making you jump for the speaker;

“Hey, come here now.” You said sternly, watching Yeosang run his fingers through his messy hair. He swung the door wide open before entering the producing room where you were sitting on the swivel chair with crossed arms. Your eyebrow was raised while you clicked your tongue, “You didn’t need to throw the headset, you know.”

Yeosang slumped onto the couch, falling into it as if he was hoping it would swallow him whole. “I know…” He mumbled. This caused you to shake your head, turning your back to him to look at the computer, choosing to give him a cool down before either of you progressed. He watched your movements closely, feeling the annoyance drip from you. You hated when he got angry, even more so when he threw things. Although he doesn't mean it, he knew that it still bothered you. "I'm sorry…"

“I know…” You mimicked his words prior, sighing as you continued to adjust some of the ranges on your screen. “I understand... I get it.” Another thing he loved about you. You never stayed mad at him when he fucks up. Being a caring and kind-hearted person, you always put the happiness of others before your own.

As you shifted in your seat, he watched as you placed your hand on your neck, lightly rubbing it. You were tired but you would never admit it. You were craving to be in your nice warm bed, cuddled up next to your lover while fast asleep. He felt bad he couldn’t give that to you. but as his eyes wandered lower to stare at your skirt-covered legs, he noticed the way you held your thighs tightly together in concentration. Fuck, what he would give to have them over his shoulders right now, he always felt his calmest when between your gorgeous legs. That’s when an idea popped into his head, “Hey…Why don’t we both take a break.”

“You wanted to do this note before tomorrow. Taking a break would mean you lose time for that, Yeosang.” You swivelled your chair to face him but instead of seeing a defeated sad man, you were met with pure desire matching lust-filled eyes. You gulped, tightening your thighs and straightening your back, “Why are you staring like that?”

“Oh, I think you know why.” He grinned, making you look everywhere around the room but at him, with blush painting your neck and ears.

“Yeosang! We are in our workplace. This is inappropriate.” You gasped, turning back to the desk, attempting to shake the shiver that was running down your spine to your core. Yeosang just chuckled at how easily flustered he can get you. He stood up, walking over before placing a hand on your shoulder;

“Just one taste. Loosen up my mouth and all.” His deep whisper against your ear caused your eyes to flutter closed. You bit your lip as your body reacted before your brain, pushing off the desk slightly so Yeosang could take a seat in front of you. “Such a good girl.” He gave your cheek a kiss before grabbing a pillow from the couch, taking a seat under the desk on his knee right in front of you.

“If we get caught, You’ll never hear the end of it.” You grumbled, lifting your flowy skirt up, gifting Yeosang a view of your damp panties, the pink frilly fabric already sticking to your cunt deliciously. Yeosang has admitted it a thousand times and he’ll keep screaming it from the rooftops if he had to. But he loved to eat you. It was one of his favourite things to do. There was something about making you feel good just by his tongue and fingers. The way you clenched around him while he lapped up your mouth-watering juices. He would much rather get you off multiple times before he would even grant himself one orgasm. You never came first in life so he made sure you would come first over and over with him if it was the last thing he did. You deserve it after all.

“Fuck look at you, baby. All wet already.” He put his nose against your soaked panties, taking in a deep inhale, groaning at your scent invading his senses. His fingers hooked around the band, pulling the fabric to the side so he could get a look at your cunt dripping with slick. Taking a quick glance at the door and then to your pleading eyes, he wasted no time in latching his mouth to your little bundle of nerves sending a shock of electricity to crackle up your spine. Your hands flew to his soft locks, tugging on them harshly, earning yourself a hiss from him

“Fuck, Sangie…” You hiccuped, bucking your hips against his tongue as he licked several long stripes along your folds before going back to suck on your clit. His fingers made quick work, using his free hand that wasn’t holding your soaked panties, to sink two fingers into your quivering hole. Your head dipped back against the head of the chair, hanging slightly as you threw your left thigh over the armrest. This gave Yeosang more access to add another finger inside you while pulling back to admire your pussy clenching around them.

“You taste so amazing, baby. My favourite fucking meal.” He growled, spitting on your clit, watching his saliva leak down to your hole before he stuck his fingers out to fuck the saliva into you.

“Yeo…I’m gonna argh…” Your eyes watered as you lost yourself in the pleasure while Yeosang leaned down, spreading his own legs so he could get the perfect angle to fuck his tongue into you. He groaned when he felt your walls tighten around his wet muscle, eating all the slick that dripped out of your cunt.  

“Come..” A slurped followed by a humm, “Come on me…” His nose rubbed against your clit as his fingers sped up, “I need it.” 

You obeyed your lover's whimpering commands, coming undone on his tongue and long digits. Using your free hand, you covered your own mouth to silence your screams as your hips stuttered and your body convulsed from the aftershock of your climax. You felt like you were floating among the clouds, hazily looking down to see Yeosang drinking every drop of your puffy pussy gifted him.”You…a menace.” You panted, raking your hand through your sweaty hair.

“I’m aware.” He sat up with a cheeky grin, your cum dripping off his chin and down his neck.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[mysumeow]

HEAT 2/3 ✦﹐

BEFORE YOU READ! This is a continuation to this smut.

Warnings: reader is referred to with you/your, afab genitalia and breasts mentioned. PWP (plot what plot), threesome, piv unprotected sex.

Summary: The seasonal allergy is killing you, and the cart containing your medicine was destroyed by a group of hilichurls! Luckily, your dear friend Albedo can help you with that, but because of a mistake on his part, you end up taking the wrong medicine. Word count: 1.3k.

a/n: I kind of rushed this because today is my bday and ill be hanging out with my friends TvT we only see each other like twice a year so JKFDHSLKJFSH but i also didnt want to keep my readers waiting for an update so here it is. this smutfic is also super indulgent because tighnari and albedo are my favs from genshin so yeah :p i do have a third part in mind for this!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . MASTERLIST | PREV

“You’re late.”

Tighnari’s mouth, which was agape a few seconds ago, closed as he shot Albedo an annoyed look.

“What do you mean I’m late?”

“Had you noticed sooner the scent, you would’ve helped to soothe that condition. You very well know which one I’m talking about,” Albedo was teasing the Forest Ranger, who didn’t seem all that joyous about. “However, the heat hasn’t subsided yet. Look,”

The alchemist shifted aside to give Tighnari an unrestricted view of your still dripping arousal. Tighnari’s ears perked up, despite his attempt at keeping his flushed face calm.

Under normal circumstances, he would’ve taken a more rational solution, either by simply walking away and letting Albedo solve it himself or by giving you a suppressant—although its efficiency would be dubious, considering that you’re supposed to take it before the heat starts and the fact that you’re not an actual foxkin.

And yet he closed the door behind his back, his body sensitive to the alluring warmth yours emitted. Your body’s call for someone to breed, the scent…it was too much for him. It shattered the neglected primitive side’s fragile enclosure he had always supressed. To this point.

Albedo sat and rested his back against the bed’s headrest, telling you to hold on to his shoulders as his hands went to your hips. When did he flip your positions? You couldn’t recall, but it’s not like you were about to complain.

Tighnari’s touch through his gloves was hot on your body, and if not for Albedo’s hands holding you up, you would’ve lost your balance when Tighnari laved up your drenched pussy. He licked up your lips, both hands placed on either side of your thighs to spread you open. He repeated the motion several times before covering the expanse of your hole with his mouth, tongue delving deeper inside of you.

“F-Fuck,” Tighnari sighed, enjoying the slick coating his tongue. It was as if he became addicted to your body, only desiring more from you after every suck and lick he delivered.

Albedo shifted your attention back to him and made you face him with his hand on your chin, his lips back on yours to swallow your moans and gasps.

You tried to speak, tried to warn Tighnari of your imminent orgasm, but you could not concentrate enough to form a coherent word—other than a broken, cut-off wait—

Tighnari groaned as you came hard, tightening around his tongue as your whole body trembled.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Did Tighnari whine? Or was that your imagination? You heard the rustle of clothes behind you, and soon, his hands were on your hips again.

You felt the tip tease your aching cunt before he eased in with a swift, effortless motion. Albedo’s hands wandered down to your wrists to keep you in place the moment Tighnari thrust with desperation, going fast from the get-go. Albedo’s hungry mouth swallowed your pleasured sounds, not giving you a single moment to relax your racing heart.

“You feel so good,” Tighnari moaned. His hands went up to your tits, and he squeezed your nipples. His face and chest pressed against your back, his weight about to make you collapse if not for using Albedo’s shoulders to stabilize yourself from the sheer need of his pounding. “And your smell’s driving me crazy. I don’t—I don’t think I’ll last more.”

“Fast. You’re going too fast,” You managed to gasp through heaved breaths. Despite you blurting that out, you found yourself moving your hips to meet his, close to the peak as well. “I-I’m going to cum.” You cried.

Albedo shifted closer so his hand could stimulate your clit, albeit with little precision thanks to Tighnari's rapid paced thrusts. That bit of help was, however, enough for you to dig your fingernails into the alchemist’s skin as the waves of your release snapped from within. You heard the forest ranger groan from the pleasure and came deep inside of you, the snaps of his hips not stopping as he filled you up.

“That should suffice for your heat, perhaps. How are you feeling now?” Albedo asked while your mind was still spinning around. “Hey, are you listening?”

Your arms lost whatever strength they had, and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. Your body gave out, your face rested against the alchemist’s warm abdomen.

“I’m sorry, I’m still hard,” Tighnari complained; his hands massaged your thighs as if in apology. “You don’t mind if we do it again, do you?”

“I think it’d be appropriate for you to allow some margin of recuperation,” Albedo caressed your head. His touch comforted you…

For a moment, you felt like you had fallen asleep… or maybe you did, because when you opened your eyes, Albedo’s arms were around your waist. Not a single sight of Tighnari, though?

You sat up, followed by a headache, which made you want to lie down again.

“Oh, you’re up already,” Albedo cranked an eye open; his fingers traced your hand. “Are you looking for something?”

“Ti-Tighnari. Where’s he?”

“Hm?” He sat alongside you. “What’s the matter? Are you still in heat and need me to help you?”

“No, I mean…” You stopped for a moment in contemplation. “Did I dream that?”

That piqued the alchemist’s curiosity. “What did you dream?”

You opened your mouth to answer, and you closed it back the instance you realized it was far too embarrassing to tell.

“Could it be that you had a wet dream with the forest ranger? You fell asleep almost right after I had brought you to an orgasm,” Albedo didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself; he smiled rather amusedly. “I was aware that heat can make certain animal kins insatiable, but didn’t know to what extent. If you’re in dire need of another round, I can assist you again.”

“Please stop talking,” You covered your face with your hands. “For the love of the seven archons, please don’t ever mention this to Tighnari.”

Albedo fixed his attention on you. “You have my word.”

Alright, at least that was settled. You felt a bit more at ease.

“Nonetheless, I don’t take kindly to the fact that you dreamt of someone else. Especially in the sexual nature of said dream,” Out of the blue, he pushed you against the mattress as he got on top of you. “I consider a…disciplinary correction to be most appropriate now.”

“Huh?!”

“I jest, I jest,” He pulled away from you with a faint smile. “You seemed troubled, and I wanted to lighten the mood up.”

“Jokes are meant to be funny, not to give you a heart attack!”

He softly laughed. “Let’s get ready before Tighnari notices you aren’t in your room, yes?”

[little-diable]

Professor Malfoy – Prof!Draco Malfoy (smut)

At least y/n can experience all my professor phantasies. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us motivated. Enjoy my loves! xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Malfoy's TA, a man she had been crushing on ever since meeting him at Hogwarts all these years ago; but kind of just pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral (m), some face fucking, professor x ta

Pairing: Professor Draco Malfoy x fem!ta!reader (1.8k words)

“Here, let me take that.” Professor Malfoy’s voice rang in her ears, watching his hand reach out to take the books (y/n) was carrying. All she could do was nod her head, unable to speak up with the man standing this close. Could he hear her racing heartbeat? Could he tell that she was awfully nervous?

“Coffee?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to speak up, still not used to being this close to the man she was working for. (Y/n) had to clear her throat, slowly nodding her head as she stepped into his office. The door fell shut with a soft thud, a sound that finally managed to rip (y/n) out of her state, the ice was slowly melting, it allowed her to relax, to move without overthinking her every step. “Here you go.”

Professor Malfoy placed the cup down on the coffee table, watching (y/n) sink down on the all too comfortable couch. She didn't pick up on the smile tugging on his lips, didn’t pick up on the soft glance he shot her way, tongue kissing his teeth. He shuffled around, reached for the papers they still needed to grade, wordlessly sitting down next to (y/n). 

 “Do you have another pen for me? I think I lost mine somewhere.” (Y/n) thumbed through her bag, unable to find the red pen she had been using the past weeks. The two have built some kind of routine, after he was done with teaching his classes, where she’d support him whenever students asked questions, they found their way to his office, spending hours on end in the quiet room. 

“Here, take mine.” Their fingers touched for a few seconds, a touch that shot shudders down her spine, pupils dilating as her body clung to the sensation. Fuck, she needed to get a grip, need to get over the crush she had fostered on the man for years. The two had met at Hogwarts years ago, barely sharing a word, since he was older and couldn’t care less about the younger students. But (y/n) had always found herself drawn to him, wanting to get to know him, wanting to feel his eyes on her – mere dreams she hadn’t been able to shake ever since their first run in at this university.

A comfortable silence engulfed the two, allowing (y/n) to relax even further into the couch, shuffling around to make herself comfortable. She didn’t notice the way his eyes ran up and down her frame, didn’t notice the smile he wore as he reached for her shoulder, giving her a soft push to pull her down to his lap, head resting on his thigh. (Y/n) looked up at him with wide eyes, not daring to move as he redirected his gaze to the papers he was reading. 

Heat flushed through her, no longer able to focus on the papers she was supposed to grade. Her mind fully focused on the feeling of his thumb stroking the exposed part of her shoulder, making goosebumps rise on her skin. It took her a few more seconds to rip her eyes away from his handsome face, teeth buried in her lower lip as her shaky hands tightened their grip on the papers.

“You know,” he murmured his words, placing down his papers to fully direct his attention down onto (y/n). “Ever since I saw you in one of my classes, I wondered if we’d ever cross paths again.”

“Did you? I didn’t think you’d ever notice me.” A soft laugh left (y/n), hands also placing down the papers. He kept stroking her skin, hand slowly wandering down her arm, to her fingers. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) felt him interlace their fingers, making her heart skip a handful of beats. The professor’s free hand found her face, cupping her cheek, with his gaze flickering between her curious eyes and her lips. She didn’t dare move, patiently waiting for him to do something, to give into the pull both were clearly taken hostage by. 

His thumb found her mouth, softly tracing her lips. Draco didn’t expect her to part her lips, sucking his digit into her mouth – a movement that forced his eyes to darken. Before she could even begin to understand what he was doing, he had pulled her into a sitting position, lips clashing against hers without another warning.

It felt like her world had suddenly stopped spinning, everything was on hold, allowing (y/n) to fully focus on the feeling of his lips moving against hers. The kiss was spurred on by their longing, by the stolen glances they had shared over the past months, by their desires they hadn’t acted on till this very moment. 

