ಠ_ಠwarning/content: MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. large age gap (40s/young adult), DUBCON, power imbalance, fem!reader is made to do everything san asks or else he'll stop being her financial support, taking the condom off, unprotected, manipulative praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, pet names: baby, sweetheart, angel, doll, good girl, sweet thing
➯a/n: my fic for @everyonewooeverywhere 's secret admirer event is finally here ! for the one, the only... @wicked-disposition !!!! i had so so many ideas and drafts but this is finally where we've landed. i know you like to dabble in darker subjects but i kept it on the light (??) side. it's not as long as i had hoped to make something for you, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless <33
"Don't you want to show me how grateful you are, baby?"
It's what your sugar daddy said before things got sexual, like he promised they never would.
It's what he said to get you to cut off your friends when they questioned the growing relationship between you.
It's what he says to get his way.
"Don't you? Hm?" He hums deeply, forehead pressed to yours. "Show Daddy how much you mean it."
"I mean it, Daddy," you moan softly, trying to wiggle your hips below his and entice him to move. "I do."
But he's balls deep and not moving after he's cum into the condom, still pent up and hard inside of you — and asking for something past your boundaries.
"C'mon, sweetheart," he pecks your lips softly, "it'll make me so happy. So, so, so happy... That I might just forget about how you were late for the class that I pay for."
"I told you, Daddy, I had car troubles-"
"Who paid for that car? And to get it fixed too? Hm? Was it you?" His sweet demeanor is gone, now smooshing your cheeks as he grabs your face in his large hand.
"No, Daddy." Your face burns hot with embarrassment, but there's nothing you can do. Not now.
"Who did?"
"You did, Daddy."
"That's right~" His saccharine praising tone is mocking, but it still makes your cunt flutter around him. "And what do you say?"
"Thank you, Daddy."
"You mean that, baby?"
"Yes."
The next words out of his mouth make your heart drop to your stomach. "Then prove it and let me fuck my doll raw."
"Yes, Daddy," you whimper as he pushes your face lightly, swallowing thick as he pulls out — inch by thick inch.
"That's my good girl," he coos, more earnestly than before, as he takes the condom off and tosses it aside carelessly. "Giving Daddy what he wants, that's how I know you mean it."
You bite at your lip as you nod, watching his bare cock as it inches closer to your wet cunt. "You- You'll pull out, right?"
"No, I won't." He groans, deep in his throat as he sinks into you, "fuck, baby~" He nuzzles his head against yours, setting a slow and mind-numbing pace that makes your jaw drop. "Feel that? Feel me?"
A soft, "uh-huh," comes past your parted lips. You can feel every vein on his thick girth, every ridge and the heat of it — oh, the heat of it.
"You know how you can pay me back, angel, for everything?"
"H-how?"
"Let me fuck this pretty little pussy raw until the end of time, let me fill you up and make you a Mommy. How's that sound?"
"You'll still be my Daddy?" You meet his eyes with a pout, manicured nails dragging down his back slowly and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"Oh, always, sweet thing," he smiles, cupping your cheek in his palm and stroking your cheekbone softly. "Just keep Daddy happy, and he'll never ever leave."
"Promise? You'll take care of me?"
"I promise, baby." He smiles, and his age shows in the wrinkles around his eyes. Such a small thing, but you always like to think it shows his wisdom. Daddy knows best, after all.
"Kiss me?"
And you never have to ask for anything twice. Daddy will always give you what you want. It's probably... it is fair you do the same.
He presses his lips to yours softly and cradles your face, his hips keeping a slow and steady pace.
"Good girl," he hums against your lips before moving up, tucking your head under his chin and hugging you tight before he begins hammering his hips into yours — loud smacks of skin against skin and his deep breaths nearly drowned out by your ecstasy-filled moaning.
"Good fucking girl, giving Daddy what he wants~"
Just keep being a good girl, he means. Keep giving him whatever he wants. And he'll do the same for you.
➾In Which: He's watching. He's drooling. He's so hungry. He's so pent up. He can't decide which way he'd rather devour you.
RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.
❥Jeong Yunho x fem reader
Star's Fairytale July
♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, historical fantasy, DEAD DOVE
➯non-con disclaimer: non-con is NOT okay in real life. this is ONLY EVER acceptable in FICTIONAL settings (and even then it's fucked up)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: a spin on "Little Red Riding Hood", werewolf yunho / red riding hood reader, reader is smart and cautious but not enough, maybe soul mates (you decide lmao), stalking, yunho eats humans + has enhanced speed and strength + has retractable fangs and claws, fangs and claws put to use against reader (no major injuries) and her grandma (nom-nom-nomming on that granny: he eats her off screen), reader implied to be younger than yunho, forced claiming, crazy size difference. ಠ_ಠnon-con to dub-con, marathon, big ol knot, spit (everywhere), biting and hickeys everywhere, yunho is not only a monster but a needy and nasty one, yuyu insane breeding kink, rough + soft, sweaty, cunnilingus, only slight attempts from yunho to make it even a bit bearable at first, forced orgasm, overstimulation + subsequent dumbification, nasty kissing, copious amounts of werewolf cum, pet names: variations of pretty, little, sweet, thing, precious, girl, deer (yes, as in the animal)
➯a/n: someone said "you can always trust star to cook" and i haven't stopped thinking about it since, i hope i cooked well enough for yall to eat this up kkkkk here's the first fairytale, enjoy <3 ➯a/n2: i don't trust the queue not to eat this so im posting it early ! happy july lmaoooo
"Are you certain that you remember the path to take?" Your mother fusses over you as she pulls your crimson cloak over your shoulders.
It's the dead of winter, and you're layered up to stay warm on your journey; gloved hands holding your wicker basket tightly.
"Yes, mother. I've been walking it since I was a girl."
"It's been a while, perhaps- yes, perhaps I should just come with you!" You grab her hand as she goes to grab her own coat, smiling reassuringly at her.
"Really," you say with a shrug, "I can make it on my own. You need to stay and tend to the shop. I will be back before long."
She drops her arm with a sigh, nodding slowly, "I shall hold you to that. Don't linger with her too long, you may catch the retched sickness."
"Harsh, mother," you laugh a bit as you pull her into a hug, "I will take good care of her and return home safely."
"You're such a blessing," she smiles, rubbing your back for a moment before pulling back. "Off you get, before you lose the light."
You give her a final smile and head out the door, hearing her yell after you.
"Stay on the path!"
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The hunger is getting near unbearable.
Nearly as bad as the aching in his knot — begging to swell up and lock into something warm.
Yunho stumbles his way closer to the cleared path. He knows it's dangerous. It's off-limits. Humans would try to kill him if they caught onto his lineage. And in his state; they might even be successful.
But the hunger outweighs the nagging in the back of his head that tells him it's a bad idea.
Game is few and far between with such freezing temperatures. And the more time that passes, the weaker he gets. The less likely he is to be able to catch those pesky rabbits that practically taunt him when they scurry away.
Just his luck that he would start rutting during a hunting dry-spell. He needs more energy than ever — and he needs a mate. He'd been toughing it out for the past few years on his own and his wolf is beyond tired of it.
He crouches down just a bit far away from the path, zoning in on it with his sharp vision.
Nothing. He expected as much. Not a lot of humans would venture out of their villages during weather like this.
But — he hears you.
He hears you before he sees you; his ears practically twitching at the sound of small bells.
Food. Food. Food. His wolf chants.
He leans on his palms, looking up and down the length of the path quickly. Where? Where?
He sniffs the air, already standing up straight the very millisecond he gets a whiff of your scent. Swallowing his gathering saliva; he follows it. Using the trees as cover so you'd never see him coming.
He sees you before you even know he's there.
Wandering at a leisurely but meaningful pace, red hood of your cloak hiding your face from the cold — and from him. The jingling bells are attached to the belt on your waist, sounding off with each of your steps; to ward off predators.
You smart thing, you.
Only, it did the exact opposite with this particular predator.
Food. Food. F-
His eyes can't help but fall to the way your skirts move with every step, every small sway of your hips. His lip twitches upward as his fangs push through his gums, a low snarl coming up his throat that makes you stop in your tracks.
Mate. Mate. Mate. The incessant voice in his mind pounds against his head.
Drool slides out of the corner of his mouth without his knowledge, and he barely has the wits about him to duck when you turn to the source of the noise. He crawls ever closer, silent as a mouse, grinning wide as you reach into your cloak and pull out a small dagger from your hip.
He likes when humans have a little fire in them.
Whether he's fucking them or eating them, he likes it when they put up a little bit of a fight.
Will you drive the knife into him if he sinks his teeth into you? Will you try to crawl away if he mounts you here in the dirt?
He can't decide which one he wants the answer to more. His stomach is praying for food, but his cock is already twitching with undeniable need.
He'll have to watch a little longer.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You can feel... something watching you as you continue on the path.
You try to look around your surroundings. It's just you and the quiet wilderness; no predators to be seen.
You tuck your cloak behind your knife so you can reach it easier and continue on your way.
It's starting to get colder even as the sun just begins its decent. You still have time to make it to your grandmothers home before dark.
You let your mind wander to her as you keep looking around your surroundings diligently. It's been only a few months since you've seen her, but it does feel like a lifetime. Maybe you'll try again to convince her to move away the home your grandfather build for her. It's not safe to be alone so far away from people.
She's just so stubborn. She doesn't want to leave the last thing left of her late husband. Perhaps —
You stop and look around, smiling to yourself as you see some winter flowers a little off the path. Grandmother would appreciate some.
Yunho watches curiously from the other side of the path, inching ever closer to keep his eyes trained on you as you kneel by a patch of purple flowers; drawing your knife to cut the stems.
Your hood keeps slipping further down your face, and you let out a quiet sigh of annoyance before you pull it down.
He was about to take advantage of your distracted and vulnerable position to ambush you when you move the fabric back from your face. He stills immediately, backing back into the woods.
Smart and pretty. And... soft. Soft, that must be the word he's looking for to describe how you look as you gently handle the flowers.
Smart, pretty, soft.
Just what he likes.