“If you only knew about the things you are doing to me.” He murmured his words against her lips, groaning into her mouth as her hands found his neck, tugging on his blonde roots. Their tongues met, battling a war of lust, of longing, a war both were determined to win. She crawled into his lap without breaking the kiss, clinging to him as if he was her lifeline, rescuing her from drowning in the cold, dark ocean. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” (Y/n)’s confession forced a smirk onto his lips, hands finding her thighs, moving up her legs to disappear beneath her skirt. All she could do was to keep still, holding her breath as his fingers found her soaked panties, meeting her covered, pulsing bundle of nerves. His eyes didn’t dare break contact as he raised his eyebrows, wordlessly waiting for her consent, not wanting to keep on touching her without hearing (y/n) speak the words. “Please, touch me, wherever you want to touch me.”

A satisfied hum left the man, fingers successfully pushing her panties aside. (Y/n)’s quiet moans rang in his ears as he teased her clit, rubbing the soft spot to push forceful waves of anticipation through her. She tried to shuffle closer, wanting to feel more of him, desperate for him to own her body and soul. His cold fingers felt unfamiliar on her skin, a touch she had been aching for ever since she had first seen him, wondering how and if he’d ever pull her closer. 

(Y/n)’s hands found their way down his chest, to his black trousers, toying with the silver buckle of his belt. A groan left the man as she freed his twitching cock, carefully grasping him in her hands. Draco watched her with amazement swimming in his pupils, gaze torn between her fingers and her features. He kept moving his thumb, forcing moans out of her whenever he added more pressure, trying to bite down the need to bury his cock inside of her. But (y/n) seemed to fight the same battle, pulling him in for another teeth clashing kiss. 

“Professor,” the word was whimpered against his lips, leaving him to hum, waiting for (y/n) to keep on talking. “Fuck me, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Something inside of him seemed to snap, pushing her off his lap and back against the couch, hovering above her. The sound of her panties being torn apart rang in her ears, forcing a gasp out of (y/n) that momentarily distracted her from the feeling of his cock being aligned with her entrance. He sank into her all too effortlessly, forcing her walls to clench around him, needing to adjust to his size. The both of them needed a few seconds before Draco started to move, balancing his frame with one hand placed on the armrest of the couch and the other holding her thigh. 

(Y/n) tightened the grip her legs had on his waist, keeping him as close as possible, not wanting to part from him ever again. Draco fucked her without holding back, sinking deeper into her tightness with every passing thrust, set on making her forget about their surroundings.

The sweetest sounds left (y/n), fingernails leaving marks on his neck, set on marking him up, set on claiming him with her heart beating in sync with his. Both tried to keep their sounds to a minimum, not daring to catch the attention of the people walking past his office, and yet they struggled to do so, connecting their lips again to swallow their sounds.

She choked on his name, eyes rolling back into her head as he nudged her swollen spot, grinning in victory about finding the spot that would push her into her orgasms' open arms. (Y/n) sneaked one hand between them, rubbing her clit to give in, to follow the call of the sensation she had been aching for for years.

“I got you, pretty girl, let go for me.” Draco felt her walls clamp down on his cock, telling him that she was about to cum, set on fucking her through her high before he’d give in. He watched her fall apart, watched the pleasure-drunken expression tug on her features as he kept burying his cock inside her tightness. It was a moment he’d never forget, Draco was sure of it, mind and heart fully taken over by her.

Draco pulled away from her before he could cum inside of her, groaning in surprise as her hand reached for his cock, shuffling around to put her mouth on him. Their eyes found back together as she slightly nodded, allowing the moaning man to fuck her mouth. She gagged around him, clawed her fingernails into his thighs, taking every inch he forced down her throat.

He twitched in her mouth a few seconds before he came, filling her cheeks with his cum, allowing a deep, raspy moan to claw through him. She greedily swallowed every drop, humming around him, wordlessly thanking him for what had just happened. 

Draco parted from her with a grin, tugging himself back into his trousers, watching (y/n) reach for her torn panties, unable to stop a huff from leaving her. His chuckles forced her to give into her own laughter clawing through her, pulled back into his open arms with a kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth.

“We really need to finish these papers, but I don’t think I can concentrate knowing you’re not wearing any panties now.” 

“And whose fault is this, huh?”

[lovelyhan]

— underlying pretense ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 

word count: 10.3k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it's the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, smut

warnings: wonwoo n reader run a shared porn account bc they're filthy like that, alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: thank you sm for giving the teaser some love! this was just supposed to be pwp filth but...it grew itself a plot :| it also has some valorant jargon here and there but i'll come clean and say i've never played a second of that game my entire life LMAO

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: sex tapes, unprotected sex, degradation, daddy kink, hard dom wonwoo, choking, overstimulation, aftercare

additional notes for the chat names!

texts: 🐈‍⬛ (ww), 🐈 (reader) discord: W0nwoo (ww), Koyahngi (reader) twitch: everyone_woo (ww), Koyahngi (reader)

taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @seoksoop - @hanieb - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @sysymei

Wonwoo doesn’t make it a habit to watch your streams for two reasons. 

The first is because you’re one of his tightest competitors in the streamer market. Giving you even a single view means that he’s contributing to your rise in popularity, which is very much detrimental to both Wonwoo’s pride and his career. 

Not that someone who only plays boring, open-world games can easily dethrone one of the most renowned competitive players on the platform, but he learned the hard way to never underestimate the charms of a cute girl who knows her way around both technology and the wallets of her subscribers.  

The second reason is…somewhat related to the first.

They’re all hanging out in Seungcheol’s apartment when Vernon opens up a Twitch stream to watch. Wonwoo is in the middle of a petty but intense Fruit Ninja competition with Mingyu on their phones, so he doesn’t get to see which streamer he’s watching. Vernon is the type that likes to give newbies a chance, though, so at that moment, Wonwoo couldn’t really care less.

But when he hears a familiar, high-pitched voice dish out her opening tagline for every stream, even Mingyu notices the way Wonwoo's face scrunches up with distaste.

“Can’t believe you pulled a Koyahngi and Chill while Wonwoo’s in the same room,” Seungcheol laughs when he returns with some beer. “We all know he’s allergic to the sound of her voice.” 

“Hey, I think it’s cute,” Vernon says. “Her outfit is, too. Look.”

Wonwoo, still stewing in his annoyance, doesn't move an inch, while Mingyu scoots closer—glancing over Vernon’s shoulder before letting out a wolf whistle.

“I really don’t see the benefit to playing Stardew Valley in maid-cat girl fusion cosplay, but at least she’s still in theme—oh, shit.”

Seungcheol looks at him once he settles himself on the sofa as well. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone died while I was in the middle of a game,” Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, lemme borrow yours. We still haven’t decided who’s buying takeout tonight.”

While Wonwoo would’ve normally responded by scoffing at Mingyu to just borrow a charger from Seungcheol, he completely ignores him—stern eyes glued to his phone as he types away at rapid speed. The moment he hits send, Wonwoo hears a soft chime ring over Koyahngi’s lo-fi background music. 

You pause for a moment from whatever introductory segment you have planned and tell your viewers you’re just going to answer a text. Wonwoo’s friends are none the wiser when he receives a reply the moment you put your phone back down and interact with the chat.

🐈‍⬛: What did I say about wearing that outfit?

🐈: hmm, can’t remember :P

Fucking brat.

“Hyung?” Mingyu calls out after emerging from Seungcheol’s room—presumably to hunt for a charger—when he spots Wonwoo already halfway to the door. “Where are you going?” 

“Friend’s having set-up problems. He texted me asking if I could come over and take a look,” he reasons calmly as he slips his shoes back on. “I’ll head back here once I’m done.” 

Seungcheol pouts at him. “You better! Mingyu over here told us you’ve been busy with some girl, that’s why you couldn't hang out with the boys anymore.”

Vernon glances behind him to shoot Wonwoo an incredulous stare. “Wonwoo-hyung? With a girl? You’re not just making stuff up, right?” 

Mingyu immediately springs into action, blabbering something about how Wonwoo isn’t the heartless prude people thought he was, but Wonwoo really doesn’t give two shits about how his friends perceived his sex life. In fact, he was more interested in what’s playing on the screen of Vernon’s iPad—the view now unobstructed because the youngest has deigned to move away.

Again, the second reason why Wonwoo doesn’t watch your streams is related to the first. 

You’re literally his tightest competitor, but when he sees you all dolled up in your stupid fucking catgirl outfits, he’s suddenly no different from the degenerates vying for your attention in the chat.

And there is nothing else that Wonwoo hates more than being thrown off his game like that.

Funnily enough, he’s reminded of the very thing that started this constant back-and-forth he’s been toeing around with you for a better part of the year when he slips into the driver’s seat of his car. Just before he can drop his phone into one of the cup holders on the middle console, a Twitter notification lights up on screen. 

Wonwoo would’ve thought it was from the account dedicated to interacting with his viewers outside of streams. He’s got a decent number of followers there after all. Except the notifications for his official Twitter account have long been muted because of the massive online traction his tweets gain everyday. 

No, this one’s from another account entirely.

He feels no shame, opening up the most recent video you put up. What he does feel is a sick sort of pride at the sheer amount of engagement that the video received overnight—those faceless Twitter accounts in the replies looking for other desperate fucks to recreate it with. 

This is one of Wonwoo’s favorites. Part of the select few that he actually deigned to keep hidden in the gallery of his phone for…future use. He can barely contain his own heady arousal as he watches the same clip he took with his own camera the previous night. 

Those desperate little noises you made. The way your body writhed while getting a good dicking down. And how you were so fucking eager to slide Wonwoo’s cock back inside your cunt after having him cum all over your tits. 

Seeing you wearing the same goddamn fishnet bodysuit beneath your stupid maid costume on the stream not only made him pop a hard-on in the middle of boys’ night, but also called for drastic interventions, so to speak.

🐈‍⬛: Finish up that stream asap. I’ll be there in 20. 

🐈: fuck you, i just started 5 minutes ago

🐈‍⬛: You know I don’t like it when you talk back, right?

🐈: fine

🐈‍⬛: What?

🐈: …yes, daddy

🐈‍⬛: That’s what I thought.

It all began during a relatively harmless Discord call between their circle friends. 

Hanging out with other streamers isn’t such a foreign concept to Wonwoo. If you live in the same apartment as renowned social butterfly Kim Mingyu, you’re bound to get roped into his goings-on anyway, so Wonwoo relents every time—telling himself there’s no harm in meeting a bunch of new people, as long as they aren’t shitty teammates in-game.

Tonight, though, it’s Vernon who brings a new face to their server, and their Discord tag is something that Wonwoo recognizes almost immediately.

“Hey,” says one Koyahngi#0000, sounding a lot different than Wonwoo remembers. “It’s nice to meet you guys. Vernon said I could come hang out.”

The others in the voice call greet you with varying degrees of enthusiasm—from Jihoon’s mirrored but relaxed ‘hey’, to Soonyoung’s immediate invitation to team up with him on a new FPS game they’re trying out for the night.

As if having the same train of thought as Wonwoo, someone immediately pings him from the private server he shares with Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Vernon—one that Mingyu pathetically named as GAM3 BO1s. Wonwoo is quick to click on it more to eliminate the annoying red ping notification than anything else.

Min6yu: hey isn’t she the new streamer who always gets on wonu-hyung’s nerves

Min6yu: bc her voice is always so…squeaky

Min6yu: @W0nwoo

5coups: hasn’t it occurred to u that maybe that’s just part of the online persona

5coups: i think the reason why wonwoo is annoyed is bc she’s stealing his brand

5coups: you know, as the government-assigned twitch cat

V3rnon: you guys aren’t seriously talking about the person i invited in a server i’m also a part of, right…

5coups: gotta live with it, vern. you know gyu is the town gossip

W0nwoo: can we talk about this later?

W0nwoo: i can’t be the only one hearing soonyoung wailing in the call because we’re taking too long to form teams

The first few rounds progress exactly as Wonwoo envisioned them to be—with you being a constant dead weight to Soonyoung’s team, as Wonwoo’s comes out victorious each time. But it seems that the only person remotely miffed by your presence is Wonwoo, as everyone else in the call would resort to saying things like, that’s alright, you’ll get better with practice or come hang out with us more often so you can get used to it! 

Wonwoo isn’t a fan of the latter, but if the tides of favor are pitted against him, twelve to one, he can’t just overrule the majority like that. 

Of course, he doesn’t have a personal vendetta against newbies. That’s where everyone starts. Back in high school, Wonwoo used to be so bad at aiming his shots in FPS that Mingyu wouldn’t talk to him for an entire day because Wonwoo inadvertently embarrassed him in front of some girl he was trying to get with at the time. 

But there’s just…something about you that ticks him off.

You aren’t even using that pick-me-girl voice you typically do on your streams whenever you’re in a voice call with them, but it’s like you’re playing badly on purpose just so his friends could coo and coddle you. Wonwoo seems to be the only one who can see straight through the farce, and he doesn’t know how to fucking deal with it.

Or maybe he shouldn’t have to deal with it. He can just suck it up whenever one of his friends invites you to play games or fuck around in a Discord call. It’s not like anyone’s holding Wonwoo at gunpoint to interact with you. 

Except one day, Jeonghan thought it would be a wonderful idea to have a quote-unquote friendly Valorant competition on-stream. 

Wonwoo isn’t as opposed to it at first. These little contests have always been a constant since they all started gaming years and years ago. Chan, Minghao, and Jun left the call a bit early for some prior commitments, which means the opposing team would be Jeonghan, Joshua, Woozi, Seokmin, and Seungkwan. Should be easy enough.

But just when Wonwoo thought he’d be playing with his usual Valorant team consisting of Seungcheol, Mingyu, Vernon, and Soonyoung, he’s presented with a bit of a surprise.

“What?” Wonwoo blurts out of instinct once the news that you’re going to be replacing Soonyoung for today’s stream reaches his ears. “What’s wrong with Soonyoung?”

Jeonghan tuts at him in the call. “Now, Wonwoo-ah. Weren’t you the one who suggested switching things up every now and again? You’re the only one who seems miffed at the idea of getting to play alongside our new friend over here.”

“Yeah, and there’s a new banner coming out tonight in this gacha game I’m playing,” Soonyoung quips. “I’ve been sponsored with a fuck ton of cash to use on summons, so I gotta do the rolls live. Actually, I’m gonna head out now. Good luck!”

The moment Soonyoung leaves the call, you’re all-too quick to jump into the spotlight.

“Don’t worry, Wonwoo, I’ll try not to drag you down too much,” you tell him, and Wonwoo startles at the sound of your voice speaking to him directly. “You might have to carry me a little, though~”

He doesn’t like the idea of letting you have the last word, but Wonwoo would rather not antagonize you right before a joint stream with his buddies. Even if you seem to thrive off pushing his buttons whether knowingly or unknowingly, he has enough tact to keep things civil, especially in the middle of a voice call. 

At least, that’s the plan until all of you are several rounds into the first game.

“Do you have some sort of grudge against me?” Wonwoo mutters into his mic as his agent dies for the nth time on stream, while you—having played Sage since the beginning—stand over him without doing a single thing. “You haven’t tried to resurrect me even once.”

The jeering laughter of his other friends on the call inadvertently pisses him off, but the sound of you simpering is what makes his blood pressure rise into dangerous levels. “Oh? Sorry, I kind of forgot how Sage’s abilities work. My bad!” 

“This is our twentieth round,” he reminds you, eye twitching with annoyance. “And you literally just resurrected Cheol, like, a minute ago.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to waste her ult on scrubs who can’t dodge headshots,” Mingyu snorts and Wonwoo has to keep himself from getting up from his chair just to give his best friend in the other room a knuckle sandwich. “I dunno if Wonwoo-hyung’s just terrible today or if Seungkwan actually got better at using sniper guns, but this is the most fun we’ve had in a while.”

“Speak for yourself, asshole,” Wonwoo grunts.

He can hear Seungkwan laugh as well. “It’s a compliment, but that somehow still feels like an insult—whoa! Shua-hyung, Vernon’s planting a spike in—”

Before Seungkwan can even finish the sentence, his agent is swiftly annihilated by yours from behind—making quick work of Joshua, who was hiding behind a cargo holder while you’re at it, too. Wonwoo can hear Jihoon belting out a string of very colorful language that Jeonghan might have to edit out once he cross-posts the stream on YouTube. But with all agents from their team having been eliminated, the twentieth round inevitably goes to Wonwoo’s team. 

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve been glad to celebrate his team’s victory, even if he was hard-carried for an entire round because of some careless choices early on. But the fact that his best friends are all-too enthusiastic with that last play you made did his peace of mind no favors.

“See, we told you you’d get better with practice,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo would honestly like to digress.

You’ve never been bad at FPS. That’s just what you wanted everyone to think, so the moment you finally made groundbreaking plays, all attention would magnetize solely on you. Not that he’s been much of a glutton for the spotlight, though. Wonwoo simply despises people with hidden agendas, no matter how harmless, and the fact that he’s the only one who realizes this makes it even worse.

It doesn’t help that he has a hunch that whatever blatant dislike he has for you, is very much reciprocated on your end.

Your friends assumed the constant bickering you had with Wonwoo during these streams is nothing but good-natured banter at the end of the day.

However, Wonwoo knows much, much better that this is more than just to boost the viewer engagement because of how entertaining it is to watch the two of you argue about the smallest things. (Typical ‘everyone_woo and Koyahngi catfight’, as Soonyoung horrifically dubbed it.) 

There has to be something he can do to make you see yourself out of their circle as soon as possible. Pretending you don’t exist just won’t work anymore because: 1.) Wonwoo is very, very easy to get a rise out of and; 2.) You always seem to go out of your way just to fuck with him every chance you get. 

He needs to get rid of you, stat.

Don’t misunderstand, though. Jeon Wonwoo isn’t some sort of vengeful person who makes it his life’s goal to break you off from their circle entirely. It’s not like he’s actively looking for some dirt on you so he could finally make his idiot friends see the light about your real personality. He kind of just hopes that karma would do its thing without requiring Wonwoo to lift a single finger.

Eventually, that does sort of happen. Just not in the way he ever would’ve expected.

Wonwoo isn’t particularly fond of using Twitter. Aside from the fact that he doesn’t have much to say for his followers to see, the things that appear on his timeline can be a bit…questionable. 

From threads justifying that everyone_woo and min6yu_k have been dating since middle school, here’s why to the blatant Twitter porn that his other, more degenerate streamer friends keep bringing onto his feed with their likes—Wonwoo is yet to have a pleasant experience with the stupid app. He mostly just uses it to post stream schedules ahead of time, and thank the occasional follower when they make nice cat-themed merch for Wonwoo to see.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what compelled him to scroll through the dumpster fire that is his Twitter timeline on this specific day, at this specific hour. When he has nothing better to do, he usually just channels the boredom into working out. 

But today is more of a lazy day, and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to lounge on his gaming chair while waiting for something interesting to pop up. Why he’s expecting such a thing on Twitter is beyond him, but he’s already here anyways, right?

About five minutes through his infinite scrolling, it finally pops up. 

It’s another porn video liked by this guy he collaborated with for a Twitch event once—a rather…promiscuous person named Johnny. Now that he thinks about it, Johnny seems to be the main source of all the NSFW content popping up in Wonwoo’s feed, and he considers soft blocking him for a due timeline cleanse altogether. 

But when Wonwoo finally reads the caption attached to the video…

🔞 • @_asd624915 pov: you’re fucking k0y4hng1 from behind 🤤

He scoffs the moment he finishes reading it, attempting to just block both the person who posted the video and Johnny at the same time. But what catches Wonwoo’s eye is the red neon setting of the scandalous clip. 

Wonwoo doesn’t have to watch your streams to be familiar with the trademark neon red lights you had set up inside your gaming room. The streamer portrait at the bottom corner of your screen always contrasted with the games you played, and it was sort of an eyesore sometimes. 

As the degen who tweeted it described, the girl in the video is being railed from behind while her partner films the entire thing with his phone. Wonwoo couldn’t make out any other details because of the stark, neon red lighting, as well as the shitty 480p quality, so he figures that person just wants to project his sick fantasies about you on some amateur sex tape. 

Thinking about why Johnny would even like this sort of thing gives Wonwoo a headache, so he just quits the application altogether—deciding to finally drag his ass back to the gym so he can just let it pass.

It’s none of his business anyway.

Except it happens again a few days later.

The gaming community isn’t completely full of people with questionable tastes. There are still streamers like Saerom that Wonwoo would actually consider a friend outside of his usual circle. She used to be more popular back when battle royale games were still a hit, but Saerom has since lied low in the gaming scene, and only goes live on Twitch at least once every three months. 

So Wonwoo finds it a bit surprising to see her in the chat for tonight’s stream. 

His newer viewers don’t seem to know her, but some of the veterans on his channel all greet Saerom happily—spamming the chat with the cutest emojis available on stream. He thanks them for their discretion, as he can’t quite scroll back to read her first message. The chat is moving a little too fast, and things are getting a little too heated in the Valorant Icebox map. 

Wonwoo isn’t quite used to queueing solo anymore, so after carrying the rest of his team for thirteen rounds straight, he decides to cut the stream earlier than he usually would. He says goodbye to the viewers, not forgetting to give Saerom a quick special mention before ending the live. 

However, just when he’s about to shut off his computer, he gets a Whisper notification.

SAEROM: hey, you’re friends with koyahngi, right?

everyone_woo: Uh. Sort of. Why?

SAEROM: oh um

SAEROM: i’m sorry if this seems a bit odd…but i’m just concerned about her. 

Saerom’s response makes him arch an eyebrow. 

Did something happen to you? And is it so bad that a semi-retired Twitch streamer is reaching out to him just to check in on you?

everyone_woo: Is something the matter? 

everyone_woo: I haven’t really hung out with them in a while, so I wouldn’t know

SAEROM: oh, i see

SAEROM: it’s just that…there are some weirdos on reddit saying they discovered her sex tapes

SAEROM: i had something similar happen to me in the past even if it's complete bs, so i’m just looking out for her, yknow? 

SAEROM: their reasoning is so stupid too! just because the girl in the video has red mood lights, doesn’t mean it’s koyahngi, right?

Huh. She must be talking about the same video that Johnny unknowingly put on Wonwoo’s timeline a few days ago. He hasn’t really been paying attention to social media platforms that aren’t Twitch and YouTube, so he wasn’t aware that those clips managed to gain some traction in the degen community after all. 

everyone_woo: You know how fans and viewers can be sometimes.

everyone_woo: That’s the reason you laid back for a while, right?

SAEROM: well, yeah but just bc it’s a normal thing, doesn’t mean i have to just sit back and watch it happen again to other people

SAEROM: sigh sorry i’m rambling. all of this just doesn’t sit right w me, and you’re the only friend of hers that i’m still in touch with

SAEROM: you must think it’s weird for me to be fussing abt someone i’ve never spoken to before lol

Wonwoo feels quite the opposite, actually. It’s kind of relieving to know that there are still people like Saerom in this world—caring enough to be frustrated on your behalf even if the two of you have never interacted. 

everyone_woo: Would it make you feel better if I talked to her about it?

SAEROM: omg? you’d really do that?!

SAEROM: seoyeon was completely wrong abt you, you're not a cold-hearted guy at all!

everyone_woo: …So is that a yes or?

SAEROM: ok first of all, i’m not sure if that’s necessary ‘cause idek if she knows me 

SAEROM: you don’t have to Talk to her about it, but at least look after her for me? 

everyone_woo: Ok. I’ll try.

SAEROM: thank you, you’re the best! 

It’s only when he’s halfway through his evening shower that what Wonwoo just offered to do for Saerom finally dawns on him. The moment the realization hits, Wonwoo closes his eyes and let the steady spray from the showerhead prickle his face—breathing deeply through his mouth before...

“Fuck!”

Mingyu asks what the commotion was about when Wonwoo joins him at their two-seater dinner table. He probably heard him not-so gracefully lose it inside the bathroom, but Wonwoo is too pissed at himself to entertain Mingyu’s question, and thankfully, his roommate is sensible enough not to pry.

“Gyu, can I ask something?”

Wonwoo asks this in the middle of cleaning up after dinner. He’s in charge of doing the dishes, since Mingyu was charitable enough to cook dinner for both of them tonight. Mingyu glances at him from the couch, pausing the RPG he fed into the PS5. “Yeah?”

“If you have something important to tell a girl, where would you do it?”

Honestly, Wonwoo thought it would be alright to check up on you through a quick message on Discord. But the nature of your supposed…problem is a bit too sensitive to bring up in a casual conversation. He figures that talking to you in person would be more appropriate. Never mind the fact that every other instance Wonwoo has met you in real life consisted of him completely avoiding you. 

The sound of the water running is the only thing that can be heard throughout their apartment as Mingyu processes Wonwoo’s question with an unreadable look. It’s the first time he’s seen his roommate look so serious about something, so Wonwoo decides to give him some time to answer while he scrubs off some particularly tough fond sticking to the frying pan. 

In reality, Mingyu actually had a last-minute meltdown in his head the moment Wonwoo asked the question. His roommate and best friend for more than ten years never expressed feelings or interest in other people. So the fact that Wonwoo is coming up to him now, asking about where to confess his feelings is kind of a big deal.

(Okay, that’s definitely not what Wonwoo asked, but it might as well be, right?)

So to speak, Mingyu is trying to handle the situation as delicately as possible. He just knows the moment he lets even the tiniest laugh slip, Wonwoo would just scowl at him and drop the matter entirely. Which Mingyu does not want to happen, because surprise, surprise. He’s actually rooting for his normally stoic roommate! 

“Hmm, I think the new samgyeopsal joint downtown serves some mad bulgogi,” Mingyu suggests because barbecue is always a safe choice. Unless the girl Wonwoo’s trying to get with is a vegetarian, but that’s out of the scope of Mingyu’s concern right now.

Wonwoo scrunches his brows together. “Samgyeopsal? Do I really have to eat with her?”

His roommate looks at him like that’s a pivotal piece of information that everyone is aware of. Everyone but Wonwoo, it seems. 

“Duh! It’s to set the mood and stuff,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo is starting to wonder if they’re talking about the same thing. “Anyway, it’s better to invite her out for dinner. Nothing beats grilling meat and sharing a beer after a long day, am I right?”

Mingyu isn’t exactly wrong about that. 

Every time they all went out for samgyeopsal and a few drinks, the atmosphere has always been oddly comfortable. He might not like you as a person all that much, but Wonwoo would want you to be comfortable before he asks about…the thing.

“Fine,” Wonwoo relents just as he’s finished putting the last plate on the drying rack. “Thanks for the input.”

When Wonwoo slowly pads back to his room, he wonders again if he should really exert this much effort for someone he doesn’t even get along with. Sure, he told Saerom that he’d check up on you, but…she insisted that he didn’t necessarily have to talk to you, right? 

All of a sudden, Mingyu starts clapping all the way in the living room—effectively startling Wonwoo from his quiet contemplation. 

“You can do it, hyung,” he says with an earnest smile. “I believe in you!”

Wonwoo simply shoots him a bizarre stare before slamming the door behind him, muttering about how strange Kim Mingyu could be sometimes. 

W0nwoo: Hey. Are you free tomorrow evening? 

Koyahngi: …did you send that to the wrong person or

W0nwoo: No?

Koyahngi: who are you and what did you to do wonwoo

Koyahngi: the Real wonwoo would rather throw an entire match than ask me if i’m free tomorrow evening

Koyahngi: you better start fessing up or i’ll tell mingyu

W0nwoo: Can you stop being weird about it? I just need to tell you something important.

Koyahngi: oh? professing your undying love for me already?

W0nwoo: Just answer the question.

Koyahngi: oooh you like ordering people around huh? but yeah i should be free after my stream.

Koyahngi: where are we going, lover boy?

W0nwoo: New samgyeopsal place downtown. Gyu said you already went with them once.

Koyahngi: okay, sounds like a date to me. 

W0nwoo: Whatever. Just don’t be late.

Of course, you make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late.

Wonwoo is already in the middle of grilling the restaurant’s famed bulgogi when you slide yourself into the seat adjacent to his, grinning so sweetly at him, Wonwoo almost rolls his eyes. 

You aren’t dressed the way you usually are in streams and conventions, having settled with a worn out sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. It’s a far cry from all those complex catgirl outfits that Wonwoo has no idea how you have the patience to put together every stream. The switch up throws him off a bit, but he doesn’t comment on it—content with grilling his meat in silence as you flag down a waiter to get your order in.

“So,” you start, lacing your fingers together, “what does the elusive everyone_woo want from little old me?”

He forgot that if you’re annoying in their damn voice calls, you’re ten times worse when you’re actually in front of him. Wonwoo breathes in the fumes from the grill, willing the succulent aroma of grilling meat to calm him down before he responds.

“You should eat first,” he insists, popping a piece of beef into his mouth. “You might lose your appetite if we talk about it right away.”

You snort. “You make it sound like you know a deep dark secret that can potentially ruin my life.”

…In a way, he does, yeah.

Wonwoo assumed that eating outside without the company of your mutual friends would make the entire ordeal awkward as hell. He’s used to bearing the brunt of uncomfortable silences, but it’s just like you’re built to never feel cumbersome in your life—easily carrying the conversation with someone you supposedly hate, and hates you right back. 

You’re not someone who just talks and talks without discretion either. You know perfectly well when to fill the silence and when to let that silence set. Given that majority of his interactions with you involved his twelve other friends, that’s not something Wonwoo would’ve noticed about you right away. 

Fine. Maybe you aren’t as bad as he thought.

“Oh, right. Do you remember Saerom? The famous battle royale player from a while back?” you suddenly ask, and Wonwoo nearly chokes on his beer. “She popped into my stream earlier. It was fucking crazy! I’ve looked up to her since I was still in college, and then I see her leaving little hearts in the chat.”

As Wonwoo attempts to compose himself, he feels slightly reassured by the thought of Saerom easing herself into your orbit. The fact that you consider her as some sort of idol might just be a bonus, too. He wonders if he still needs to carry out what he’s supposed to do tonight, but then again, he’s already here.

And he’d be lying if he isn’t the tiniest bit concerned about your PR once that Reddit fiasco starts spreading around. 

That evening, he learns that you’re somewhat of a lightweight. Just two beers in, and your face is already red, and you’re laughing way too much in between sentences. Wonwoo has a sinking suspicion that he won’t be able to get his main agenda over with tonight.