Mate! Mate! Mate! His wolf makes up his mind for him, and he springs into action just as you stand.
He runs as fast and as quietly as he can, and he's clearly efficient because he gets well ahead of you without you ever hearing him.
He slumps himself against the trunk of a tree and sprawls his legs out in front of him, ruffling his hair before he rests his head against the bark.
It takes you a few minutes to reach him. He has his eyes closed, but he can hear your steady footsteps falter as you catch a glimpse of him.
He bites his tongue to stop the smirk that wants to come out as you cautiously grow closer; your heartbeat in his ears like a drum over the silence of the forrest around you.
"Fellow?"
He pulls his eyes open quickly, like he's been awakened, stumbling to stand up. He doesn't miss the way you back up. Such a smart girl you must be. And you have such a sweet voice.
"Are-" You hesitate for a moment as he stands to his full height — much taller than yourself even as you stand a few long strides away. "Are you alright?"
"Oh," he stutters like he doesn't know what to say; looking around. "I fear that... that I might be lost."
"Lost?" You ask slowly, looking him up and down, "how have you gotten lost?" He looks suspiciously put together for someone lost in the woods.
"I was just going for a walk and I seem to have gotten turned around." Wrong. He knows exactly how many steps in what exact direction to take to get home. But first — he has to have you.
You hold the basket a little tighter, your instincts tell you that something is... off about this man.
"Could you tell me which way to the nearest village?" He steps forward slowly and nearly moans at how appetizing you smell up close.
"Uhm," he notes that you don't look away as you point behind you. Smart, smart, pretty human. Not stupid like the others who had the misfortune of turning their back to him. "About... four hours that a'way."
"Four...?" He sighs, digging his hands into his pockets like he's cold. He's anything but. He's burning up with the urge to knot you until you give him pups —
He pauses for real. Pups? He's never thought of that with any other person he's wanted to mount.
Maybe it's your awareness, your intelligence when it comes to survival. You'd be good at protecting pups. You keep your shoulders squared and him in your gaze at all times.
Maybe it's how cute you are. Like a deer caught in a hunters aim, blissfully unaware.
Maybe... how good you look in red? He could imagine you all bloody with the gore of his kills —
"-llo?" You tilt your head, eyeing him with mistrust clear in your eyes.
"F-forgive me, I've been a bit... fuzzy. I'm terribly hungry, I've been on the path for a few days." He eyes you just as intently, with hunger in his.
Your eyes flick for a single millisecond, looking back the way you came. If he hadn't eaten in days, he'll never make it to your village.
He's closer when you look back to him, making you jump. But he doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look like he's moved a muscle despite the obvious shrunken distance between you. You force yourself to brush it off.
"I'm on the way to my grandmothers house... It's a much shorter journey, if you would like to find your footing there? I'm sure she can make something filling for you to eat so you can find your way home."
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Eat the grandmother and fuck the girl. Fill your stomach and then fill hers.
"Would you be so kind?" He asks with soft eyes, making you misjudge him. Misleading you into doing so.
Despite your instincts telling you to do otherwise, you nod. "Certainly. It would be disgraceful of me to leave someone out in the cold."
Oh, he will disgrace you in more ways than you can imagine.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Yunho, as he told you, keeps a respectful distance as you lead the way to your grandmothers house.
Small talk is made, but it doesn't things less... tense.
You really do look like a deer in the way that your muscles tense whenever he gets a little too close. When your eyes widened a bit when his hand brushed against yours and took the basket, insisting he carry it for you — it's the least he can do.
It takes every ounce of his self control not to take you right on the path. He wants to be at his full energy so he can really breed you.
And that's what he's decided will be happening. He will eat your grandmother, take you, and drag you back to his home. You are his now, he's made up his mind.
The more time you spend together, the more he looks forward to having you be his mate. For more than just his rut. For ever.
You are smart. You don't reveal extremely personal information, even when he tries to subtly draw it from you. You keep your cloak out of the way of your daggers handle so you can quickly grab it. You never let him get behind you — never let yourself get in a vulnerable position. If he slows down, so do you.
You offer him some bread, you say you baked it yourself. You can provide. He likes meat much more than anything else, but he takes a bite. It's perfect. Soft and fluffy and just a touch of sweetness. He has to bite back a purr of approval.
He tries to get a glimpse at your body under the bundles of fabric over you, but the most he gets it to see how wide your hips are when you press your hands on them. Gods, he wants to grab them. You'll be perfect to drag over his cock, to birth his children.
His wolf is getting impatient. Howling in pain and annoyance.
Right now? Do it now. Now? Yunho, what are you doing? Fuck her now! Claim! Claim her!
If you notice his silence in the last twenty minutes of the walk, you must attribute it to his tiredness and hunger. You don't even think about the possibility of the man being a werewolf. The possibility that he's keeping his lips sealed so you don't notice his fangs.
He's never felt the urge to breed someone — let alone claim them as a lifelong mate. But you? Oh, you... He's going to. He needs to.
He almost collapses with relief when he sees the small cottage in the distance. It's adorable the way your pace picks up. Not knowing you're bringing along death and chaos with you.
"Nana?" You knock on the door a few times before opening it slowly. "Nana, it's (Y/n)! I've brought some medicine from the village."
"My (Y/n)?" Your grandmother shuffles in with a smile on her wrinkled face. "Oh, I would love to hug you, my little angel! But I do not want to give you the sickness-" Her eyes lock on the man who has to quite literally duck to fit into her front door. "Who is this?"
"Oh, grandmother! This is Yunho, he was on the path, he's been lost for quite some time."
He nods politely. Thanking her for inviting him in, she assumes — but really he's thanking her because he's about to eat her.
Her sickness or age doesn't give him any hesitation. He can't catch human viruses, and he finds that meat all tastes the same regardless of age; as long as it's fresh.
"Here," you turn and pull the basket from Yunho's grasp, giving him a small glare when he doesn't immediately hand it over — it makes him want you even more. "I've brought you some herbal medicine that the doctor says will-"
"Come sit down, you've had a long journey! You too," she points to Yunho, and he can see that your sternness and care must run in the family.
How unlucky for you. He likes the idea of your children having those same traits.
He sits across from you at the small table; your legs brushing against each other. He should just get it over with and rip her throat out, you'll probably appreciate if he makes it quick —
You untie the ribbon on the front of your cloak and reveal what you've been hiding.
He swallows quickly as more drool threatens to spill past his lips.
Your bodice is laced up tight and pressing your breasts together, the smallest sliver of cleavage peeking at him as you lean and pour him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.
He mumbles a quick, jumbled thank you before downing it all in one gulp. It does nothing to quell his thirst. He's craving other things.
"Here, honey," your grandmother sets a bowl in front of you, and then him. "And you keep your medicine, I'm not long for this world anyways."
"Nana!" You chastise her, the crease of your eyebrows pushing together with your pout making Yunho want to jump over the table and lick your face.
If only either of you knew how true her words were.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You awake in the night, cold air nipping at your legs as the blanket is removed from your small bed.
Heavy panting from above you hits your face in warm puffs. A drop of something just as warm splats onto your cheek.
The room is illuminated by a flickering lantern, casting the shadow of the man who's straddling your hips down on you like an eclipse.
"Yunho-" You whisper his name groggily, fear blooming quickly in your chest.
"I am a wolf." He admits, fangs in his grin to prove it. "And I ate your grandmother."
Your head snaps to her bed quickly — she is nowhere to be found. "Whe-"
"I picked her up from her bed and I took her outside, I ripped her throat out before she even woke up. Don't worry, she didn't feel a thing." He says it so casually that it's hard to even fathom.
You yelp as he leans down and presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. "Mmm~"
Everything you've ever been told about werewolves runs through your mind, twice over because you don't fully digest it all the first time.
They're human — somewhat.
But they have claws and fangs that hide until they're ready to sink them into their prey. They have heightened senses: eye sight, hearing, taste. Much more complex than any human can even comprehend. They're faster, stronger, they heal quicker.
These better-than humans were masquerading with your species for centuries before they went their separate ways.
Because the wolves realized that human meat is just as good as animal.
"Don't- don't eat me." You force out a plea, and it makes his cock harder.
After his stomach was full and he washed away the blood from his hands and his neck and his teeth — because he knew you'd probably die of fright, and he can't have that — he was crawling over you with one thing on his mind. Breeding you; until you have no choice but to accept him as your mate lest you want a bastard werewolf pup and nobody to care for it.
You'd surely be an outcast in your village once your baby came out with fangs.
After he takes you home, he'll show you just how good of a mate he can be for you. You don't need to go back to your old life — he won't let you.
"I'll do no such thing." He makes his intentions known when he presses his hips down onto you; making your eyes widen. He pulls away from your neck and looks down at you, a wild smile on his lips. "You are like a little baby deer who's been spotted by a hunter."
He grabs your wrist the moment you move for your dagger that you had set on the table beside you.
"It makes me want to fuck you so badly."
You scream as he pulls you up by his grasp on your wrist, fighting against him with all your might and getting absolutely nowhere.
He's glad he ate before he decided to take you, because you put up a hell of a fight for such a small thing compared to him. If he were still weak, you might have slipped away — might have.
"Please! Please, don't do it!" You yell as you dig your socked heels into the hardwood, cursing the cold weather for making you cover up so well because now you can't gain any traction as he pulls you to the open living space and throws you to the floor.
He practically pounces when you go to scramble away, pinning you to your stomach — leaving you completely vulnerable in the position you've avoided all day long; your back to him.
"You smell so sweet..." He hums with another sniff to your neck, "so... fertile. You'll make such a nice mate." His claws slice through the back of your plain shift, making you freeze below him as the sharp nails threaten your skin. "You are so smart and pretty, just perfect to be the mother of my pups." His drool slips past his lips and drops on your naked shoulder, making you jolt in surprise.
You can't even begin to think of what to do, how to make it out of this unscathed. You shake your head quickly as tears start bubbling up in your eyes.
"Yunho-"
He moans loudly as you voice his name, grinding his bulge against your backside and making the tears slip down your face as you feel just how large the man — the wolf is. Not just in his arousal, but all of him. You couldn't fight him off if you put all of your strength and he only put half of his. He basically blankets your body with his own as he rubs against you.