He takes it upon himself to help you into the passenger seat of his car, trying to keep your grappling hands off him as you whine about how this is the only opportunity that you’ll get to be in close proximity to Wonwoo before you go back to hating each other again in the morning. Wonwoo can only sigh in complete defeat—wondering why he ever thought doing Saerom this tedious favor was worth it in the first place.

Thankfully, you’re coherent enough to tell him your address, and much to Wonwoo’s chagrin, you live on the other side of the district. It makes him ponder about why you accepted his invitation if the restaurant was completely out of the way, but then again you’ve always been a little eccentric. 

“We’re here,” he says, nudging your knee once he pulls up in front of your apartment complex. “Can you climb up the stairs or am I going to have to be your human crutch again?”

Blinking out the sleepiness swimming in your eyes, you manage to beam at him with a smile that makes your eyes crinkle.

“Your duty is not over~”

You did not just fucking quote Sage in your drunken stupor. 

There are only two things that pisses off Wonwoo these days. The first is Mingyu’s penchant for leaving his dirty clothes in the bathroom after a shower. The second is every single thing about you, which is un-fucking-fortunate for him because he’s forced to play Good Samaritan while you repeatedly wail, “Even death cannot stop me,” and every single one of your favorite agent’s in-game voice lines for no one but him to hear.

Wonwoo distantly wonders, if those weirdos on Twitter and Reddit saw you now, would they still think about you the same way?

When he’s finally in front of your door, you fumble a bit for your keys—doing a pathetic little fist pump once the lock turns on the first try. Wonwoo sighs. 

“Y’know…” You peel yourself away from his grasp before leaning against the doorframe, staring at him in the fluorescent light of the hallway. “Saerom-unnie already mentioned the rumors going around about me after my stream.”

At that moment, Wonwoo feels like an anvil has been dropped into his stomach. He narrows his eyes, wondering if this is some sort of conversational bear trap that he’s in danger of falling for. But the look in your eyes is a little too glazed over to be anything but honest.

“What did she say?” he asks instead.

You hum, chuckling to yourself as you fold your arms in front of your chest. “That you went out of your way to check on me on her behalf. So sweet of you, Wonwoo. Here I thought you were just some asshole who’s never dated a girl in his life. That definitely explains why you’re always so mean to me.”

Wonwoo’s gaze turns stony in a split second—the familiar dregs of irritation prickling the back of his neck. “I’m assuming you’re at least sober enough to walk back inside your place without my help? If that’s the case, I’ll be going—”

“They’re all true, you know.”

Your voice came out so softly, Wonwoo would have missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he is. He scrutinizes you for a moment, deciding whether or not you’re messing with him again, but the way you hold his gaze so confidently tells him it’s the latter.

“Of course, I didn’t tell that to Saerom-unnie,” you sigh, carding your fingers through your hair. “But yep. The girl in the video that a bunch of creeps are saying resembles me? That’s actually me.”

The clip in question replays in the forefront of Wonwoo’s mind like he didn’t spend days forgetting about it altogether. He shakes his head when he catches himself thinking about it a little too long. 

“Okay.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Why are you telling me then?”

You shrug. “Beats me.”

“You’re being very strange tonight, you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” you chuckle, leaning your head back while exposing your neck in a way that’s a bit too sensual to be normal. “Maybe it’s because I know the truth’s safe in your hands. Kinda weird if you think about it, though—trusting the guy who hates your guts with a dirty little secret that could end your entire career.”

If the context was any more different, Wonwoo would’ve agreed. This is what he’s been waiting for, right? To get enough dirt on you so he can convince his friends to just kick you out of your little circle altogether. 

But as insufferable as you might be, Wonwoo isn’t such a terrible person that he’ll throw you to the wolves without an ounce of remorse. He’s seen what scandals like this have done to the careers of old streamer friends he no longer has contact with. Even if you’re purposely living your life on the literal edge, he would never consider deliberately ruining it. 

He tells himself that the only reason he feels that way is because he refuses to get his hands dirty from…whatever you’ve got going on for yourself. Not because of outright concern for you. Definitely not.

“If you don’t have anything else to say to me,” Wonwoo starts, trying not to think about the flush on your cheeks while you’re slumped against the doorframe, “I’m heading back home.”

He turns around with full intention of leaving without hearing your answer. However, you completely anticipated his next move, immediately snapping into motion to grab Wonwoo’s wrist before he could even take a single step away. He grunts with surprise when you tug him closer—enough that your chests are flush against each other.

“I just remembered the other reason why I decided to tell you,” you giggle, running a finger along the rim of his glasses. “My old dom quit on me, so I need to bring in someone new to make more content with.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen by the second as the implications of your words start to connect in his head. “What?”

You roll your eyes. “No need to act so prissy with me, Wonwoo. I make sex tapes on the side for the entire world to see. As of the moment, there’s no one to have sex with. You’re a semi-attractive guy that’s pressed up against me right now, and I’m pretty sure fucking around with you wouldn’t be too—”

“Stop. Holy shit. Stop talking,” Wonwoo rasps. He physically has to push you away so he can hear the sound of himself talking over the thundering of his heart.

You pout at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t once thought about fucking me. I’m pretty sure your other friends have entertained the idea at least once.”

“Can you shut up for one fucking second?” 

That seems to do the trick. In fact, Wonwoo doesn’t miss the dazed yet pleased look in your eyes the moment he says the words with a bit more authority that he meant to channel into his voice.

Oh, you are so fucking sick.

“Look,” he sighs in between, dragging a palm over his face out of perplexion. “This probably isn’t a conversation we should be having in the hallway of your apartment complex. If your neighbors overhear, what then?”

“Hmph. You think I’ll let myself live in a place with paper thin walls? The soundproofing here is great, mind you. The couple that lives a few units over might be having the wildest sex imaginable and we’re none the wiser!”

“That’s not the fucking point,” Wonwoo growls. “You’ve obviously had too many to drink tonight, and you’re spilling all your life’s secrets willy-nilly. Don’t proposition me like that again when you’re not sober enough to deal with the consequences after.”

You simper, hands gliding to the lapels of his jacket as you tug him back. He has to physically bite the inside of his cheek when those fingers glide across the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt, grazing across every ridge of his muscled chest.

“Oh? Those consequences you speak of sound a bit too tempting to ignore.” 

Wonwoo looks at the pristine ceiling of the fourth floor hallway, as if praying for some sort of deliverance.

“Go home and get some sleep. Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, testing the waters of…whatever the fuck this is, and Wonwoo finds relief in the fact that you actually do as he says, stepping away from him just like he ordered.

“Not even a good night kiss?” you ask—the teasing lilt in your voice yet to fade. 

Mustering all the self-restraint left in his body, he turns on his heel and walks away without another word.

Wonwoo doesn’t hear from you for a few days after that.

He convinced himself that the conversation he had with you just outside your apartment was nothing but a fever dream. Though he only had one glass of beer, as he’s supposed to drive home, he can’t really underestimate the effects of alcohol. 

But just when he thought his life had finally resumed his preferred cadence of normalcy, another unexpected visitor hops onto his latest stream—sending the chat into a complete frenzy.

Unlike the mixed reactions that Saerom’s arrival last week incurred, seeing the renowned Twitch streamer Koyahngi leaving cat emojis in Wonwoo’s stream chat is enough to drive his entire viewerbase up a wall. 

Thankfully, he isn’t playing a game that requires 200% of his utmost concentration—having given the open-world gacha game that Soonyoung keeps begging them to play a chance—so Wonwoo gets to peer over at the messages flooding across one side of his screen. One in particular catches his attention: why are a bunch of hot girls dropping by wonwoo’s stream these days? 

Wonwoo ultimately decides to brush them all off for now.

However, unlike Saerom who just observed his stream quietly after making her presence known, you constantly made comments about his overworld progress—saying that he’s building this character wrong, and that there’s an easier way to go around the obstacles; he just needs to use his head. Wonwoo forgot that this is a game that you also played frequently, and having to be on the receiving end of all your unsolicited advice made him want to end the stream altogether.

Except he can’t dish out his snarky rebuttals like he typically would on their friendly Discord calls because, wow, his viewers really were eating this shit up. Since the two of you typically argued on your friends’ streams and not his, Wonwoo hasn’t seen the gravity of these splintered interactions until now.

His eyes parse through the fast-paced comments flying into the chat, catching on a few questionable ones, like someone begging for the TikTok fans to make edits, the fanfic writers to create stories about the greatest enemies-to-lovers couple in Twitch history, and so on. 

Wonwoo has been making his livelihood off the internet for years, but he still can’t get used to how strangely people behave sometimes.

He half-expects you to continue pestering him even after he finishes up with the stream, but his Discord notifs remain oddly silent, and Wonwoo decides to just hit the gym when Mingyu asks if he wants to come.

After he’s satisfied with today’s session, Wonwoo waits for Mingyu by the locker room, as his roommate is still getting their usual trainer to spot him while he does his bench presses. But when he fishes his phone out of his gym bag, he’s surprised to see a couple of messages from yours truly.

Koyahngi: sooo are you free tonight?

Koyahngi: i haven’t posted anything in a while, my followers must miss me

Wonwoo scowls at his phone once he reads the contents of your messages—earning himself a wary stare from this one person that passed him in the hall. Clearing his throat, he schools his expression into complete neutrality as he types in a response.

W0nwoo: Why do I have to get roped into this again? Can’t you just make your own content by yourself? 

Koyahngi: they’re more into seeing the actual thing that just me playing with myself

Koyahngi: that, and i’m kind of really horny these days

W0nwoo: …So this is your idea of a booty call?

Koyahngi: pretty much, yeah.

“Wonwoo-hyung, you wanna get some chicken before we head home?” he hears Mingyu call out at the other end of the hall.

He has half the mind to tell him that stuffing his face with fried food right after working out is counterproductive as hell, but then again, it’s not like Wonwoo can reprimand him when he won’t even be there to begin with.

“I…actually have other plans.”

…

What the fuck is he doing here, honestly?

It’s not like Wonwoo doesn’t have any sort of sex drive or anything. In fact, the night after he dropped you off at your apartment, he might’ve had to…relieve himself during a quick shower before bed. Not that he’d ever admit to ever doing it. Letting off some steam every now and again is understandable though. 

But this? Sitting at the foot of your bed as you got ready for him to fuck you silly?

This is a different breed of foolishness.

He seriously considers sneaking out of your apartment before you can emerge from the en-suite. Wonwoo can just shoot you a quick message, saying that this was all a mistake, and that he hopes you can find a more suitable partner to fuck around with. Because…he doesn’t just do these kinds of things with other people. He wouldn’t go as far as calling himself a romantic, but casual sex has never really interested him—insisting that there are other things in life to focus his energy on.

However, you come out of the bathroom before he can even hope to make up his mind, a cute robe patterned with pink kittens hiding your body from view. You muster up a kind smile as Wonwoo swallows thickly.

Yep. No backing out now.

“You look so tense for someone who just came from the gym,” you chuckle, making a beeline for your desk to grab your phone. “Aren’t work outs supposed to be a form of stress relief or something?”

“They are, but a certain someone is stressing me out again.”

“Hm. I wonder who?”

A few moments later, the mood lights hooked up to the ceiling start to glow, and you pad over to flip off the light switch. Almost immediately, the room is plunged into near-darkness, and Wonwoo feels himself take in a sharp breath when he sees how the red lighting paints your objectively cute robe in a more…lascivious light. 

“So how do you wanna do this?” you ask before finally making your way towards the bed—planting a knee on either side of Wonwoo’s hips before hoisting yourself up to sit on his lap. He doesn’t dare to move an inch. 

“Why are you asking me? Aren’t you going to direct how your own content plays out?” he questions gruffly, keeping his palms firmly at his sides despite the sudden compulsion to place them on your hips. 

You chuckle as you make a show of biting your bottom lip—one finger trailing down the dri-fit shirt that Wonwoo changed into after showering at the gym. “I don’t think you understood what I was telling you the other night. You’re my dom, Wonwoo. You get to call the shots, not me.”

He closes his eyes with a withering sigh, wondering what sort of atrocities he’s committed in a past life to warrant having to end up in this situation.

“Don’t we have to get this on film? Can’t exactly hold a phone when you’re all over me like this.”

A soft giggle reverberates in your chest before you roll your hips, earning an exasperated groan from the man below you. This time, Wonwoo can’t contain the need to touch you, and his hands migrate to your thighs as he presses his hips further against yours—eyes never straying too far from your own. 

“You don’t have to think about that just yet,” you murmur, trailing your lips along the cut of his jaw. “Let’s get a feel of each other first. I’ll let you know what I like, and you let me know what you like, yeah?”

It gives him so much vertigo, seeing you like this under the same red lights he’s always found disparaging to catch a glimpse of in your streams. Wonwoo is tethering dangerously across the tightrope of his self-control, but when you lace your fingers around his nape to press your foreheads together, Wonwoo realizes the effort is completely futile.

“What do you say, daddy?” 

He doesn’t have a daddy kink. He knows he doesn’t. He’s always found it weird how others got off at the prospect of calling their sexual partners such a thing. 

So why the hell is Wonwoo crushing your lips together like he’ll die if he doesn’t kiss you right this second? Why are his fingers gripping the swell of your ass as tightly as they are—grinding you down on his hardening length with a growl resonating deep in his chest? And why does he feel a rush of pride surge straight into his skull when you whimper against his mouth?

As he busies himself with devouring your lips, you shrug off the sleeves of your robe, making Wonwoo peel himself away for a second to get a glimpse of what you’ve been hiding underneath. When he’s rewarded with the spill of your bare breasts, he takes a sharp breath through gritted teeth—rolling his hips upward at the thought that you’ve chosen to forego underwear altogether.

“What’s your safeword?” he rasps, mouth hovering above your chest before he goes in for the kill, nipping and biting at your skin with the intention for it to hurt. A sick sense of satisfaction ripples in his chest when you moan out his name in response, and Wonwoo all but secures a strong arm around your waist to keep you from falling off.

“Red,” you mewl, all while you discard your robe altogether, rutting your bare cunt against his middle. 

He sighs, reaching between your thighs to get a feel of just how ready you are for him. Wonwoo nearly bites down harshly when he finds you wet and wanting—your essence already trickling out of your needy hole and onto his sweats.

“Fuck,” he groans, lathering his free hand in your slick. “So fucking wet for me already. Did you touch yourself before I got here?” 

“Mmmm,” you purr, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. “Fucked myself with a little toy thinking it was you.”

You assumed your eagerness to finally lie with the guy you’ve been trying to get with for months might spur him further into action. But something unspeakable shifts in the air and for a moment, Wonwoo is so silent, you figure he didn’t hear what you just said. Just when you’re about to call out his name, however, Wonwoo quickly maneuvers you off his lap, shoving you back onto the mattress with little heed for your comfort. 

At first, you thought he was about to manhandle you into oblivion, but when the searing warmth of his body departs from yours, you look up at him with an inquisitive scowl.

“Sounds to me like you don’t need my cock after all,” he says coolly, yet fails to mask the anger sparking in his dark eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’re obviously content with using a toy instead, right?”

“Wonwoo,” you groan, frustrated that he’s playing games now when you’re finally so goddamn close to what you’ve been hoping to happen for months. “Can you not go too deep into the domspace because I really, really need you to rail me like, right fucking now.” 

“Shut up,” he scoffs before crossing his arms together. If it weren’t for the outline of his cock bulging through his sweats, you would’ve thought he was genuinely displeased with you. “Cocksluts like you don’t have the right to make demands.” 

Fuck. 

You only had a hunch back then, but Jeon Wonwoo might just be the dom of your dreams.

Instead of playing the brat like you always do, you let out a helpless whimper, sliding down to the floor before crawling to Wonwoo’s feet. He watches your movements with an impassive stare, looking so immovable even as you prop yourself up on your knees to nuzzle his clothed cock.

“Then what can I do for you, daddy?” you ask, fingers catching purchase on the strong flesh of his thighs. The heady scent of musk and detergent pervades your senses, and it takes every ounce of patience for you to keep yourself from pulling his sweatpants down and take him into your mouth. “You’re not just going to stare at me all night while you’re all pent up like this, right?”

Whatever semblance of playfulness you deigned to parade around Wonwoo is quickly snuffed out when he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his ticked off gaze.

“I don’t think you understood your own words when you said I’m the one calling the shots here,” he growls, and you can feel another gush of slick seeping between your thighs. “You’re not allowed to talk until I say so. Keep those cheeky fucking comments to yourself or I’ll leave you high and dry. Got that?”

Oh my god, he’s fucking perfect.

When Wonwoo finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, he lies next to you on the sheets—waiting for you to swim out of that post-orgasmic high as he inspects the damage he’s done to your body.

It’s been a while since he’s gone out of his way to hook up with someone, so he isn’t surprised to see the plethora of love bites and bruises he ended up scattering across your skin. Wonwoo feels particularly pleased with himself when he sees the deep rise and fall of your chest—the bloom of hickeys you’ve amassed on your breasts still recognizable even under the deep red lights. 

“I think I might be in love with you,” you sigh wistfully once you finally come to your senses. Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I haven’t come that hard in months, Jesus.”

“Compliment me any more and it’ll get to my head,” he says before adding—much more sincerely than he usually sounds— “Are you okay?”

Turning around to face him, you pull him down for another kiss. Wonwoo grunts against your lips but snakes a hand around your waist anyways. 

“I think you’re just about ready to film us now,” you whisper into the kiss, licking into his mouth in a way that’s stoking the ebbing flames of his arousal back to life. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at your request but moves to the nightstand where he unceremoniously discarded his phone before fucking you stupid. There are a couple of texts and other Discord notifications on screen that he completely ignores in favor of handing it to you unlocked. 

You adjust your position on the mattress, easing your legs apart with the silent invitation for Wonwoo to come between them again. He can hardly believe that you’re still looking at him with the same bedroom eyes that you’ve been giving him since the night began. Just how much cock can you take, really?

“The mood lights shouldn’t be too dark, so don’t use flash,” you instruct him, handing Wonwoo his phone back with the Camera app already up and running. “Other than that, you’re free to do whatever you want to me, daddy.”

Wonwoo heaves yet another internal sigh as he positions himself between your legs, rubbing his half-hard cock along your ruined cunt. With a bated breath, he hits the Record button.

He hasn’t watched a lot of Twitter porn for a dozen reasons, but Wonwoo figures he shouldn’t get your face in the frame. Now that he’s finally in the shoes of whoever was fucking you from behind in the first clip he saw, he realizes it’s a little hard to keep filming this debauchery while subsequently trying not to lose his mind from how good your pussy feels. And he isn’t even inside you yet. Fuck.

The sensual way you move your body to meet his shallow thrusts makes him want to just chuck his phone back on the nightstand and ravish you all over again. But Wonwoo doesn’t do that. He simply continues with his ministrations, relishing in the cock-drunk look in your eyes once you reach out to pump his length in your smaller hand. 

You don’t talk; neither does he. All that matters is the sensation of his cockhead sliding across your wet pussy lips while you jacked him off with a hazed out look in your eyes. 

A possessive part of him takes great pride in knowing he’s the one making you feel like this; that he’s the reason behind that depraved expression you’re wearing. The moment you guide Wonwoo’s cock back into your tight channel, he uses his free hand to clamp his strong fingers around your throat—pressing down with just enough pressure to make you feel lightheaded.

The squelch of your cunt is sickeningly sweet, especially knowing that you still have his load inside you. Wonwoo is a bit too eager as he fucks his spend even deeper into your abused cunt, all while maintaining a steady grip on his phone as he captures all this on camera. He’s ruined you so badly that each time he slides himself to the hilt, he can see the creamy ring of your mixed juices at the base of his cock.  

You’re driving him so fucking crazy, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

After a few experimental thrusts, Wonwoo picks up the pace—the grip he has on your throat tightening ever-so slightly. Just enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Fuck it. 

He tosses his phone somewhere on the bed before moving to hook your legs over his shoulders. You shoot Wonwoo a bewildered look, a question already resting on your tongue, but the words are ground to dust when he pushes himself back into your sopping heat—deep enough that you can feel the fat head of his cock graze your cervix. 

“Fuck, daddy!” you wail, completely helpless as Wonwoo pounds into you with unforgiving vigor. “So good… So fucking good.”

If you uttered those words the first time he fucked you earlier, he would’ve choked you out for going against his ‘don’t speak unless I say so’ rule. But Wonwoo is just so obsessed with the tight fit of your cunt fluttering around his cock that he can’t even find the headspace to be mad about your disobedience. 

“You’re such a greedy fucking slut,” he growls, nipping the lobe of your ear. “Can’t get enough of this cock? You had to come onto me and let me ruin you twice in a single night?” 

The only response you can come up with is a high-pitched keen of his name as Wonwoo feels your cunt pulsate around him, squeezing his cock so fucking tight as you lose yourself to your nth orgasm. He hisses as he pulls himself out of the velvet heat of your pussy, jerking himself a few times before he’s painting your tits with white ribbons of cum. 

Wonwoo delights himself with the sight of his emission shining atop the marks he’s left on your body, and even entertains the thought that he won’t ever mind seeing such a sight again.

It takes about thirty minutes for you and Wonwoo to clean up—at his insistence, of course. After all, if he’s going to break you apart, it’s only fair for him to put you back together once all’s said and done. 

For some reason though, you haven’t stopped looking at him weirdly as he runs a clean washcloth all over your spent body. Like the concept of aftercare is something completely foreign to you. But instead of bringing it up, you ask Wonwoo if you can borrow his phone again, and all he gives you is a small grunt of affirmation before padding over to the en-suite to get himself cleaned.

“You didn’t stop recording when you tossed it away?” He hears you laugh from the bedroom. “Oh my god…”

He didn’t…? Oh, well. He was too goddamn horny to notice anyway.

Wonwoo gets dressed while you continue tinkering with the video he took on his phone—airdropping it to yours so you could do a couple of changes. Turns out, there are a couple of instances where your face got caught in the frame, and you’re going to have to crop it and trim out the part where you’re audibly moaning each other’s names if you want to keep committing these acts of deviance on the side. 

“Gotta say though, you’re a natural at getting my good angles,” you say, sounding completely pleased. “I wouldn’t mind having you over again~” 

“Don’t push your luck.” He scoffs as he fastens the string of his sweats and puts his glasses back on. 

But the two of you know he’ll be back either way.

When Wonwoo gets back to the apartment, he finds Mingyu lounging in front of the TV despite it being almost three in the morning. Something about marathoning a new drama that Wonwoo might’ve heard in passing. As exhausted as he is, he decides not to reprimand Mingyu altogether and marches straight to his room.

But just as he’s about to collapse straight into bed, his phone buzzes with another notification that makes him click his tongue in annoyance. It’s been going off non-stop since he left your place, but he didn’t pay it much mind since he assumed they were all Twitch and Discord notifs. Some of his friends did like pinging him unnecessarily even in the dead of night.

Although when Wonwoo realizes they’re Twitter notifications, he pauses.

He muted the notifs on his Twitter account ages ago. 

Confused, he takes off his glasses and places them on the nightstand, eyes narrowed when he realizes a new account has been logged onto his phone. An account that just happened to tweet the same video he just took on his phone not two hours earlier. 

🐈 • @ goodcat_badcat miss me? 💦

As fate might have it, a text notification hovers on top of his screen—with a contact name he doesn’t remember putting himself, but recognizes all the same. 

🐈: hope you enjoyed the show, daddy <3

As he reads through the text, he wonders distantly when this will all come back to bite him in the ass.

But then again, Wonwoo really couldn’t care less.

part one - part two - part three - part four

end notes: hehe i really enjoyed writing this, so i hope you enjoyed reading as well! this is actually slated to have a second part sometime in the future, but for now, i think it'll do well as a standalone. i'll let wonwoo and reader fool around with their spicy sex life first before giving them ~feelings~ to worry about ^__^

this is part of the game over series!

[softlee]

;Submission to Coquette - lee minho.

Copyright © 2024 softlee

Pairings: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7.3K

Genre: pwp (well maybe just a little plot), smut, fluff, established relationship, domestic relationship!AU

Synopsis: You take on the challenge of making your boyfriend "Coquette". Will you succeed? Minho only has so much patience when you request him to be submissive. So, ultimately trying to tie him up and use him might be his breaking point.

Warnings: Minho constrained in pink ribbon. Do I really need to add more? Grinding, Bondage via ribbon I suppose, squirting, light dirty talk, reader attempts to be dominant but really how far can that go with Minho? Oral (female and male receiving), and Minho shenanigans (minho just being minho).

Notes:  I was supposed to finish this at the beginning of the year when the coquette trend came out on Tiktok. This trend on TikTok IMMEDIATELY made me think of Minho, I just think this theme fits him perfectly. I mean? When I saw this picture on TikTok of this guy in ribbon my mind immediately went to Minho. I hope you guys enjoy it cause I know I did making it :) 

Here's a TikTok off the overall idea/theme of this fanfic: here

ENJOYYYYY :D

With the telling ding of Minho’s cellphone in his left pocket on his way home from work, he already had an inkling on who the sender was.

It was, as he suspected, a message from you—his girlfriend, his girl, his lover, his other half.

But to you? No, you were only his errand runner when it came to things you needed before he made his familiar trail back to your shared apartment. 

You: I know you don’t wanna go but can you pleaseeeeeeee get me some pink ribbon before you come home? :) [4:56 PM]

Minho lets out an agitated sigh before washing his hand over his disgruntled worn out face; A repercussion of his stressful day at the office. 

He waited for you to finish typing your thoughts because he knew you weren’t done.

You are his other half after all.

You: Please? It’s for you xox [4:57 PM]

“It’s for me?” He exaggeratedly stated in his mind while he skillfully dogged a piece of gum on the sidewalk before trudging forward more. 

He scoured every crevice of his mind to come up with the most plausible reasoning as to how himself and pink ribbon correlate in some way. 

After a few determined seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that there were none and therefore, there was no way in hell he was stopping at the store for pink ribbon of all things. It just wasn’t going to happen. Minho was stubborn and if he set his mind to something, it was going to stay that way. Forever. 

Minho isn’t one to be easily swayed. 

“I can’t believe you actually stopped to get the ribbon for me!” Minho is greeted at the door of your shared apartment with a love bomb attack. Arms and legs hurling towards him until they somehow get caught into his arms, you attached with them funny enough. 

You’re hugging him, and kissing him like this is the last moment you are together. Peppering his nose, forehead, and cheek with kisses before Minho becomes overstimulated by all the touching and he’s grunting in protest and faking a look of annoyance, face scrunching like he’s trying to get away from your assault of love. 

He’ll truly never admit it to you but this part of the day, almost like the day was mirroring itself every weekday was his favorite part; you meeting him at the door once you got the satisfying notification that your boyfriend was back home. 

Pecking him all over his face like you were some kind of bird.

He’ll never admit it. 

The bag with the ribbon of course fell onto the ground when you flung yourself onto him. 

Minho with his cat like hearing of course hears this, not even looking. 

“Look you probably messed the ribbon up by the way you violently threw yourself at me. It’s almost like you don’t even want it.“ He teases, feeling you slither your way out from the corner of his neck to fully make eye contact with him. The little smirk he has plastered all over his face is slyly gone once you're peering at him. 

“Of course I want it! I was just excited to see you! I haven’t seen you all day.“ You whine a little before Minho gives you a glaring stare, of course none other than to surprise you with a peck to the lips, softly letting you down onto the hardwood floor. 

You quickly swoop to floor level to retrieve the bag with your latest conquest, discarding the bag and holding the spool of pretty pink silk ribbon in your hands before you wiggle your eyebrows in what he would expect to be a playful way. 

“This.” You point at the ribbon, “is going on you.” You smile enthusiastically, pulling your boyfriend by the arm to walk him over to the couch.

He feigns annoyance, throwing his head back in an exaggerated way while making an ungodly noise. He looks like a little boy who is being dragged by his mother because he’s gotten in trouble. 

“Can I at least eat first? I'm tired and just got back from work.” Indirectly trying to crawl his way out of whatever the hell you were trying to do; Minho wasn’t going to let you win without a fight. That’s just how he’s always been. He’ll nag and nag some more, but since he loves you, he'll eventually give up.

Right?

“I promise if you do this for me right now, I’ll make you something yummy.” You traverse your eyes on his own, watching as you get no physical reaction out of him. 

He plops down onto the couch. 

You stand in front of him, both hands on your hips quicking scanning your brain to figure out what exactly you can make to get him to comply. 

Suddenly a light bulb switches on in your mind and you gleam, crawling into your boyfriend's lap, disregarding the ribbon on the side of the couch for right now. 

Throwing your hands around his neck, “How about ramen and kimchi? I think we still have some kimchi left over.” You swivel your head over to the direction of the refrigerator. In comparison, Minho refuses to acknowledge you on his lap, the dinner choices, and how you on his lap is suddenly clouding his judgment.

You turn back to face him. 

“I’ll make you some pork belly too?” Suddenly Minho is intrigued, giving you his full-facing attention before a little smirk takes over his face, unable to contain how good that sounds in reality. 

Suddenly intrigued by the music in the background he didn’t seem to hear at first, he looks at the TV behind you. 

“Were you just about to play Fortnite before I came in?” He randomly asks in the midst of you discussing dinner options. 

Brows twisted in confusion for a second, they return to their natural state when you remember that you were indeed about to play Fortnite. 

“Oh, yeah I was. The season is almost over and they had Poison Ivy in the Item Shop! I had to get her and play a couple of matches with my new skin!” You protest, feeling the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms slide around your waist, fastening you to his body. 

He displays a toothy grin at your comment. “You’re such a nerd.” Yet when he states this comment, you see nothing but love in his eyes. You smile as well, not about to let him get away with his words. 

“Well, you can’t be the one to talk! You also-”

“Fine, I’ll do it. Now hurry up before you change my mind.” He suddenly states, grasping the ribbon in his palm before he looks up to literally see you light up at the words. 

That’s all he had to say, you immediately withdrew yourself from the warmth of Minho’s lap, telling him to stay put while you go to collect a few necessary items to make your dreams come true. 

You come back in record time, three minutes; Minho watches the array of items engulfed in your arms as you make it back to the sofa of your living room, dropping the items onto the coffee table as if they were somehow heavy. 

“Alright,” You grab the black shirt from the assortment on the table, “Let’s put you into this shirt first.”

You turn the shirt inside out, showing him that it indeed wasn’t a plain black shirt like he thought. It was decorated with the words, ‘I love my girlfriend’ right where the top of his chest would be centered if he were to put it on. The word ‘love’ instead being a familiar red heart. 