"Please, I- I'm a virgin." You say it too hesitantly, like it's a question. You aren't a virgin — but maybe if you were, he might have some mercy.
He hears the skip of your heart as you lie. "No, you aren't." He presses his hips harder into you, "I can hear when you're lying, little deer... Why don't you tell me the truth?"
You swallow. Your throat is bone-dry. "I'm not- I'm not a virgin but please! Please, have mercy! I don't want to-"
"I will be honest, because I find myself growing fond of you," he plays with the ends of your hair, letting out a soft sigh, "I do not care what you want. Not tonight. Tonight I will breed you even if I have to pin you to the floor to do so. I don't want to hurt such a pretty thing, so please do try to cooperate."
You sob as he turns you over, refusing to look in his eyes — refusing to look in his direction. "You truly are so beautiful... I wonder if our pups will take after you."
You don't miss the way he says 'pups' this time. As in, more than one. As in, he's going to keep you around until you have as many of his babies as he wants. It makes you cry harder, wrapping your arms around yourself quickly when he goes to pull off the ruined fabric of your shift.
"No!"
"Oh," he laughs, "but, yes." He enjoys your fight, but he's growing ever more impatient. He easily shoves your arms away from your chest and pull the ripped dress away from you; leaving you bare and shivering.
A loud, pleased growl rumbles in his throat as he looks you up and down. "Yes, indeed..." He hums, reaching down and unbuckling his belt hastily, "you are perfect."
You can only shake your head, terrified out of your own body as you watch his belt be tossed across the room, as you hear him shuffling with his pants.
The soft whimper of terror you let out as his lips press against your neck nearly has him cumming.
It's been so long since he was with someone else; especially during a rut.
And you truly are perfect for him. Everything he likes — rolled up into one cute, little, human package.
"If you try to run away," he says lowly against your throat, a threat, "I will fuck you dry. This is a gift I am about to give you, so allow it, okay? A small mercy for my little deer before I split you open."
You don't know what he means until he slides down on the floor on his knees and his face meets your exposed cunt.
It does not feel like mercy when he nudges his nose against your slit and takes a deep breath through it — not mercy at all. Humiliation. Even more so when he opens up his mouth; wrapping his lips around you and dragging his tongue everywhere that is meant to be cherished.
He does not cherish. He devours.
And he doesn't mind your loud crying. If anything — it turns him on more. You sound so sweet and vulnerable. It makes him want to do more. It makes him both want to ruin you and protect you all at the same time.
He's already made up his mind that you belong to him. But every small whine and sniffle drives the grip you have on him in deeper. When you wrap your arms around yourself again — both to hide your chest and to comfort yourself — he smiles into your cunt.
It doesn't matter to your body that you don't want this. His forced and unwanted licks are making your gut turn with something so disgustingly needy. He knows where to lap to make you at least semi-ready for his girth — he thinks 'semi' because he knows he doesn't have the lenience to stretch you out with anything more than his tongue.
His wolf is already howling for him to hurry; to fuck you fast and hard until you cling to him for any sense of stability while he rearranges your guts.
He closes his eyes, willing himself to ignore the noisy voice in the back of his head as he enjoys the taste of you; dipping his tongue inside of you and making you choke on your tears. "S-stop!" You writhe, getting your hips caught in his clawed hands quickly as he hums disagreeingly.
He could eat you out for hours. He doesn't have the time for that, though. Not when he's rutting and desperate to claim you. So he stays for just a few minutes while you kick your legs feebly, crying for him to stop.
"Plea- Get it over with!" You slide your hands to your face, uncaring as your breasts expose themselves to him.
He gives one final, overly aggressive slurp before sitting up. "You really should be saying thank you," he groans while moving his sharp grip to your thighs, spreading them wide. Using all of his excessive drool, he spits right onto your cunt and earns himself a particularly loud whimper of embarrassment from you. "Now you're all wet, it won't hurt... as much."
He knows he's big, all werewolves are. They aren't meant to breed with humans so eagerly — but he can't help himself.
"I ca-" He stops himself as he looks up to you, "move." He gathers your wrists in one of his hands when you make no move to reveal yourself. Pinning them above your head while he moves up to position his hips to yours, "I can't promise I'll be gentle, but I will try to go slow at first. I cant hurt my little deer too badly~"
When you feel him lining himself up with his other hand, you sob somehow even harder. "Yunho! Yunho, wait! Please, y-"
"Shhh, just try to relax, pretty girl," he hums half-heartedly, looking down as he rubs his cock head against you. "Spread your legs further, it will hurt less."
He doesn't know why he bothers to try and make you even a little comfortable. If he were doing this to anyone else — when he did do this to anyone else — he never cared. He'd already be buried inside of you if you weren't so... you.
They were just a means to an end.
You are his mate.
You do the opposite instinctively when he breeches you, only to find it a million times more painful and immediately spread your legs. "You're hurting me!" You scream as though it isn't obvious by your tears and your squirming.
"I know, sweet thing," he says before he licks his lips, his grip tightening on your wrists, "you will grow used to it."
Whether he means the pain or his painful girth, you don't know. You wish he'd keep his mouth shut as he leans over you, whispering through a moan, "you will learn to love it. To love me."
"No-"
His mouth is too hot. Too soul-consuming as he presses it to yours. As he moves against your lips frenziedly. His tongue invading your mouth makes you gag with disgust, makes you twist and turn under him until you realize how badly that hurts.
He's still shoving deeper as he pulls back from the messy affair, gripping your waist tightly. He slides the hand on your wrist up a bit and lets you grab at it; lets you dig your nails in.
It's really taking everything in him not to hurry along and have his entire length inside of you. You're so tight and nearly searing hot around him.
He goes to speak, but it comes out as a low growl; his fangs catching the low light. "Fuck," he breathes, grabbing onto your waist with both of his hands now. His impatience has won. "Scream, cry, throw a fit, I don't care what you do — you're going to take it."
You do scream. You do cry. When he slams his hips the rest of the way to meet yours; your body reacts before you do — slapping him across the face as the stinging pain makes you blank out for a few moments.
And his reaction is the opposite of what you expect after you both realize what you did.
He starts pounding into you, dragging you into his wild hips by his grip on your sides; his claws pricking your skin.
He knew you had some fight in you. It's cute almost, like the rest of you. How you thought a measly slap would deter him from breeding you.
Your arms fall heavy next to you defeatedly, your sobbing making it hard to breathe properly as he fucks the air straight out of you with each mean strike of his hips against yours. Your screams turn into pained gasps and whines, a pout permanently affixed to your lips when they aren't parted to allow you to intake some air.
A pout so precious that it makes Yunho's heart flutter even as he pounds the life out of your poor cunt. His chest rumbles with a pleased growl as he lolls out his tongue and begins lapping at your face even as you try to turn it away.
"Mine." You swear you hear him moan between his messy licks. His hands paw their way up your chest, groping your breasts for a moment before he suddenly leans over you completely and places his hands atop your head; essentially hugging your face to his chest.
"Mine. My mate. All. Fucking. Mine."
You wail into his chest as he gives a punctuating slam with each word before something warm and creamy spreads inside of you. When your frazzled brain pieces together that it's his cum — you almost feel relieved. He's done.
His weight nearly crushes you as he slumps on top of you, grinding his hips into yours slowly. He touches something so deep and personal that it finally makes your hands move again, grabbing onto his back with a yelp from the sharp sensation.
"P-pull out," you plead, "please, you need to- to pull out." Because your body is beginning to betray you again.
"No," he laughs breathily, "not happening, sorry, precious. I have waited far too long for the perfect mate. I will breed you until sunrise."
You don't know if that's even physically possible, how one being could have so much stamina; it doesn't seem like it.
But he starts his in-and-out again, slower this time. You hate this pace even more than the rough and fast one — because this one feels all too intimate as he slowly drags along your abused walls; almost as a soft massage after his brutalizing ways.
"S-stop!" You beg with more urgency as a heat trickles up your spine. "You have- you need to stop!"
He not only hears your heartbeat now, he can feel it pulse around his cock. "Mmm-mm," he moans to say 'no' as he props himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. He can see the spark of panic in your eyes, not because you're still afraid — although you undoubtedly are — but because, "you starting to feel good, little deer?"
"Never," you shake your head quickly, attempting to shove his face away when he starts licking your face again. He slams your hand back down to the floor and laces his fingers with yours, a large smirk on his lips.
"Why deny it, precious? If your body wants to feel good, let it feel good. It's only natural between mates~"
"I am not your mate," you cry quietly as he continues his torturously gentle rhythm.
"You are," he hums after licking a fat stripe along your cheek; savoring the saltiness of your tears. "You are," he says more firmly, squeezing your hand, "look at where you are. Below me, dripping with my seed, taking my cock and enjoying it too~ You are my mate, and I will not tolerate you saying otherwise."
He sits up, digging his length deeper in the process and making you whine. He holds your hand still, resting them over your hip, as his free hand slips further down. Another loud rumble of satisfaction comes from the back of his throat when you squeeze his hand tightly, begging him not to do what you think he's going to —
But he does it anyway; he plays with your clit. You screw your eyes shut quickly, trying to take yourself anywhere but here. You can't. His hips rolling into you is too... pleasant. His touch is too sweet.
One last time, you try, "please, don't make me... Be rough instead, I beg."
"Why would I do such a thing when you look so gorgeous right now?" He chuckles, "don't worry, you will get your fair share of rough before the night is over, sweet deer. But I can tell you like it like this," he emphasizes with a slightly more pressurized swirl over your clit. "And I want my mate to have some pleasure, I am not a monster."
He is. He is a monster. That's what you tell yourself over and over again to try and make your body quit acting like this is even remotely okay.
"Do not humiliate me like this." And it is humiliating, even though there is no one around for hours in any direction. You feel ashamed of your own body, getting pleasure from a werewolf who's eaten someone you loved and taken advantage of your kindness.