He chuckles out of bewilderment, eyes turning into your favorite half moons. 

“When did you get this shirt for me?” He’s intrigued.

“I got it about a week ago in preparation for this exact moment!” You wink at him softly, getting closer to him sitting on the sofa.

“So you’ve been planning this huh?” His eyes are wide, trying to figure out exactly what your evil plans had in store for him. 

He tries to grab for the shirt so that he can put it on, but you bring it closer to yourself, shaking your head.

“You said you were tired right? I’ll put it on for you.” He throws his arms down, somehow not making a fuss about you doing this for him.

“Wowwwww,” you’re amazed, he’s glaring whilst he holds his arms up above his head, waiting for you to pull the shirt he’s been wearing all day, off. 

You reach for the ends of his shirt, pulling upwards, “You’re so obedient right now.” You tease, getting him out of his shirt before you reach for the one you’re exchanging it for. 

You’re now sitting down on his lap again, looking up at him while you get the shirt into formation so you can pull it over his head. He obviously didn’t like what you stated, his dark brown eyes beaming intensely into your own.

You look down quickly to run away from them, meeting direct eye contact with his bare chest. He was definitely getting more toned, the lines of his abs becoming more visible. 

Before you could let his naked upper body distract you, you decide to pull the shirt over his head, and watch as you pull each arm one by one into the short sleeves. 

His hair gets ruffled in the process, looking like he just woke up from a nice long nap.

“Cute.” You giggle at this, before you smooth his hair out, back to its familiar state before you’re taking him all in with the shirt now on, smiling again. 

Minho of course doesn’t like such comments, narrowing his eyes and trying to make himself more intimidating by giving you his signature gaze; eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line. 

It doesn’t work on you though, he just looks even cuter earning a hearty chuckle at your motion as you throw your head back. 

You turn around in his lap, eyeing the other items plastered on the table as well. You lose balance a little while doing this, so as Minho does with his quick reflexes, he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Next,” You grab an assortment of your most valuable plushies. “I’m gonna put these around you before we start.”

Minho’s eyes washes over your brightly colored plushies; Kuromi, Hello Kitty, and some other bunny looking creatures he’s forgotten the name’s of. Regardless, he watches you in fascination as you start to place each plushie, one by one onto the sides of him, in the corner where his left shoulder rests, and one remaining one (one of the bunnies) in between where you and Minho meet on his lap. 

He raises one eyebrow. 

“So, where does the ribbon come in with all of this?” He questions, your hands reaching behind you on the table once more to secure the scissors in your hands. 

You also obtain the ribbon that fell between the cracks of the couch cushions, before you gleam at him. “Right now actually. I’m going to make you coquette.”

You gleam.

“Coquette?” He’s so puzzled he manages another smirk, letting out a breathless chuckle. 

You hum in agreement, delicately brushing a hair that has decided to fall where Minho’s left eye lays, his eye twitching in the process.

“I saw this Tiktok trend where girls would tie their boyfriends up with ribbons, and put bows made of ribbon on them. I’ve been wanting to do the same to you in private…. and hopefully get some pictures out of it.” You gulp after saying the last sentence. You look down to see that Minho has now closed his eyes. He breathes exaggeratingly outwards, almost like he’s trying to compose himself. 

“So, you’re doing this because really you want to see me tied up and you want pictures of that?” You instantly turn red, quicking seeking cover into his neck to hide how shy you feel when you say, “Yeah, I think it’s hot. It’s one of the things I’ve always wanted to do to you.”

No matter how hard you sometimes tried to hide your motives Minho always saw right through them. He can read you like a book, and that’s truly why you always just plainly tell him what you’re doing before you do things. 

You slowly uncover yourself from the shelter of his neck, finally peering at him to discover he already is, “One of the things?”

Too embarrassed to even mention what else you’ve always wanted to do to him, you reposition the scissors and ribbon in your hands and start measuring how big you want the bows to be. “Hmmm, how many should I put on you?” You successfully dodge the remark as he crosses his arms, glaring at you and your lack of response.

You squint your eyes while looking over his figure, deciding mentally to place two bows on him while tying his arms up. 

You hold your left hand out like you're waiting for him to give you something. 

“Give me your arms so I can tie them up.” You demand. 

Intrigued, Minho does as you say. “How would you like me to place them?” 

Demonstrating, “Lay them flat out where the sides of my hips are.” The warmth of his touch suddenly surrounds your body once more, Minho covering all of your senses. His perfume still lingering from the reminisces he covered himself in this morning before heading to work, his magnetic gaze that was locked on you and your movements, his voice which suddenly woke you out of your Minho heightened trance, and as for taste….well you were already craving him in more ways than one since he was being like putty in your hands right now. 

His lenient mannerisms and compliancy this evening were working you up in all the right ways. 

“I’m waiting for you to tie me up?” His voice continues. It startles you in some way, never imagining you’d hear those words come out of your mouth. His brow ticks. 

“Oh…right.” You begin lacing the ribbon in a tying motion, starting just short of where his biceps start. 

Minho wasn’t one to be submissive. Everytime you guys engaged in sex, he always naturally was the one to take control. It was just in his nature and it was just in yours to be more submissive, complying to almost anything he proposed. And of course, you thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Although, after being together for about a year and two months, you were ready to try something new. Unbeknownst to Minho, you are actually a switch. Yet after the beginning of your relationship you retired that part of yourself naturally when it came to him, since he was very dominant. 

So when you found this trend, you got the sudden urge to try something new and spice up your sex life with your boyfriend. 

And it wasn’t like you guys were vanilla, but you usually stuck to the things that were not foreign to you as a couple. But, you were ready to step out of that comfort zone. 

And right now, it seems like Minho isn’t too opposed to such an idea. That gives you the confidence to continue.

You finish your makeshift confinements on your boyfriend’s arms by cutting and wrapping the ribbon in a bow before you admire your handiwork. 

You softly smile in satisfaction. 

“Alright, now I’ll make a few more bows and stick them to you in different areas.” You look back down at Minho’s arms, “Is it tight or can you easily get out of the ribbon?”

“I mean, I can’t really get out of it, but if I wanted to then yeah I could.” He answers vaguely before humming, agreeing with himself. 

You narrow your eyes, deciding to trust him. 

You make the two bows you plan to plant on him and then begin to place them. 

Taking one of them and putting them on his head, he just stares at you as you manage to securely place it on his black hair so it isn’t easy for it to fall off. Then lastly, you settle with putting the last ribbon in a peculiar spot. Right on his crotch. 

You press it in for good measure, causing Minho to simultaneously move his hands to grip your ass as he lifts his hips, somehow to chase the feeling of your hands ghosting over his dick. He clears his throat after showing a sign of weakness, looking away from you but not shying his hands away from your ass. 

He actually chooses to grip onto it harder.

You tilt your head in feigned curiosity and innocence. 

“You alright?” 

He seems dazed because he doesn’t answer you for a beat.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m good. What made you choose to place it there?” He questions, now looking up and directly into your irises. 

You shrug, actually not having a particular reason. You just wanted to see how he would react.

You hum to yourself like you’re somewhat proud of your work.

“So coquette.” You drop this outlandish word again, Minho having enough of not understanding exactly what the hell it means.

“What? What does that even mean?”

“It just means you look pretty I guess. I don’t really know what it means either. It’s just a Tiktok trend.” You slowly start rubbing your hands over his shoulders, letting them fall downwards into his lap. You decide to unleash yourself of his hold by standing up quickly.

You search for your phone, grabbing it off the coffee table and positioning it in front of him to signal you want your photos like promised.

He doesn’t look pleased. 

“Give me a pretty smile!” You give an example of your own before you’re waiting for him to repeat the action. It goes by ignored, instead being met with a nonchalant gaze that screams “I’m being held hostage. Please help me.”

You frown. 

“Please smile. You’re not aligning with what your shirt says. Don’t you love me?” You whine. 

‘Oh, so you’re pulling that card huh.’ He thinks. 

He smirks. 

“Yeah, I heart you. Just like the shirt says.” He goes for the literal meaning of the shirt, wanting to visibly displease you.

You pout. 

“You’re so annoying.”

Finished with the photo torture time, you throw your phone on the other couch in fake irritability, turning to face him yet again while standing. 

You give him a glance over and then softly smile, picking up your arms to do away with your shirt first and then your pants. You were wearing just some comfortable clothing; An old ‘May the force be with you’ Stars Wars T-shirt paired with the Yoda printed sweatpants you frequented about once a week. It was nothing too fancy of course. What came as a surprise was what was under it.

In preparation for the evening, you wanted to dress up for your boyfriend. Specifically in lingerie. White lingerie.

Whenever you wanted to spice up your sex life, or suprise him, you always took extra care of yourself. This meant taking an “everything” shower, putting on perfume, doing your hair, as well as doing some light makeup. And your choices for lingerie sets always happened to be in the colors you thought that looked best on you; red, black, and sometimes your favorite nude set. 

About two weeks ago, Minho suggested that you try a lingerie set in white, as he thought you would also look sexy in that color as well. He liked the other sets, but he thought that color would really look good on you. You were a little hesitant at first, but his suggestion paired with a kiss on your forehead, his credit card, as well as the words “surprise me” were all you needed to go out of your comfort zone. 

And hell, it surely did surprise him. 

You slowly saunter up to him, getting right back into your claimed spot, his lap (throwing the bunny plushie somewhere else on the couch), and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Do you think this color fits me babe?” You rapidly bat your eyelashes, obviously fishing for compliments. Minho's annoyance from earlier, sleepiness, and hunger completely fades away. His mouth slowly parting in awe. 

“Of course it fits you, you look in anything. God.” He groans, trying to take you all in. 

It was a simple dainty set. A white ribbed corset top with shoulder straps as bows which you tie at the shoulder. There was a collage of cotton flowers joined at the middle of the top, a decorative touch to the already light and airy feel of the lingerie. The bottoms were plain panty underwear, the same cotton flowers in the middle of them as well. 

You looked so good. That’s what he thought to himself before he realized that he had to, no needed to touch you. Right now. 

Right as he does so, his body moving at will is obstructed by the familiar feel of the pink ribbon you had just adorned to his arms, securing him in place. 

“Fuck,” He whines, almost like he’s in pain, “And I can’t even fucking touch you right now?” With all the strength he can muster, he tries to pull outwards to break the ribbon, but he’s too slow. You already knew he’d try something like that, so you, in defense, hold his arms in place.

Suddenly feeling red, you look down.

“You can’t touch me or get out of this ribbon until I say so. You have to do as I say tonight.” Shy, you slowly look up at him again, noticing that his whole demeanor has changed since you’ve uttered those words. 

A light airy chuckle escapes him before he can even hide it.

“What, are you controlling me tonight? Gonna use me?” 

His teasing tone almost sounds like a challenge. He doesn’t think you can do it. Your confidence grows in opposition.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be the dominant one tonight.” You lean in, ghosting over his lips, “And you won’t cum until I say you can.”

You fully press your lips onto his, pulling him as close as you can by wrapping your arms around his neck again, getting a high off of you being the one to order him around tonight. 

It gave you a sense of confidence you’ve never felt when having sex with him, his light moan giving you the confirmation you need to kiss him with a little more fervor. 

You slowly begin to start your pace, your hips beginning to gyrate over the crotch of his black jeans. You feel him reach for you, for something, his hands attempting to latch over the bottom of your ass. 

You smack his hands away, pulling away from the kiss. He desperately chases. You stop your pace.

“You can’t touch me,” You echo again, “I can only touch you? Got it?” Your palms are covering his own, proving your point that he had to do as instructed or he wouldn’t be able to have you. Not in the way he wanted. He throws his head back, as that's the only disobedient way he can act out right now, his long strands of hair sheltering his eyes. 

“Fine, have your way with me. I’ll see how long it’ll truly last. You know you love it when I tell you what to do. When I tell you to fuck yourself on my cock. When I have you cum multiple times on my tongue before I even begin to fuck you. I may not be able to touch you, but I can say whatever I want to you and you’ll be begging me to touch you. ” He mutters, shifting his body deeper into the couch. 

His words send a shiver through your body, the remaining of it fading right into your core. Truly, he was right. You loved it when he touched you, it’s how you completely got off. Yet, somehow denying yourself the satisfaction of feeling his touch and edging yourself was making you wetter than you could even believe.

To you, this was foreplay, and getting the privilege of having Minho in this way was what you could only dream for. You couldn't imagine though, even in your dreams, how he would react to you taking control. That’s what led you to this moment, once again leaning back down to the crook of his neck, whispering. 

“It’s just something I’ve always dreamed of doing to you. It’s one of the things I’ve been wanting to do with you, to you. Now, let me fuck you my way.” You truthfully speak, setting your motion against the fabric of his pants again.

Your boyfriend stays silent, once before being able to stare daggers into your soul, now avoiding eye contact all together. He was clearly flustered. You could tell because he was starting to fill up the space in his pants, his length slowly hardening below you. 

“Awe babe, you’re already getting hard. Tell me how good it feels? Hmm?” You push your pelvis harder into his lap, wanting to get a reaction out of him. 

It’s quiet for a moment. Minho desperately tries not to moan to show the effect you have on him before he gains his composure enough to speak. 

“Tell you how good it feels? How about you stop this charade and explain why you’re already this fucking wet? I can literally feel it through my pants already.” He spits out through his breathing which is slowly getting shallower and shallower. His ears are red, this is how you could tell he was turned on, even if he wouldn't admit it. 

“Of course I’m wet, I have my-” You moan, “My boyfriend in a way I’ve always wanted”

You continue your rebellious movement of your hips against his hardened cock, gasping when it hits your clit in a harmonious way. You look down at your panties, expecting to see your arousal escaping from the thin layer of fabric that is holding you all together. 

To your dismay, there was no visible evidence that you were incredibly wet. But, because of Minho’s comment earlier, you decide to take two of your fingers and check, feeling the remnants of your arousal, making you groan. 

He watches you in suspicion, noticing the way your fingers were easily sliding over the laced cotton of your underwear. His mouth involuntarily opens in awe.

“Ugh, I’m so wet. I’m gonna use you to cum. You can’t take your eyes off of me, okay?” For good measure, you lightly tease your fingers that you just used to touch yourself over his soft lips, Minho taking no time to lick your wetness off your fingers before you lightly rest your hand under the left side of his chin, forcing him to watch you reach your high.

In reality, you didn’t even need to do this, he was going to observe regardless. 

You pick up your pace, grinding up and down and then swirling your hips on his as your moaning gets louder. Your other hand stabilizes yourself on his chest while you begin to melt into your high, the line blurring between where your pleasure starts, and where you end. 

Minho throbs below you, eagerly waiting for you to ride out your orgasm. 

You cum, staring directly into his eyes, rocking back and forth slower to balance out your pleasure. You sigh as you come back to your senses, your hand balling up into a fist to pull your boyfriend closer to you for an everlasting kiss. 

Minho moans into the kiss like he’s cum himself, but truthfully, it was because of the way you just used him to get yourself off. Since he couldn’t touch you, he was feeling very understimulated. He was burning for desire for you, its imminence in the way he still continuously pulses below in your lap as you finish kissing him.  

You get up from off of his lap and sit on your knees below him on the floor. 

“You’re awfully quiet now, what happened to your cockiness?” You smirk, grabbing an elastic band on the coffee table to collect your hair out of your face. 

Your boyfriend decides to stay mute, watching you do away with your hair as you begin to graze your hands up his thighs, your hands meeting at the buckle of his belt. 

You unclasp it, looking up at him to see what he’s doing to see that he’s admiring you contently. You look back at your task at hand, pulling at the belt as Minho simultaneously lifts his hips so you can remove it. 

Currently, you’re wondering why he is so quiet. Did he finally submit? Was he so stunned at your ability to dominate that he was okay with you having your way with him? Or was it because he was so turned on that he couldn’t speak, his flushed body a solid indicator. But his body always gets slightly red when you guys have sex, so that couldn’t be it. 

You don’t let these thoughts bother you anymore, you decide maybe it’s a combination of everything, becoming overconfident in the job that you were doing. You let this spur you on, pulling both his pants and underwear down at once to free his hard cock. He lifts the bottom part of his body, viewing the way you let both articles of clothing to collect at his ankles, not fully taking them off. 

You were too focused on what was in front of you, him rock hard. You grab at his length, eyeing him to notice that his breath hitches, your hands beginning an up and down motion. 

His hips follow the rise and fall of your delicate hands, his breath quickening. The scene placed in front of you was heating up your body. You’ve never seen him this pliant under your hand, so eager, so willing to follow or let you command or do whatever you wanted to him. You’re not even being touched, yet your breath follows in sync with him, steadily increasing. 

Noticing he’s still quiet, it starts to concern you. Trying to busy yourself to distract from his silence, you lock eyes with him once again, noting that he was peering at you before you even were. You softly simper, pushing your head down until you take him all in one go, now breaking eye contact to focus on sucking him. 

As you embark on bobbing your head over his throbbing length, multiple things happen at once. At the same time, you hear something snapping and a piece of clothing falling onto the floor. A split second after, you’re moaning over his length, not because it was bringing you pleasure, but because you were being pulled quickly off of his dick. Your eyes go wide once you realize what happened, it comes together when your back hits the arm of the couch with Minho on top of you. 

He broke free.

Your mouth is open in shock as his mischievous smile stares down at you. 

“Minh-” Calling his name, he managed while freeing himself, to collect the ribbon you had used on him. He was pulling your arms above your head as you were trying to get your sentence out.

Minho successfully traps you in your own game. Similar to him before, your hands were now tied with pink ribbon at the wrist, you bewildered at the whole situation. He changed the game. 

He softly pulls you down the couch a little so your arms are comfortable above your head. Then, he leans down to give you a quick soft kiss. 

“Got you.” He arrogantly declares, reaching his hand over the table in front of the couch to grab the scissors, so he could cut the endless length of the ribbon he had tied to your wrists. 

He places the scissors back onto the table.

“But I was supposed to be the dominant one tonight.” You pout. 

“And you did good babe, but you know you love it when I touch you,” He leans in to trail kisses down the corner of your neck, listening as he hears you groan, “and kiss you, “his hands start to graze your body before it gets to your pussy, cupping you between your legs, “and fucking you open with my tongue.” You let out an embarrassing loud moan, not being phased by it since Minho loved to hear you. 

His kisses, which stopped just before your covered breasts, continue their pace until he’s leaving a trail down your stomach, purposely skipping over your throbbing core to kiss the inside of your thighs. Your whole back arches off the couch, whining when you can’t push Minho’s head in the place you need him most. 

He chuckles. 

“Now you see how I felt when I couldn’t touch you hmm? It was killing me watching you grind on me when I couldn’t push your hips or when you took me all the way into your mouth and I couldn’t push your head down.” His kisses start getting closer to your pussy once more. 

He teases as if he’s about to kiss your core over the thin fabric of your underwear. Instead, he stops his mouth just before he reaches it, talking right into your heat. 

“It’s not fun is it? You better be glad I lasted as long as I did in that ribbon.” He explains, looking directly into your eyes. 

You throw a fit, your legs shaking on the sides of him in annoyance because he won’t touch you where you needed him. 

He lets you out of your misery finally as you are whining, the whining turning into a satisfied hum when he latches his touch onto the soaked cotton of your underwear. He groans when he tastes you on the material, taking his time to lap up the juices spilling out. 

“Touch me.” You cry, rolling your body towards his lips, wanting more. 

Minho ticks his brow and lets out an airy chuckle. “I am touching you babe.”

He finds you cute and decides to give in to your requests since he knew what you meant. 

He tugs at your underwear which is clinging to the sides of your hips, pulling them down your legs until they're out of the way, throwing them carelessly onto the floor somewhere. 

You ache in anticipation for him to mouth at you, watching him get back into position to give you what you desired most at this moment; his mouth fully on you. 

The moment his lips kiss softly at your clit, you begin to see stars. He proceeds to lick you straight after, your head throwing back in immense pleasure. 

“Fuck,” You groan, your eyes following your head and rolling back. 

“Tell me how you feel ___.” He chimes, watching as your body tenses below him. It turned him on to great heights to see you this fucked out, his hips rocking into the couch to relieve himself. 

“Good.” You manage to get out between shaky breaths, Minho sucking at your clit before he licks a long stripe across the span of your pussy, him humming into you in satisfaction. You feel the vibration of his groaning below you, adding to the pleasure and washing an intense feeling throughout your body. You were close, and you needed something to grip onto.

Normally, when you were about to cum from Minho eating you out, you had your hands clutching to the back of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your pussy. It helped you balance the unstable feeling that overcame your body whenever you were about to release. Now, since your hands were tied, you couldn’t brace yourself. You didn’t know what was about to happen with this knot in your stomach when you were about to release at any second. 

All you could do was announce it. 

“I-I’m about to cum. Minho, I can’t, I don’t know ho-” You lewdly rushed, your body beginning to shake in cosmic tension. 

Too busy with the objective of making you cum, he lifts his left arm out to successfully hold your hand, nonverbally letting you know that he has you and that you’re okay. 

The wave of your pleasure strikes down like a tide that is beginning to crash down onto the shore of a beach, strong yet beautiful. It collects into one singular emotion before it releases in one single motion, Minho lapping at your pussy as you let go. Your body spasms as your orgasm comes to its final end, a gush of remaining pleasure that wasn’t released at that one moment, now finally letting go. 

With your eyes closed, you try to collect your breathing before you hear your boyfriend louding moaning below you, grabbing your attention. You look down, eyes widening in shock. 

Minho’s face was completely wet, a few front pieces of his hair that frames his face damp as well. As you put two and two together, you drop your jaw in collective embarrassment surprise. 

You just squirted on your boyfriend’s face. 

Because of this stupid ribbon, you can’t even cover your face, having to watch him as his ears quickly become red again, the flushing slowly diffusing to his face. 

You physically can't talk right now, not when you just squirted all over his face. It could have been anywhere else, yet it had to be there the first time you squirt. You close your eyes, waiting for him to say something, anything to get rid of this terrible silence. 

Quickly, you feel him shuffle and he’s on top of you now, passionately kissing your lips. You slowly start to kiss him back and slowly open your eyes, feeling him grind his bare cock on your wet pussy. You groan before he detaches. 

He looks you dead in the eyes. 

“I literally had to stop myself from cumming after you just squirted all over my face. Fuck, that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re perfect.” He goes in to peck your lips once more before he squabbles off of you a bit to grab the scissors again, cutting away your restraints. 

Suddenly, you’re no longer embarrassed. Sharing the same soft loving smile he gives you as he cuts your ribbon off. 

He once more places the scissors safely back on the table before he brings his attention back to you, laying on top of you again. 

He searches your eyes. 

“Got one more orgasm in you? Let me make love to you.” He softly speaks, waiting for your approval. You nod, excited since you can actually grip his hair now and touch him. You’re sure he’s in pain now since he’s been hard for a while. He always makes sure you orgasm first before he does.

He starts by tugging at the left and right bows of your corset top which are keeping it on you. You arch your back, waiting for your boyfriend to unzip the corset so you’re free. He discards it onto the ground. Then he lowers himself and latches onto your left nipple, observing as you wilt in pleasure, you pressing his head down closer as he grips at your right breast with his other hand. 

He again grinds his pulsing cock into your center, humming into your tit. 

Realizing something, you softly push him off of you. He looks at you concerned. 

“My plushies!” You suddenly realized your near and dear plushies were probably getting squeezed on the couch under Minho’s legs. He quickly searches for them, pulling all three from under his weight and putting two of them on the side where your head was, while he remains holding one of them. 

“What?” You look at him bewildered like he doesn’t realize how important they are to you. Minho doesn’t understand, so trying to fix the problem, he covers the eyes of the one he’s holding, as if they aren’t supposed to see us naked. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, “You’re so weird,” You tease, “I just didn’t want them to get squished before we continued.” 

“Oh.” He states, like saving them was the most important thing in the world right now. 

Knowing he’s done with you right now because you stopped having sex with him to save your expensive plushies, you push him to sit on the couch below you while you sit on his lap. 

“Now, I’ll fuck you since my stuffed animals are unharmed.” You tease before you softly smirk.

You bring your hand to the middle of your bodies, aligning his cock to your entrance before you slowly sit directly on him, taking him all the way in.

He groans, swiftly holding onto your hips to help stabilize you as you bounce on top of you. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, now staring at him. 

“Now, admit that me being dominant does turn you on.” You playfully suggest, circling your hips on his lap as you continue your pace. You moan, leaning down to kiss his lips before you await his response. 

“Of course it turns me on, but-” He holds you harder at your hips. “I just like fucking you more.”

He lifts his hips off of the couch, and begins a ruthless upward pace into you, completely taking you off guard. You hold onto anything you can find, dumbfounded that Minho’s stamina can reach even higher heights.

You moan repeatedly, letting him pound into your pussy below you as you feel another orgasm approaching. You don’t even have to let him know you’re about to cum, he can feel it with the way you go silent, and the sudden tight grip you have around his cock that is also stringing him closer to his own release.

Minho starts to sweat, his stamina even putting a toll on himself. Thank god he and you were about to cum soon.

Your eyes begin to roll back, his pounding finally demolishing you from above him even though you were the one that had the power in this position. 

You cum without warning, legs squeezing as close as they can below you as you fall, laying your head into the corner of your boyfriend's neck, utterly spent. Minho keeps up his pace, signaling to himself that now that you’ve cum that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore. 

He slows his motion, instead replacing it with a hard lingering pounding into your pussy. He cums just like that, quick and with a loud grunt. He wraps his arms around your back, hugging you softly as he comes back down from his high. He finishes off by pecking your forehead with a soft “I love you” that he didn’t say earlier when you put the shirt on him. You wrap your arms around him in return and squeeze, letting him know you heard him.

After a few minutes of recovering, you leave the comfort of his neck, sitting up in his lap to look into his brown eyes. 

He smiles at you. You lift your hand to move the strands of hair in front of his eyes. 

Then suddenly, he’s chuckling, then full out laughing. 

Your eyebrows twist in confusion.

He speaks.

“You know…we just fucked to the Fortnite loading screen music this whole time?” Refusing to believe him, you listen closely to your surroundings, noticing some music.

Omg, it was the Fortnite loading music.

You throw your head back in a fit of giggles.

“Either way, I’ll be glad to make you squirt again if this is the kind of music that you're into, we can make a playlist.” He teasingly comments.

You playfully hit him softly before you’re covering your face in embarrassment, revisioning the whole encounter with the background music. 

This was my first ever fanfic on this account! Let me know what you think! :)

Copyright © 2024 softlee

All Rights Reserved.

[jeonghantis]

✧ — NO INHIBITIONS, STRANGE CONDITIONS.

PAIRING ⇝ kim mingyu x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

road safety could not hold you back from wanting your boyfriend despite how stupid of a idea it is. kim mingyu was just as stupid.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut, pwp.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader but with female parts & wears skirts, distracted driving (DRIVE SAFELY PLEASE), explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

WORD COUNT ⇝ 3.7k words.

note: welp. LOL! mingyu driving drove me mad. this is 2 of 2 fics in celebration of mingyu month. a complete 180 from the first one i fink! oops! and yes i'm aware it's may now and i apologize deeply. but celebrating mingyu should be an all-time thing. the title is taken from the song leaving me feeling confident by the driver era. don't think the song would go specifically with the fic, i just liked the wording. this is completely self-indulgent so as always, not proofread hehe. not as good as i hoped it would be but i hope you enjoy regardless.

reblog for kim mingyu. thats it. (and to support me).

smut tags under the cut.

SMUT TAGS ⇝ ROAD HEAD! (dick sucking while driving), dom/sub dynamics, switch!mingyu, switch!reader, mingyu is kinda sub until he's not, reader is dom until they're not, size kink (reader is smaller than mingyu), use of the petname "darling" "baby" & "angel", dirty talk, praise (reader gets called "pretty"), degradation (whore, slut), hairpulling, mild begging, groping, oral (m), fingering (f), gagging, throatfucking, cunt slapping (once), cum eating, mingyu is ROUGH (man does not know his own strength but is caring afterwards), reader being used as a toy, cockdumb and cock hungry reader, reader probably got major oral fixation, big dick!mingyu like Big Big (could imagine mingyu being ridiculously big or reader just has small hands).

Wandering hands had become quite a shared habit, how natural it was for their fingers to gravitate towards each other. It was always welcomed, of course, when it acted as a need of comfort from the other. When there was not one moment where they were not craving for each other.

But this was a problem. Several problems. Two very conflicting problems.

First, not only is your hand caressing him at the moment, it’s artfully roving over to his crotch. And Mingyu truly loved your bold actions and might have appreciated it if it had been within the confines of their apartment. But it was in the confines of his car, in the middle of a highway.

Second, the problem to the first problem, was that this was his wet dream come true.

It’s a no-brainer what should be deemed more urgent. Mingyu didn’t want to careen their vehicle over the edge and risk their very lives for the sake of getting his dick wet. 

But. 

But the danger, although he knows it should, doesn’t entirely frighten him. It was a wet dream for a reason.

But Mingyu should be smart about this. He has to be smart about this.

Meanwhile, you’re thinking you may be utterly stupid about this. 

Most times, you would consider yourself a cautious person—someone who would always second-guess every decision, and hell, maybe third or even fourth-guessed. Truly, you were an overthinker. Sometimes, you wished you could just stop thinking altogether.

And that time has come now. There was absolutely no question of your decision, not even a single thought process done, when you reached to palm your boyfriend’s clothed dick. You only knew that you were being ridiculous, but it was because Mingyu looked ridiculously hot right now driving the way he does, glancing at you and smiling the way he does. What the hell were you supposed to do?

What you’re saying next is entirely pulled out of the shallowest part of your brain riddled with unbridled lust. And it challenges Mingyu’s logic and worsens his agony.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” you ask innocently, peering at him with big, curious eyes. 

“I might kill us both, babe,” Mingyu said, pearly canines bared when he wore a strenuous smile. He spares an urgent glance at how your hand sits perfectly atop his growing erection, nails dragging on denim. His grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“I trust that you won’t. You’re a good driver,” you claim, smiling sharply as you give him a tilt of your head. “Is that a no?”

There was no immediate response from him, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the road that lay ahead. Yet, you still caught the clench of his jaw under the flash of a streetlamp, the whitening of his knuckles. It was insanely unfair how Mingyu could still look so gorgeous when frustration twisted his features—or was it you who simply loved seeing his frustrations?