"Why should you be humiliated?" He spits down on his length before pushing it back inside of you leisurely. He doesn't need to. His cum is more than enough lube, and you're growing wetter by the second despite your internal conflicts. But he wants to, and so he does. He has zero interest in holding back his desires — unlike your pesky human brain holding onto all of the societal pressure, all of the shame. He can fuck that out of you, though, he knows it.
He usually hates slow. Even when he jerks himself off; it's hard and fast.
But you look so perfect as he stretches you out over and over again with an unhuried and tender pace. He can see every twitch in your face, feel every small clench that you immediately force yourself to relax, hear every shallow and shaky breath you take. Your bottom lip starts trembling in its permanent pout.
"It's meant to feel good," he says, practically purring as he watches your fight dissolve second by second while he pushes you closer to something you don't want. But you're going to take it anyway; he's going to make you.
"I'm the only person you'll ever be with again, so why feel embarrassed? If I'm not the one who's going to make you cum, it won't be happening at all. So, if I were you," he spits onto your clit and rubs it in, "I'd learn to enjoy it sooner, rather than later."
"I h-hate you," you curse as your back arches against your own will, your hips trying to lean into his touch.
"Not for long, little deer," he smiles as he tilts his hips, pressing against something that makes your face hot the second he grazes it, "not for long~"
You let go of his hand, with a bit of struggle because he doesn't want to let you, and slam both your hands over your mouth — because you can no longer hold back your sounds. And you do not want to give him the satisfaction.
It doesn't matter how hard you try to hide your noises; his sensitive ears catch onto them. And they're so much sweeter than your screams. They send a shiver down his spine and a jolt of arousal to his cock. He finds out quite quickly that he enjoys making you feel good — even if you don't want him to.
"I want you to cum," he pants out softly, reversing the direction of the small circles he makes on your clit and making you groan behind your hands. "Cum, and I will stop."
He will not stop. But he will give you a break. Because he knows you will please him greatly as you climax on his girth.
"You will?" You ask hopefully. It almost breaks his heart to lie to you. But you'll come around. You'll have no choice but to.
"Yes, sweet thing," he nods, spitting again onto your cunt to make use of all of his drool.
You don't trust him, not one bit. However, you're at your breaking point. Both physically and mentally.
You let yourself cum. It's so intense that you don't even feel his teeth sinking into your shoulder. Your entire body trembles and — needing something to ground you — you hug him tightly.
And it feels like heaven to him. Filling you up with another round of hot cum as you shake beneath him, as you clench and flutter around his cock, as you hold him. And all while he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and claims you as his.
You only feel it when you come down from your high, a dull ache in your shoulder in your otherwise buzzing body. He licks at it softly, practically radiating joy as he soothes over it with his tongue.
"Mh," he moans softly as he sniffs the air; your scent now mingling deeper with his, "much better~"
He leans up and peers down at you with a toothy grin that makes you shiver. "No more tears, sweet girl," he hums while swiping them off your cheeks with his thumbs, his claws thankfully retracted. "You are all mine, just as it should be."
"W-" You heave, lungs begging for air as your body starts burning up all over again — fiercer than before, "what did you do?"
"I claimed you." He says simply, giving a single, harsh thrust that makes you moan — loudly. His smile turns darker, more lustful. "Now we can really have pups together, and your body knows it~"
He can see the confusion brewing up in your tearful eyes, and he explains as he trails his hands down your neck to your chest, "now that you bear my mark, we have a better chance of breeding together. Especially since you're a human — it's a connection beyond the physical. Do you feel it?"
Unfortunately — yes.
Your body is begging for him with such intensity that your mind can't help but follow, can't help but search for relief. But you won't admit that. Not yet, at least. You're still deathly ashamed.
You grip the fabric on his sleeves, finally looking at him. You only get to do so for a split second; because when your eyes meet his, he starts thrusting into you mercilessly — your eyes rolling back as he repeatedly glides along your g-spot. "Please!"
And it doesn't sound like your regular pleadings for him to stop. No, not like those at all.
"Yunho, I need you!"
There it is.
He'd have bitten you sooner if he knew this is how you'd react. Bucking your hips into his and clinging to his sleeves and crying his name so saccharine-like.
"Don't you worry, precious," he growls as he buries his face in your neck, kissing and licking wildly. "I will take care of you~"
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
How long have you been in this position? How long has Yunho been fucking you into the cold floor?
You can hardly feel your legs, your shoulders are aching from laying on the hardwood, your hips are practically numb from being pounded against it.
Your neck and shoulders are covered with love-bites and bruises. There's a puddle of cum beneath you.
Your body is still burning hot, and you can't think of a single reason to explain how or why. You've came four times by now — five? You don't think you were ever keeping track to begin with.
And Yunho is showing no signs of slowing down.
His hands slip a bit as he readjusts his grip on your sweaty waist, a low moan leaving his lips as he pulls you into him. "Fuck-" He groans from his place nuzzling your abused neck, "want to stay inside you forever~"
You whine softly, voice raw from all of the moaning and screaming of before. Not because his words — his words don't bother you anymore; in fact, you don't see the problem with anything he says. You whine because you keep slipping further away on the floor; slick with your sweat.
"Yunho-" Your soft call of his name gets the response it always does — a low, content growl and a few particularly rough slams of his hips which make you see stars. "T-" The words die quickly on your tongue, unable to think of anything other than how fucking fantastic his cock feels inside of your overly wet cunt.
"What, pretty girl?" He asks gently, like he isn't still using your hole like a personal toy.
"Need- to move," you pout up at him as he comes up from your neck, "please?"
For once, he listens to your begging. He slows his hips to a stop, grinding against you. "Why?" He doesn't want to pull out for even a second, so he hopes you don't actually have a good reason.
"M'hurting," you sigh as you fidget below him, "and sliding away."
He can't help but chuckle a little bit. You do have a point; you've been against the hard ground for about two hours now and he's had to keep his grip tighter and tighter as time went on.
His wolf is begging not to pull out; to just knot you here and now. But he knows he still has more pent up energy, more cum to fuck into you before he finally knots you.
And the flustered and embarrassed way you ask for a different position makes his heart skip a beat.
"Hm," he leans and pecks your lips as he slowly pulls out, "okay, sweet thing."
You clench around him at the nickname, and he just about slams back into you before he stops himself. "Fuck, you can't do that to me," he chuckles breathlessly as he finally slides out.
"Sorry," you stutter, breathing much heavier than him although he was the one making all of the brutal movements.
A small wave of cum floods out of you, his cock twitching as he watches. "Gods, look at you~ Such a perfect little mate..."
You whine as he helps to sit you up, your body aching with protest. "Be gentle..." You whisper, fully expecting the opposite to come.
"My delicate little deer," he smiles — one so soft and tender that you can't help but lock onto it. "Can you even stand?"
You brace yourself on your hands and try to push yourself up, falling right back down with a quiet cry.
"Aw, yeah, I didn't think so," he laughs a bit, wrapping his arms around you, "come on, pretty girl, I will help you." He's gentle. Holding you like a porcelain doll.
You latch your arms around his neck, whimpering as he lifts you to your feet. He could easily carry you, take all of your weight off your weakened legs, but he doesn't. Not yet.
He looks down at you, smile still on his lips. "Let me see," he hums, tilting your head to the side to get a good look at the mark on your shoulder; still supporting you with one arm around you.
He had opened his jaw so wide that only half of the wound is visible from the front. The other half on the back. He could have bitten an entire chunk of your shoulder out. But he didn't.
The angry bite mark is just a nibble — a token of his affection.
"And to think I was going to eat you," he giggles, tracing just around the edges. "How stupid that would have been of me~"
What response you might have had is stolen away as he leans down and kisses you; all tongue and lust. He cups your neck softly, angling you to better slot his mouth with yours.
You don't gag this time, but you don't move to kiss him back. Not at first. You grab onto his sweater tightly as you wobble, a soft moan breaking in your throat as he traces your tongue with his.
Your tongue twitches with a mind of its own, extending a bit to give him better access. It's his turn to moan now.
He pulls back, guiding your mouth back open when you go to close it. "Open," and when you do, he spits onto your tongue; making you jolt. He pushes your jaw closed gently while you're dazed, and you swallow without thinking.
"What a good fucking girl," he grins like a madman, yanking you up off your feet before you know what's happening — placing you in your small bed. "My good girl." He licks up your stomach as he straddles you, climbing up slowly. "Mh... You're so adorable when you shiver."
You hadn't even noticed you were shivering until he said something. Your sweat growing cold as your heartbeat slowly evens out and making the winter air that seeps in even colder.
"But I can't have you freezing to death, now can I?" He pulls his large sweater off, leaving him naked from the waist up and his cock pulled out of his pants — which are ruined with cum and arousal.
He shushes you softly when you whine, your body aching as he lifts your torso to help you pull it on. It drowns you, as does his scent that wafts off of it. Like the Earth sprinkled in cinnamon. It's oddly... comforting.
"Fucking hell," he chuckles in disbelief, "how do you keep getting even cuter?" He kisses you again before you can think of an answer, even though it was probably rhetorical. It's just a small peck this time, as he slides your legs to dangle off either side of the bed. "You are only ever allowed to wear my clothes. Mine or you go naked, I'm okay with either."
"Are-" You stop yourself. You don't know if you want the answer to the question on your mind.
"Hm?" He hums as he lines himself up again, scrambling your brains as he slides into you quickly.
"A-are you really going to- to keep me?" The words taste a bit sour on your tongue, but the sweetness of his soft thrusts overpowers it. You can't think of a better way to word it.
"Of course, I am," he says without hesitation. "You are my mate." He slides his hands up your thighs tenderly, rubbing your sore hips as he stills deep inside of you. "Do you doubt me, little deer?"
"Why me?" You swallow thickly, hands hesitating before resting over his.
"I like you." He offers simply, before he realizes you probably want more of an answer than that. "You are pretty, and more than that, you are smart. I like that. You can take good care of our pups. And... you look nice in red. It's my favorite color."
You stare up at him, dumb-founded. "Wh-"
"Don't worry your pretty head about it, sweet thing," he kisses your head before he begins moving inside of you again; shutting you up and knocking the thoughts from your brain.
He can't really explain it. It's definitely more than what he said — but how could he put into words that he feels drawn to you like a moth to a flame or a predator to a defenseless prey? That he would very well hunt you to the ends of the Earth if you try to leave? That he wants to kill anyone who's ever touched you? That he wants to provide for you and have you provide for his pups?
He would just sound insane.
Humans don't understand that werewolves instincts go further than they can comprehend. Sometimes they just know.
And he knows.
"Yunho!" Your scream pulls him from his thoughts, realizing that he's digging his nails into your hips so hard that he's drawing blood as if he were using his claws.
"Sorry," he breathes, leaning and kissing you shakily, the smell of your blood making him drool right into your mouth. He rests his forehead against yours, never slowing in his pace, "I'm sorry, precious. I just want to knot you so bad..."
The flash of confusion in your eyes makes him excited. "Fuck, fuck!" He grits his teeth as his fangs expose themselves, letting go of you so he doesn't do more damage as his claws do the same. They slice into the pillow under your head as he grips it tightly. "You sweet, sweet girl," he growls as he hooks a leg over yours, pounding deeper, "you have no idea~"
You don't. And you can't think of what he might mean because you're too busy cumming on his length when he prods all new spots inside of you.
You wrap your arms around him tightly as he lays over you, trembling as he fucks you through and past your peak. You've learned quickly that he won't stop just because you've came. He doesn't give you a moment of rest.
You cry into his chest. Not because of pain or fear this time. Because your cunt is about to reach its limit and you still aren't satisfied.
Something deeper than sex is going on, and you don't have even the slightest amount of brain power to try and figure it out.
He didn't tell you that you won't be satisfied until he is as well. He didn't tell you that him claiming you meant a little piece of his soul is yours now.
A wolf sinking their teeth into something without killing it is a most intimate affair. That's why he's never done it. He always bites to kill. He never wanted anyone to survive a bite from him.
Anyone but you.
He's never wanted to breed anyone but you either. "It will frighten you at f-first," he stutters as he feels his knot swelling up slowly, "but you will take it, yes?"
Although you don't know what you're agreeing to — if you even really have a say is more than debatable — you nod into his chest quickly, clinging to him.
"Good." He balls up his hands, hiding his claws in his fists before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you just as tightly.
You yelp in shock as he bottoms out, a slightly larger round thickness at his base stretching you out. Before you can move, before you can think — it grows. Slow and steadily.
Your jaw drops. Both in disbelief and relief; because you're thrown over the edge of your pleasure and you finally feel satisfied.
Because he's satisfied. Stretching you to your limit and then some. Making sure none of his cum can possibly seep out before he lets go with a shiver and a loud moan and fills you up.
You can't do anything other than hug him, clutching his back like a lifeline.
He lets out a small growl before all but collapsing on top of you, panting heavily and squeezing you to his chest when you fidget. "Stay. Still." He warns, "unless you want another round after my knot goes down."
Considering that this round has lasted, at the very minimum, three hours; you stay still. You can feel your heartbeat in your stretched and sore cunt, and you bet he can too.
He can. And it gives him a sense of calm as it slows down to a steady thump. You're relaxing. With something so inhuman and strange buried inside of you that's attached to someone who's done unspeakable things to you — you're relaxing in his arms.
You try to convince yourself it's because of the physical exhaustion. But then he places a kiss to your head.
And you know it's not.
Because something in the back of your mind says; 'mate'.
synopsis ; when yeosang goes into his rut your ready to take the precautions you always do, except this time yeosang begs you not to and who are you to deny your kitty when he begs so prettily?
pairing(s) ; bf!yeosang x f!reader
☆ ── wc. ; 2.2k
☆ ── genre ; pure filth w/ a smidge of plot, snow leopard hybrid!yeosang
☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, yeosang goes into a rut, begging, biting/marking, mentions of mate marks, yeo is just a desperate needy and whiny baby, unprotected sex, dom-ish!yeosang x sub!reader, rough and messy sex, petnames (baby, love, angel, angel cakes, sweetheart...), slight blood, yeo has a barbed cock (whoops...), manhandling, dumbification, BREEDING TO THE MAX!, creampies, forced orgasms, slight cockwarming, slight pain kink (if you squint), licking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a tinge of scenting (if you reallyyyy squint), mentions of pregnancy, a bit of breast play, knotting, did I mention breeding...? (don't say I didn't warn ya...), lmk if I missed anything!!
☆ ── notes ; this is a payback fic for bestie because she decided to torture me during my ovulation week so I am now returning the favor during her's hehe :33
⏤͟͟͞͞ JOIN THE TAGLIST ── MASTERLIST NAVI ── MAIN NAVI
You knew the moment that Yeosang started getting more handsy and practically begged for your attention that his rut was coming up. His purrs came out whiny as he would nudge you with his head or hands, trying but failing to be discreet. It wasn't anything that you couldn't handle, but it was always so fun to see his once calm and collected demeanor shift into this needy one.
"Baby," Yeosang purrs as he paws at your stomach. The feeling of his extended claws scraping softly across your plush skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising.
"What's wrong, love?" You murmur, cracking an eye open as you slowly awoke from the nap that both of you had decided to take after a trip to the store to grab something for the upcoming week. Because you knew that once Yeosang's rut began, there would be no leaving the house.
"It's so hot, I need you, please." He whined, snuggling his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent before letting out a quiet chirp. His fuzzy white ears twitched on his head, and the fur tickled your jaw, causing you to giggle softly. The sound had the blonde-haired hybrid pulling his face from your neck, eyes studying your features.
Your sleepy eyes opened, meeting his heated gaze, and you felt your heart flip in your chest. Swallowing thickly, you realized that his rut had started a day early, and you thanked the heavens above that you went ahead and got your shopping done. Bringing a hand up, you cupped his heated cheek, watching as his eyes fluttered, purrs reverberating through his throat. Then you were pulling away, shuffling off the bed, and the large cat just looked at you in confusion.
"I've gotta go take my pill, sweetheart." You told him, standing to your feet, however, before you could even take a step towards the bathroom, a strong hand wrapped around your arm. A sharp gasp fell from your lips when Yeosang pulled you back onto the bed, caging your body under his.
"No, no pill." He pleaded, his face going straight for your neck and his nose nudging right where your mate mark was scarred over. The sensitivity of the area has you squirming slightly, but Yeosang's hands found your hips, pinning you in place. "I wanna see you carrying my litter angel, please, please let me fill your pretty pussy with my seed. God, let me breed you, please."
Your heart seized as he brought his face to hover over yours; the sight of tears in his eyes had your breath catching in your throat. He had never, never been like this before, always too worried about the precautions before anything, but to hear him beg, damn near to tears, was doing unimaginable things to you.
Swallowing thickly, you move one hand to his hand, fingers toying with the hairs on the nape of his neck. Then you were pulling him down until his lips were ghosting over yours, the scent of the strawberries he had earlier still lingering on his breath. Sending your resolve cracking, Yeosang leaned down even more, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, canines scraping against your skin and causing you to whine softly, the sound going straight to the blonde's already aching cock.
"Please angel cakes, pretty please. You'd look so beautiful carrying our babies." He murmurs against your skin, fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips. His words nearly took the air from your lungs, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, and the small splash of his tears on your cheek was your breaking point.
"Fuck, okay, baby, I won't take the pill." You breathed out, and you could feel Yeosang's tail whip excitedly behind him, the soft fur brushing against your bent knee and sending a flurry of goosebumps across your skin.
"Thank you, thank you, baby." He gasped out, fingers grabbing for the edge of your shirt, nearly tearing the fabric. You barely had a chance to sit up before he was peeling it away from your body, leaving you topless, seeing as you took your bra off as soon as you got back from the store. The cool air of the room had your nipples perking up, a shiver running down your spine.
Yeosang bit back a growl before he dove into your chest, lips latching around your nipples, his canines catching your sensitive skin. The sweet sound of your whimper went straight to his cock that was straining against his sweats.
"Shit." He growled against your skin as your hips bucked up against his, a small whine catching in your throat as you felt his heavy cock through his sweats. The feeling had your aching cunt clenching around nothing. A soft moan fell from your mouth as you pulled him back up to your swollen lips, sealing them with his in a hungry kiss.
"Yeo…" You breathed into his mouth as he tugged your sleep shorts down your thighs, along with your underwear. The scent of your arousal instantly hits his nose, and his mind nearly blanked out as his animalistic instincts hit.
"I need to be in you, baby, fuck…" Yeosang whined, pulling away and tearing his clothes from his body, and your cunt quivered at the sight of his throbbing cock, standing proudly against his lower stomach. A wave of heat rushed through your body as he crawled over you, hands gripping at your thighs, nails nipping at your skin.
His moves were rushed and needy as he bent your leg, using his other hand to line his cock with your entrance, far too lost in the heat to wait any longer. A choked moan fell from your lips as he pushed into your needy cunt, his eyes watching as you swallowed his dick whole, a whimper escaping his lungs.
"Fuck you feel so good, angel, so fucking good." He whined, fingers digging into your skin and nearly breaking skin. You cried out as his heavy cock sat idle in your walls, body starting to squirm at the feeling. Tears brimmed in Yeosang's eyes as he pulled back out, a choked moan tore through your lips when he thrust back in with unimaginable force, causing your boobs to bounce.
"Y-Yeosang!" You cried out, hands flying to his wrist that was holding on to your hip with a vice-like grip. The sight of the man above you was something you've hardly ever seen. Tears pooled along his waterline, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tried to hold back all of the whimpers that threatened to escape.
"'M gonna make you a mommy, angel. Gonna make sure you're so full your body will have no other choice but to get pregnant." He babbled as his hips snapped into yours, the smooth head of his cock brushing over your sweet spot as he folded your body even more. The pleasure that coursed through your veins had you seeing stars, unabashed moans falling from your lips.
Then you felt something rubbing against your walls, the feeling causing your back to arch. You knew what it was and that it only happened when he went into his rut. The small barbs rubbed against your walls in a way that left you gasping for air, your body starting to feel as if it were lit aflame. The mixture of pain and pleasure was sending your mind into orbit, and you reached for the blonde above you, jaw going slack.