Mingyu weighed his options. Their apartment was still many ways away, he doesn’t know if he could tough it out for that long. He’s thankful the highway is nearly void of other cars, but is utterly bitter over how it stretches on seemingly forever, leaving him no room to pull over at all. He had to maintain focus on the winding paths. He tried not to think of the deft work of your hand on him. He tried not to think of how your mouth would soon replace it. But his pleasure-ridden body betrays him miserably—his hips lifting itself into a slow rut right against your hand.

“Endangering our lives just so you could fill your slut of a mouth,” Mingyu spelled out slowly, each word sharp. “Is that what you really want?”

“Yeah,” you chirp, entirely unaffected by his tone and he could practically hear the smirk in yours. “You could say no.”

He looks at you. “I could.”

“So, say it.”

A sliver of a smile as he turns away again. “I don’t think I will.”

“Oh?” The flutter deep in your stomach intensified, the anticipation having you on the edge seat almost quite literally as you’re leaning closer, adding a little more weight on his crotch. “Why not?”

“Because I dreamt of this,” he divulges, an airy sigh slipping from his lips. “Dreamt of your pretty lips wrapped around my cock in the middle of traffic, of your frustration when I’m unable to help you force my entire length down your throat.” 

“How filthy,” you jest, a shit-eating grin pulling your lips wider.

A pointed gaze. “You literally just offered to suck my dick in the first place.”

A shrug. “Fair.” 

Mingyu’s right hand reached for yours. The largeness of his palm fully encompasses your own as he presses down on it, applying enough delightful friction on himself for a strangled moan to get caught in his throat. 

“Just do it,” he exhales, his breathing ragged. “My dick is about to explode.”

“What a poet,” You snicker and give his dick a playful squeeze which only earns more of his choked noises. But thankfully, you’re merciful as you are excited and reckless. He hears the rustle against leather as you’re maneuvering yourself, folding your legs under you. His heart beats a little loudly against his chest, thrumming up to his ears and down to his dick, as lithe, dainty fingers make quick work on his belt and the button of his jeans. 

“Keep your eyes on the road for me, baby,” you say as your hand dives in to finally, finally, bring his awaiting cock out. “We both don’t want to be dead so soon before I give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“Then hurry up,” Mingyu seethes through gritted teeth.

He’s nearly at full length, and though you’ve held him countless times, you’re still marveling at the sheer size of him, how he sits heavily on your palm, throbbing thickly. Your fingers just barely come into a circle when you start to stroke him with an unhurried and leisurely pace, feeling the full extent of him.

“This hard just from me groping you?” you coo, tone a honeyed venom, as you run a thumb over his slit. “Trying to act all cool with me when you’re just as desperate to fill my slut of a mouth.” 

“Baby,” Mingyu said with heavy breaths that taper off into croaked groans. “Please don’t tease.”

“Don’t be so impatient,” you tut. “I promise I’ll make you feel good, but you have to be good and keep driving. Can you do that for me?” 

Mingyu swallows hard, the lump on his throat bobbing, and gives an obedient nod of his head before adjusting himself with a straightened back which might’ve been the umpteenth time he’s done so since you’ve offered your sinful proposal. 

“Good,” you hum, preening at his easy compliance, and dip your head down.

Mingyu bites down on his bottom lip hard when you take one small, tentative lick at his weeping slit. A ditzy giggle bubbles up your throat when he throbs almost immediately in response and your hand squeezes at the base of his cock in return. You continue with a few more teasing flicks, lapping up the bitter taste of him on your tongue, and only when you feel Mingyu’s thighs flex and strain to jerk up into your mouth do you ultimately indulge him.

“Oh fuck,” the poor man cusses out when you down him as much as you could, your mouth a luscious wet warmth as it envelopes around him. “Holy fuck, baby, that’s so good.” 

You hum appreciatively around his unbelievable girth, sending vibrations coursing down the just as unbelievable length that only has Mingyu whimpering praises more. A hand makes up for the rest of him that your mouth couldn’t quite reach just yet; it works in perfect tandem with your slackened jaw as your head begins to bob up and down on him.

Mingyu does not dare steal a glance in total fear of losing all sense of himself at what is most definitely the most lecherous view of his fantasies coming to life. His head stays firmly pinned against the leather-clad headrest, twitching eyes hell-bent on the road. But he could still hear the obscenity of it, all the wet glugs and sucks as your cheeks hollow out for him, and it does all but aid his concentration, gradually winding a burning hot coil deeply set in the pit of his stomach. The wandering habit presented itself as his right hand began to move (thanking the high heavens for making him left-handed), and glided over your back and all the way down under the impossibly short skirt you wore.

“That’s it, angel,” Mingyu drawls out in encouragement, his hand grabbing at the supple flesh of your ass. “You’re taking me so well.”

Hearing his praise and feeling his straying hand only spurs you to dip your head lower, attempting to swallow down more of him. There’s a sense of satisfaction when he bumps the back of your throat and you find that you have been able to take more than half of him in your mouth. But it’s fleeting when the latter half of Mingyu’s dream comes to light sooner than anticipated—that frustration, a consuming greed, of wanting to take him whole. And like he alluded to, you knew it wasn’t possible if he wasn’t fucking your mouth open, which is entirely out of the question. You’re still trying for some form of compensation—a hand wringing at the base, tongue lapping hungrily at the sides of his cock with lewd slurps—and it all comes out good when jerking out moans from Mingyu, but it’s short in appeasing you. It’s desperation now that’s having you creep further along his length, and it’s so so messy with the obscene amount of saliva cascading down his shaft, coating him with a wet sheen. You resist the urge to gag every time he hits the back of your throat and try to veer your focus on breathing through flared nostrils, eyes fluttering shut in concentration. 

It’s laughable how easily that focus is broken when prying fingers begin to pull your flimsy underwear. 

“I couldn’t help myself,” Mingyu averred, flashing a sly smile your way, before he’s gliding a calloused digit over your folds, gathering at the wetness trickling out.

Your mewls are broken and garbled, a new surge of spit gushing down, dripping on his lap. Instinctively, your hips swivel back hungrily in search of more blissful friction, as you peer up at him through wet lashes, a stray tear flowing down your cheek. 

Mingyu catches it when he casts a quick glance again. He notes the utter desperation contorting your expression, the glistening cheeks a sign of your eminent passion, and something deep inside him both inflames and melts at the same time. His eyes are assessing the road when it flickers back up, and there—the greatest silver lining known to man (just Mingyu) kissing the dusky sky—is the end of the highway. He doesn’t speed for it, no, instead he forgoes it, just the slightest bit as his foot eases off the pedal. He forgoes it for the sake of securing the vehicle, for the sake of slipping his a finger inside your wet channel as a reward for the glorious way you worship his cock. 

The surprised, choked-out groan you exude goes straight to his dick, quite literally. And he’s echoing it, staggered but loud enough to drown out the music flowing from the speakers. 

“I’ll pull over soon,” Mingyu imparts, gently hooking the digit and stroking your walls. “Just a little longer, baby, then I’ll fuck your throat. You’d like that too, won’t you?”

You pull off him with a satisfying pop, a string of spit threading between his cock and your glistening lips that’s quickly broken when both hands replace where your mouth’s been, stroking hard and fast. You glance up at him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, holding back your moans as your hips sway back into his finger. 

“Be quick,” you whisper, eyelids flickering, and you lean back down to trace the veins along his cock with your tongue. “I want all of you in my mouth. I want you to bury your fingers in me. I want you to abuse me until I'm a mess of spit and tears.”

Fuck. 

Mingyu slams on the acceleration. He’s still commandeering the vehicle securely with one hand, but the finger inside you goes still, letting you use it as you please with shallow rocks of your hips and clenches of your walls. He takes a right when the road opens up and pulls up in a relatively empty parking lot very swiftly with the practiced ease of the seasoned driver he was.

Up until then, you were suckling on his tip, coaxing thick, pearly rivulets out of him onto your tastebuds. If it had been possible to be drunk off of precum, you certainly appeared to be buzzed out of your mind with how much you were giggling and lapping at him for more. You were impossibly gone in the pleasure of giving your boyfriend pleasure that you weren't given enough time to prepare yourself for the absolute reckless and barbaric nature that would be forced upon you.

Safely parked, Mingyu ignored the garbled whines when he pulled his finger away from your clenching walls as he goes to quickly undo his seatbelt. Mingyu reached for two firm fistfuls of your hair, used it as a rein to properly align your mouth for him to shove his way inside promptly without so much of a warning. Gone was his usual gentle nature, he’s completely ruthless. The power of his thrusts is terrifyingly inhumane, his sac slapping up against your chin with ease now that he waives your own comfort. He’s focused on gaining his pleasure and his alone.

“Better?” Mingyu laughs darkly. “Were you struggling all this time? Is your mouth filled up enough now? C’mon, pretty baby. Let me hear those gags.”

You do let him hear it, all the gurgles and violent retches made around him. You fucking know this’ll leave you voiceless the next day—hell, maybe for the next few days if you continue moaning against the repeated force—and yet you’re still indulging him, conceding your entire being to him almost too easily, almost too enthusiastically. 

Like the sick person you were, the brutality has you practically soaking wet through the fabric of your underwear. If you weren’t in such a rough position, you might’ve reached back to relieve yourself of the incessant throbbing of your core. And Mingyu held the mantle now, your authority beaten right out of you, so you weren’t so sure if he would appreciate you doing anything else other than being his cocksleeve.

So instead, with tears a steady stream down your face and lips red and swollen, you let him abuse you, narrowing your focus on the sliding weight of his dick on your tongue, your head laxed for him to fully control with no restraints or complaints. A perfect little toy.

Your pleasurable suffering wouldn’t last for long. Mingyu was close to breaking himself. You feel his thighs tense from where you gripped him for balance, his panted moans rising in volume against your ears. 

“You’re going to swallow everything I give you, you got that?” Mingyu drawled. “Every single bit. You wanted your mouth filled, yeah? You take it all, darling.”  

Your responding, muddled moans are a warm wet ring around him. If you could see him, you’d find how pleasure cruelly contorts his features. It takes a couple more messy, stuttered strokes then the burning coil inside him that wound so tightly snapped so violently. A surge of warmth overwhelms Mingyu, his muscles tensing and seizing, and a long, broken noise is ripped right out of his chest, as he comes in thick ropes of white right into your mouth.

The salty, warm cum of him glides down your throat like melted cream. You do try to guzzle it all down as told, but he always comes in such heavy loads. Coughs threaten to tear your throat but you’re suppressing them with the greatest effort until hot tears streak down your cheeks, your chest heaving wildly. 

“So good,” Mingyu exhales, his grip on you loosened as he takes to petting your hair with such affection as he rides out the remainders of his high. “You’re so good for me, angel.”

Satisfied after gulping down the last spurt of him, you finally let up with a small whimper, your frame quivering as you sat yourself back on your folded legs, your eyes eager when it found him. Mingyu still looked unbelievably good sweaty and flushed. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what you might have looked like with your hair strewn about and swollen lips.

Mingyu didn’t seem to care. He was smiling at you with great fondness as if he had not just abused your mouth like a mere plaything. He reached to wipe some excess cum on your chin with a thumb before immediately shoving past your swollen lips. Still quite pliant, you lick it up earnestly, giving another wanton moan around him.

“Fuck,” Mingyu starts, huffing out a breathy laugh. “You’re my wet dream come true.”

“You’re welcome,” you try to lilt, but it comes out raspy and painful. 

Mingyu notices the wince in your expression and frowns, a hand immediately moving to cradle the side of your throat tenderly. “Does it hurt?”

“Well, you were not exactly gentle, Gyu,” you pointed out humorously, but caught sight of the slight concern lining his face and you quickly followed up with, “But I loved it a lot. It was hot. You were hot.”

Mingyu still looked concerned but at least the corners of his lips twitched at your addition. “I could tell you loved it. You took me really well, angel.”

“And I’d do it again and again,” you said, grinning. “Even though I’m pretty sure my windpipe is bruised.”

His hand lifts to hold the side of your face, a thumb smoothing over your cheek, as he looks over you for a moment. There’s a strange little glint in his eyes, and in your recovering state, you couldn’t quite place what it was, but it has your stomach churning again.

“I should make it up to you, shouldn’t I?” Mingyu murmurs, head cocked to the side as he smiles.

“Could you?” you ask in turn, voice soft. “Please?”

“I’ll take care of you,” he croons, raising his hand up to brush your hair back, his fingers threading through your hair. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

Mingyu reaches over you, promptly maneuvering your seat backwards. He eases you until you’re laying flat on your back, and his hands move to grip at your thighs, lifting them and spreading them wide. The breeze that hits your cunt has you trembling and you feel absolutely exposed when Mingyu only watches your tiny frame unfold before him, eyes drinking in the sight with an insatiable hunger. He brushes a knuckle over your soaked folds, tentative, before pressing it roughly against your throbbing clit. You’re whining, arching your back off the seat as a rush of searing pleasure courses up your veins.

You’re whining even louder when Mingyu draws back. You try to reach for his arm but it’s useless when it’s thickly corded with so much power.

“Looks like I didn’t ruin your throat enough if you’re this fucking whiny,” Mingyu remarked sharply with a laugh. He does reach a hand back but your excitement quickly fizzles out just as it spikes when a slap lands quick and sharp on your cunt and you’re jerking in your seat. “Sit still and wait quietly.”

You press your quivering lips into a thin line and nod your head obediently.

With a pleased smile, he pulls back once again. He fixes himself, shoving his dick back into his underwear, followed by sweeping his long hair back and away from his face. He takes his sweet time and doesn’t spare you a single glance as if you weren’t there at all, all the while you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, the anticipation simmering sickly in your stomach. Then, he’s suddenly reaching for the gear shift, setting the car in reverse, and pulling out of the parking lot.

“W-Where are we going?” you asked urgently.

“Home,” Mingyu replied casually, turning the wheel adeptly with one hand. “Where else?”

You looked down at yourself, at the compromising position he forced you in and forced you to hold. “But - ?”

As if to answer your question, his right hand roves over to you and between your legs. He starts with a press on your clit, then caresses the roughened pad of his finger down to where you leak, before bringing it right back up to start again, and again, and again.

“I promise I’ll make you feel good, baby” Mingyu echoes your words, a vicious smile pulling his lips. “But you have to be good and hold yourself up like that. Can you do that for me?”

“Are you getting back at me?” You meant for your words to come out as an aggravated hiss, but it came out pathetically as a soft whimper.

“Yes,” he responded, not wasting a beat, and peers at you, a dark glimmer in his eyes. “And because this is another wet dream of mine.”

“How lucky,” you start, taking in a shaky breath when Mingyu rubs short, tight circles on your sensitive nub. “How lucky you get to fulfill two of your dreams today.”

“It’s all because of you,” Mingyu grins and, without warning, slides two thick fingers inside you. “Now, answer the question.”

“Yes,” you gasp out immediately, the sudden breach stinging so sharply, but your walls gave a sickly delighted spasm around him anyway. Your arms come up and hook themselves around your knees, bringing it up to your heaving chest. “Yes, I can.”

“Good,” he hums, curling the digits and pressing it roughly against the sweet nerves inside you. “Tough it out because this time, I will not be pulling over.”

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