"Oh fuck! Nghh, Yeosang!" You cried out when he moved his hand from your hip to the back of your other knee, folding your body completely in half, allowing him to plunge deeper into your sopping heat.
"Please, baby, don't make me stop. You feel so good, I never wanna stop." He was damn near sobbing as he continued to fuck into you, his nails digging into your thighs and drawing blood. All of your words died on your tongue the moment you felt his tip kiss your cervix. The pain and the pleasure that shot through your body was enough to push you over the edge, choked moan falling from your lips as your nails dug into the bedsheets.
"Yeo, baby— ngghhhh! Oh god," Your eyes rolled back as he continued to fuck you through your high and right into a state of overstimulation, but he didn't stop or much less slow down. The blonde was far too blinded by the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around his cock and was drowning in the pleasure.
"God, I wanna breed you.. wanna put a baby in you. Gotta fuck my cum deep inside so you get pregnant, ahhh." Yeosang was cut off by a loud whimper, tears dripping from his long lashes, and his ears twitched relentlessly on top of his head. He was then leaning down, bending your body even more to slot his lips over yours in a needy, messy kiss. You both swallowed each other's sweet sounds, bodies reacting to each other like they have many, many times before.
“Y-Yeosang!” You nearly screamed when his lips latched onto your neck, teeth nipping at your skin.
Tears were streaming down the sides of your face as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, fingers curled around the back of his neck. A broken mixture of curses and his name rolled off your tongue, eyes rolling back as you become overtaken with pleasure.
Yeosang whined into your skin, praising you and your body for taking him so well and letting him fuck his litter into you. Your brain could barely comprehend his words as he worked you towards another orgasm, white spots beginning to cloud your vision.
The blonde's fingers tightened around your thigh, blood starting to seep out of the wounds his claws had created, tongue lapping at your mate mark, and whining against your skin when you clamp down around him, "gonna take it all for me? Please, please, keep me all inside, I wanna make you a mommy so badly, angel… Please, please, ah—”
He was cut off by a broken cry when your shaky hand trails up his spine before threading your fingers through his soft locks and finally taking one of his fuzzy white ears into your palm. Your fingers brushed over the soft fur, and the sensation was enough to send the large cat over the edge. He slams once, twice, three times into your cunt and then floods it with his cum. Hot, sticky ropes gushing against your gummy walls and deep into your womb as he continues to rut his hips against yours, breathy whines and whimpers falling from his lips.
Your head fell back against the soft mattress, eyes fluttering shut as his lips continued to wander the skin of your neck and shoulder. You believed that he had finally gotten it out of his system, at least for now, as he slowly pulls his cock from your fluttering walls, the barbs drag across your sensitive walls, making you gasp out.
Once he was fully out, you could feel your body start to relax, your heart finally starting to slow, but that tranquility was swept away when Yeosang grabbed your hips, lying you flat on your stomach. You tried to look back at him, but he was already mounting you, hands on either side of your head as he pushed his rock-hard cock back into your leaking pussy.
"Yeo…" You whined out, hand moving to grab his wrist that was planted next to you, nails digging into his skin as he began rolling his hips against yours. Then he was plowing into your abused cunt, without an ounce of mercy, as he whimpers and pleads for you to let him breed you, continued to fall from his lips.
"Please, please, plea— fuck! Angel, you're gonna look so pretty swollen with our kits." He whined into your neck, and he bent down, nose nuzzling into the skin, a deep purr reverberating from his chest when he caught his one scent on your skin.
A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. It wasn't long before you felt another orgasm creeping up on you, the previous ones aiding in the sensitivity.
“Y-Yeo!" You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.
Then you felt his teeth sink into the skin on your shoulder, causing you to cry out as your body was forced over the edge unexpectedly. Tears began to spill from your eyes due to the oversensitivity, and incoherent babbles fell from your lips as Yeosang continued to bully his barbed cock into your spazzing walls. He whispered and whined a mixture of praises and pleas against your skin, but they only fell on deaf ears as your mind began to float away from you. Giving the large leopard all the leeway he needed to fuck his seed into your womb before eventually knotting you for the night, snuggling into your neck as purrs reverberated through his body into yours, putting both of you to sleep.
Only for the process to repeat for the next week, and it'd be a miracle if you didn't come out on the other side pregnant.
Synopsis ꨄ : San notices how hard you’ve been working lately and wants to give you a reward for it !
Warnings ！: smut, fluff, oral (f!recieving), praise, petnames (angel, baby, good girl, etc.) , service top!San (woofwoof), misuse of icing, unprotected sex (wrap it up 🙂↔️), fingering
You come home from your office job with a heavy sigh and a weight on your shoulders. Luckily, you have a cute apartment and an even cuter boyfriend to fall back on. “Baby! How was work?” San hums as he captures you into a bear hug, his scent of fresh linen and cake enough to lull you to sleep. You take a deep breath into his chest before pulling away to look at him. “It was exhausting..” you sigh before cracking a smile in reply to his pout. “My poor angel..” San coos, pulling you back closer to pepper you with kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his soft lips caressing your skin.
Eventually, San pulls himself away from you to let you wash up while he prepared dinner. After a nice, warm shower you slip into comfortable pajamas before heading back out into the living room to be greeted with the comforting smell of all your favorite foods. You slowly approach San, wrapping your arms around his waist as he continued to stir the pot on the stove. “Is all this for me?” You giggle before pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. San smiles, his muscles relaxing along with yours, “I noticed how stressed you’ve been lately so I decided to treat you.”
You both then fill your stomachs with delicious homemade food as you rant to San about your day at work and he intently listens (with rather hilarious comments). The table grows comfortably silent as the feeling of rejuvenation seeps into you. San begins cleaning up the table when he notices your sleepy expression. “Don’t fall asleep yet, angel. I still have one more treat.” He chuckles, a hint of mischief in his tone.
Before sleep could fully consume you, you catch San from the corner of your eye bringing out a box from the fridge. You manage to prop yourself up in your chair, staring curiously at the cream colored cake box with a white ribbon wrapped around it. San gently opens the box to reveal a strawberry white chocolate cake. Soft fluffy layers of yellow cake with white chocolate cream and fresh red strawberries.
“Oh!” You perk up in surprise. “Isn’t this that really expensive cake you love?” You ask him with wide eyes. San meets your gaze with a soft one and chuckles. “Mhm, I really wanted to go all out for you, princess.” He replies before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And maybe I also wanted an excuse to buy this.” He whispers against your skin, making you giggle from both the revelation and the feeling of his breath against you.
You both enjoy a slice of the rich and delicious cake, reveling in its flavor and softness. You can’t help but smile as you think of everything your boyfriend has done to make you feel better from all the stress from work. You approach San and suddenly take a seat in his lap. San’s hands instinctively find their place on your hips. “M’so happy, Sannie.” You hum as you wipe away a spot of cream on his cheek with your thumb. “Feel so much better ‘cause of you~” You begin to pepper his face with kisses.
“Anything for my angel.” He replies, his tone more sultry as he captures you into a kiss. You two softly begin to make out. As the need for each other began to grow stronger, you pressed deeper into him. San’s hands begin to wander about your body, going up your sides with one squeezing your breasts. You moan into the kiss before pulling away, giving yourself and San a moment you catch your breaths. “N-Need you right now..” You pant, your hips unconsciously beginning to grind against him.
Something in San snaps from this, making him immediately lift you up from his lap and setting you on the table. He crashes his lips onto yours as you begin to make out again, this time with more haste. San’s hands now have more urgency as they tug onto your shorts. You let out a chuckled moan before lifting your hips to allow him to slip off your shorts. San pulls away, dipping his hand between your legs and groaning. “Fuck baby, have you been this wet f’me the entire time?” He muses, his flushed face and hazy eyes making him look insatiable.
You moan as you feel San’s thick digits slip past your panties and into your heat. Your hand flies up to grip his shoulder as you throw your head back. “Ngh~ F-Fuck!” San smirks at your reaction, slightly curling his fingers at just the right angle to pull out more sounds from you. “Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”He teases, his fingers freezing when you take your eyes off of his. San keeps his deep and slow pace going till he feels you clench around him. He then quickly pulls his fingers out, dragging a whine out from you along with them.
“W-Why’d you stop..?” You pout, your mind still scrambled from being so close to orgasm. San’s heart flutters at your dazed out expression, fueling his urge to tease you even more. “This won’t do, baby. Need you cumming on something better.” He hints before lowering down on his knees, getting directly in front of your cunt. He hooks his left hand onto the waist band of your panties, looking up at you to observe for any discomfort. You look down at him, his puppy eyes hard to refuse. You nod as a signal of permission to strip off the flimsy garment.
As San peels off the now soaked cloth, he can’t help but groan as he’s met with the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck..” He mutters, unable to restrain himself any longer. San immediately licks a fat stripe up your cunt, his warm tongue making you moan in relief. San doesn’t waste time in eating you out, his licks becoming sloppier as he made out with your clit.
San then gets a devilish idea. He forces to pull himself away from your cunt, a soft “pop!” sound coming from it. He wipes your slick away from his chin. Youlook down at him confused, wondering why he had to pull away yet again when you were oh so close to that sweet release. Your eyes then go from hazy to wide when you watch him dip his fingers into the icing of the cake. San smirks maliciously as he looked up at you. “It’ll feel a bit weird, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll make you feel so good~” He coos mockingly, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.
You wince as the sensation of cold icing being smeared all over your slit. It was strange, yet so incredibly good. You feel yourself growing wetter at the scandalous predicament you’ve found yourself in. Meanwhile, San feels his sanity slip as he coated your cunt with the white chocolate icing. If heaven was a place on earth, it was right between your legs for him and this only made it even better.
Once he felt satisfied with the amount of icing, he instantly went in, lapping up every bit of icing. You knew how good San was with his tongue, but you didn’t think it could get any better?! The cold icing along with his warm tongue on your hole stimulated you in the best way possible. You start to feel dizzy, gripping at San’s hair to ground yourself. “G-Gonna cum..” you manage to stutter out.
San moans into your cunt in reply, beginning to pick up the pace with his tongue as his hands kept your legs spread wide. “C’mon princess, let go f’me.” He coaxes in a low tone. You try your best to keep your eyes on his as you feel your orgasm approaching, the knot in your stomach tightening. As you feel it about to release your whole body shudders before you see white. “Ngh~! Fuck!” You scream in pleasure.
San moans with you, lapping up every last bit of your essence while savoring its taste. Once he’s cleaned you up, he pulls away and wipes yourself from his chin. “Did so good for me, angel..” he coos as he planted a kiss to your temple. San takes a moment to admire your blissed out expression before growing aroused once more. “It’s only right for me to reward you.”
Your head blanks out, but when you manage to snap back to reality again you find yourself in you and San’s shared bedroom. You’re comfortably propped up against soft pillows with San between your legs. He’s completely bare now and visible right in front of you. You take a moment to ogle at his body. His large muscular, yet soft build making you want to bite into his biceps.
San notices the way your eyes bulge out of your head at the sight of him and can’t help but blush. “You liking the view, baby?” He teased. Your dry throat gulps nervously when your gaze starts traveling lower, down to San’s length. It was thick and long, his pink tip already drooling. You’ve seen him like this before, but you can’t help but get nervous every time.
San’s cock begins to prod at your entrance and you’re already gripping on the sheets for support. “M’gonna make you feel so good, angel~ You ready?” He asks, tilting your chin so that you’re looking right at him. His gaze lustful but also gentle, reminding you that you have the option to stop whenever. But you don’t wanna stop, you wanna have him inside. You nod intently in reply but San doesn’t move. “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.” He chided. “Yes Sannie, m’ready.” You confirm.
San grins and kisses you deeply before pushing into you. You moan into the kiss as you feel your body stretching around San’s cock, hitting just where you needed him to. He starts slow and gentle, making sure you feel every inch going in and out of you. And as he speeds up, he begins to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and pepper your neck with kisses and hickeys.
“That’s it angel, take it like a good girl~” He moans, his movements growing sloppier. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back. San groans in pleasure at the feeling of your nails scratching his skin, motivating him to pick up the pace. “You gonna cum for me again, princess?” You manage to nod dumbly, drool beginning to spill from the corner of your mouth.
Your moans grow louder as you feel a knot tightening in you once again, and you assume that San feels it too as he whines pathetically. “F-Fuck~! That’s it, baby..cum on my cock like a good girl..~” He pants, his voice starting to break into whimpers. You both release at the same time, with San pushing his hips deep into you, filling you up with his seed.
You both ride out your orgasm before San slowly pulls out of you, a spew of you and his cum leaking out of you. You whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. The room is filled with the scent of sex and the sound of you and San’s pants. San then gets up and disappears into your shared bathroom for a moment before returning with a wet cloth.
He gently wipes you down, humming sweet praises to you as he did. “You were so good for me, angel.” He whispers gently, his touches as light as a feather as if you were made of glass. “I love you, Sannie.” You manage to mewl out. “I love you too, angel.” San smiles, kissing the top of your head before you begin to feel the long awaited lull of sleep consume you.
the people crave for boypussy!woo after your boypussy!hwa fic pls pls pls i beg
─── BUNNY ♡
SUMMARY / He’s been bored out of his mind waiting for you to come back from work. Poor baby is so pent up, he just wants his mommy to touch him.
warnings ✩ nsfw link, ftm!wooyoung, f!reader, some fluff and smut, sub!wooyoung, soft dom!reader, fingering (both), oral (both), strap-on use, choking, praise and degradation, pet names + mommy kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, ejaculating dildo (heh)
word count ✩ 6.66k
tags ✩ request or dm to be on my taglist!
ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST
NOTE !! The people get what they want!
3:12.
He’s been staring at the clock all day waiting for you to get back.
"Fuck," Wooyoung muttered under his breath, drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter. The rhythmic tapping matched the second hand of the clock, each tick louder than the last. He'd cleaned the apartment twice, reorganized his vinyl collection, and even attempted to cook. He burned the shit out of the rice, but whatever. None of it helped.
4:37.
The apartment smelled like charred rice and impatience. Wooyoung paced from the living room to the bedroom for the fifteenth time, kicking a stray sock out of his way with more force than necessary. His phone buzzed in his pocket—another useless notification. Not you. Never you when he wanted you most.
5:09.
The key turned in the lock just as Wooyoung was debating whether to text you for the third time in twenty minutes. His head snapped up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet scrambling toward the door. You barely had time to drop your bag before he was on you, hands gripping your waist like he’d drown if he let go.
"Jesus, Wooyoung—!" You gasped as his teeth scraped your neck, his whole body pressing you back against the wall. Your keys clattered to the floor, forgotten. His hands were already under your shirt, rough and desperate, like he'd been counting the seconds skin-to-skin.
“I missed you,” Wooyoung breathed against your skin, his voice ragged with want. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you flush against him so you could feel exactly how much. “You were gone too fucking long. I was about to explode.”
"That’s what work’ll do to you, sweet thing," you muttered, tipping your head back against the wall as Wooyoung's lips trailed fire down your throat. His hands were everywhere at once—under your shirt, tugging at your belt loops, pressing insistently between your thighs like he couldn’t decide which part of you to claim first. "Okay! Can I declutter first?!"
Wooyoung let out a frustrated groan, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as you pushed him back just enough to wiggle out of your coat. "Mmh no," he whined, fingers immediately hooking into your belt loops to drag you close again. "Declutter later. Me now." His breath hitched when you arched an eyebrow, unmoved, and he squeezed his eyes shut like a kid denied candy. "Please, mommy."
"Uh-huh. Coat first." You shoved him back again, this time with enough force that he stumbled a step, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout that would’ve been comical if his eyes weren’t so dark with hunger.
You shrugged out of your coat, hanging it neatly on the hook by the door like the slowest possible torture. Wooyoung made a wounded noise in the back of his throat, fingers twitching at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from grabbing you again.
“Aw, bunny,” you cooed, reaching out to pinch Wooyoung’s flushed cheek while he glared at you. His hand shot up to grab your wrist before you could pull away, his grip tight but not painful, just insistent, like he needed the contact to breathe.
“You’re so fucking mean,” he grumbled, but the way his thumb rubbed circles into your pulse point betrayed him.
"Mean?" You smirked, letting him drag you closer by the wrist until his chest bumped yours. "You're the one who nearly broke the door down when I walked in."
Wooyoung's grip on your wrist tightened just enough to make your breath catch. "You like it," he muttered, lips brushing the inside of your palm before he nipped at the skin there, sharp enough to sting. You hissed, but the sound twisted into a laugh when he immediately soothed the bite with his tongue, eyes flicking up to yours like a challenge.
"You're such a brat," you sighed, but the way your fingers curled into his hair gave you away. Wooyoung grinned against your palm, all sharp edges and smug satisfaction, before suddenly dropping to his knees with a thud that made you jump. His hands slid up your thighs, slow and deliberate, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants like he owned them.
“Oh—okay, in front of the door. That’s cool,” you muttered, but Wooyoung was already tugging your pants down your hips before you could finish the sentence. His teeth grazed the inside of your thigh, biting just hard enough to make your breath hitch, and you barely had time to brace yourself against the wall before his mouth was on you, hot and wet and relentless.
“Woo—” Your protest died in your throat when he sucked hard enough to make your knees buckle. He tugged at your underwear with his teeth, tongue dragging across the fabric and creating a noticeable wet patch.
His fingers dug into the backs of your thighs as he yanked you forward, nearly knocking you off balance. You barely caught yourself on the wall, fingers scrambling for purchase as Wooyoung’s tongue licked a hot stripe through the fabric.
“Jesus—Woo, the door,” you gasped, half-concerned about neighbors, half-distracted by the way his teeth scraped against your clit through the soaked material. He ignored you, peeling your underwear aside with his thumb, mouth already moving like he’d mapped out every inch of you in his head while you were gone.
The wet sound of his mouth working against you was obscenely loud, the noises leaking into the hallway past the open front door, and you bit your lip hard enough to taste copper when Wooyoung groaned against your skin, the vibration shooting straight to your core.
His fingers dug bruises into your thighs as he yanked you closer still, his nose bumping against your clit with every messy lick like he was trying to drown himself in you. “Fuck, mommy,” he panted against your skin, lips slick and swollen, “you taste so good—fuck—”
The hallway air was thick with the sound of skin and desperate breaths, your fingers twisting in Wooyoung’s hair hard enough to make him whine, not in protest, but encouragement. He lapped at you like a man starved, his tongue flat and broad as it dragged up your slit, slow just to feel you twitch against his mouth.
"S-Shit," you hissed, your hips rocking forward, chasing the heat of his lips. He chuckled, the vibration making your thighs tremble, before sucking your clit into his mouth.
You glance at the door. Jesus, if he hadn’t’ve trampled you like that, you would’ve been able to close it. You reached toward it, your fingers stretching, and then he growled into your skin, sucking hard enough to make your vision white out.
“You started this with the door—” You moaned when he sucked harshly on your clit. “—s-still open!”
Wooyoung’s fingers dug harder into your thighs when you tried to reach for the door again. “Leave it,” he mumbled against your skin, tongue flicking over your clit just to feel you jerk against his mouth. His lips were slick with you, spit-smeared and glistening, and the sight of him kneeling there. His eyes locked on yours made your stomach twist.
Your fingers tangled harder in his hair, hips jerking forward when Wooyoung’s tongue curled just right. "Someone’s gonna—" you started, cut off by his teeth grazing your clit. The groan that ripped out of you echoed louder than you intended. Wooyoung’s smirk was palpable against your skin.
Your noises bled into the hallway, but didn’t care. Wooyoung’s tongue was relentless, his nose pressed tight against you as he sucked your clit like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Your thighs trembled, knees threatening to give out. “Fuck—” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair.
“I’m close,” you whimper, voice cracking as Wooyoung’s tongue fucks into you faster. The words barely register, he’s too busy humming against your skin, drunk on the way you clench around his mouth.
The door creaked louder than your gasp when Wooyoung shoved two fingers into you without warning. His mouth never left your clit, sucking harder as your thighs clamped around his head. “Fuck, Woo—!” You jerked against the wall, heels skidding on the hardwood.
Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair, hips jerking forward when his tongue curled just right. "Oh my god, please—" The words dissolved into a choked moan as Wooyoung's teeth grazed your clit. The sound bounced off the hallway walls, too loud, too shameless. His smirk burned against your skin.
Without warning, your legs started to tremble. You grip onto his hair, your knees buckling as Wooyoung licks into you like a starving man. His fingers curl inside you, pressing deep, just the way you like it.
“Fuck, I’m cumming—!”
Your thighs clamped around Wooyoung’s head like a vice, the heel of your foot digging into his back as your orgasm ripped through you. His tongue didn’t let up, if anything, it got worse, licking into you through the tremors until you were shoving at his shoulders with a whimper. “Too much—fuck—”
Wooyoung didn’t let up, his tongue still working you through the aftershocks until your thighs shook too hard to keep him trapped. You slumped against the wall, breath ragged, fingers limp in his hair. He licked his lips, chin glistening, and grinned up at you like he’d just won something.
“You’re evil,” you panted, legs still shaking as Wooyoung licked his lips like he’d just finished dessert. His grin was all teeth, smug and satisfied, even as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand.
Wooyoung stayed on his knees, breathing hard against your thigh. His fingers flexed where they still dug into your skin. "Not evil," he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just hungry. And I missed you."
You push yourself up, shoving him back with your foot as you push the door closed finally. The click of the lock echoes louder than it should, like punctuation to the mess Wooyoung just made of you.
“Bedroom. Now.”
Wooyoung didn’t need telling twice. He lunged off his knees so fast the floorboards creaked, hands already grabbing at your waist before you could take a full step. “Fucking finally,” he growled, teeth scraping your earlobe as he half-dragged, half-carried you toward the bedroom. His grip was bruising, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you’d vanish if he eased up for even a second.
When you made it to the bedroom, Wooyoung was already pulling his shirt off with a reckless urgency that made you laugh until he turned around and you saw his chest heaving, his skin flushed pink from collarbones to waistband.
“You look hot like that,” you murmured, watching Wooyoung’s chest rise and fall like he’d just run a marathon. His pupils were blown wide, lips still wet from you, and the way his fingers trembled as he fumbled with his belt buckle was almost endearing. Almost. You clicked your tongue, stepping forward to bat his hands away. “Let me.”
Wooyoung’s breath hitched when your fingers brushed his stomach, his hips jerking forward instinctively like he couldn’t help it. You smirked, taking your time unbuckling his belt while he whined under his breath, fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to grab you but didn’t dare.
“Mommy,” he groaned, voice cracking when you dragged his zipper down painfully slow. “C’mon, please,” You ignore him, pushing him back against the mattress.
You noticed the wet patch in his underwear, the way his hips twitched forward whenever your fingers brushed his waistband like a dog begging for scraps. "God, you're a mess," you murmured, kissing alongside his happy trail.
Wooyoung whimpered when your fingers finally slipped past the waistband of his underwear, his hips jerking forward to meet your touch before you’d even fully touched him. “Fuck—,” His voice cracked, raw and wrecked.
“My baby’s so wet, isn’t he?” Your fingers tap his clit ever so gently, watching his legs shake as you trace lazy circles. Not enough to push him over, just enough to make him whimper. His hips jerk forward, chasing your touch, but you pull your hand away with a tut.
Wooyoung makes a wounded noise, forehead dropping onto your shoulder as he grabs onto your arm. “No fair,” he slurs against your skin, breath hot and uneven.
"You did this to yourself eating me out when the door was still open. This is your punishment, bunny," you murmured, pressing a kiss to Wooyoung's trembling jaw while your fingers traced idle circles just above where he needed you most. His breath hitched, hips jerking forward in a futile attempt to grind against your hand, but you held him still with your other palm flat against his stomach. "Patience, baby."
Wooyoung whined high in his throat, fingers twisting in the sheets like he might tear them if you didn’t touch him properly soon. You smirked, dragging your fingertips just under the swell of his clit. Close enough to tease, far enough to torture. His hips jerked off the bed, chasing your touch with a desperation that made your stomach clench. “Mommy, please,” His voice cracked, ragged at the edges like he’d been begging for hours.
Wooyoung’s fingers clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with the effort of holding still. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, every inhale catching when your thumb brushed just beneath his clit—not quite touching, but close enough to make his thighs tremble.
“You’re so mean to me,” he whined, voice cracking as you leaned down to nip at his earlobe, your breath hot against his skin.
All you do is chuckle, finally tugging his underwear down his hips in one slow, deliberate motion. Wooyoung kicks them off the second they clear his thighs, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he watches your fingers trail back up his trembling legs.
“So impatient,” you murmur, dragging your nails lightly over his inner thigh just to watch him shiver. His hips jerk off the mattress again, but you press him back down with a firm hand on his stomach. “Stay.”
Wooyoung’s breath hitched when your fingers finally brushed his clit, feather-light, just enough to make his thighs tremble. “There you go,” you murmured, watching his hips jerk off the mattress like he couldn’t help it. His hands fisted the sheets, knuckles white, but he didn’t dare move, not when you’d told him to stay. The obedience made your chest warm, even as his whine cracked the air between you. “Good boy.”
You lean down, kissing the inside of his thigh just to feel him tremble. Wooyoung’s breath comes in ragged bursts, his fingers twisting the sheets tighter with every inch your lips drag closer to where he needs you most. When you exhale against his clit, hot and slow, he lets out a sound that’s half-sob, half-laugh — like he’s both overwhelmed and desperate for more.
“God, you’re too pretty like this,” you murmur, nipping at the soft skin of his inner thigh just to watch him squirm. His hips jerk forward, but you press him down again with a firm hand on his stomach, your thumb rubbing slow circles into the dip of his hipbone. “Look at you. So wet for mommy.”
“Yeah—,” Wooyoung’s voice cracks, halfway between a whine and a plea, hips twitching helplessly under your palm. His clit pulses under your thumb when you press down just slightly, just enough to make his breath stutter. You watch the way his stomach tenses, the way his thighs shake when you drag your nail lightly over the swollen bud. “Fuck— fuck, please—“
“You smell so good, bunny.” Your voice was low, teasing, as you pressed your nose against Wooyoung’s inner thigh, inhaling deep just to feel him shudder. His hips jerked off the mattress, a whine caught between his teeth, but you didn’t give him what he wanted, not yet. Instead, you dragged your tongue up the crease of his thigh, slow and deliberate, savoring the way his breath hitched like he’d been punched.
“So fucking pretty,” you murmured, lips brushing his clit just enough to make his legs shake. “All spread out for me like this.”
“Mm, mommy can’t wait to taste you.” The words dripped from your lips like honey, slow and deliberate, just to watch Wooyoung’s thighs twitch. His breath hitched when you blew a cool stream of air over his clit, his hips jerking off the mattress in a silent plea. You smirked, dragging your teeth lightly over his inner thigh.
“I bet it hurts, huh?” you coo, pressing a kiss to the trembling skin just below his hipbone. “Good things come to boys who wait.”
Wooyoung's entire body arched off the mattress when your tongue finally—finally—dragged a slow, flat stripe up his clit. The sound he made was halfway between a sob and a curse, his fingers ripping at the sheets like he might tear them apart.
"Fuck!" His voice cracked, thighs trembling violently when you sucked him into your mouth without warning, your lips tight and relentless around his throbbing clit. His hips jerked forward on instinct, but you pinned him down with a firm hand on his stomach, your nails digging into his skin just enough to remind him who was in charge.
Wooyoung’s back arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from his throat as your tongue flicked over his clit in quick, punishing circles. His thighs trembled under your grip, slick with sweat where your fingers dug into his skin. “I-It feels s’good, mommy—” His voice was raw, ragged at the edges like he’d been screaming for hours. You hummed against him, the vibration sending a violent shudder through his body, his hips jerking helplessly against your mouth.
You lift his legs and rest them over your shoulders, burying your face deeper between his thighs just to hear the way his voice breaks. Wooyoung claws at the sheets, his back arching off the mattress as you suck his clit into your mouth, lips tight and insistent. His hips jerk forward, chasing the pressure, but you pin him down, your forearm across his stomach now.
Wooyoung’s fingers twisted into your hair, not pulling, just holding on like he’d float away otherwise. His thighs trembled against your shoulders, every ragged gasp punched out of him as your tongue worked him over with slow, deliberate strokes. The taste of him filled your mouth, and you groaned against his skin just to feel him jerk like he’d been electrocuted.
Wooyoung’s thighs clamped around your head, his heels digging into your back as his entire body tensed like a bowstring. “G-Gonna—fuck—” The warning dissolved into a strangled cry as his orgasm hit, his hips stuttering against your mouth while you drank him down, slow and relentless.
His fingers twisted tighter in your hair, pulling just enough to sting, but you didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, not when he was shuddering and gasping above you like a man drowning.
Wooyoung was still trembling from his first orgasm when your fingers trailed down his stomach, tracing idle circles along his belly button. His breath hitched, hips jerking forward instinctively only for your palm to press him firmly back into the mattress. "Stay," you murmured, nipping at the inside of his thigh just to hear him whine.
Wooyoung whimpered when your fingers traced lower, teasing the slick heat between his thighs. His legs twitched, still sensitive from the first orgasm, but he didn’t pull away, just arched his back in silent invitation. You smirked against his skin, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh before dragging your tongue up his clit again, slow and deliberate. His breath hitched, hips jerking off the mattress, but you pinned him down with your free hand, fingers rubbing lazy circles just above his entrance.
Your fingers teased his entrance, pressing in just enough to make him gasp before retreating again. Wooyoung whined, hips jerking forward in a futile attempt to chase your touch, but you held him down with your forearm still firm across his stomach.
"So greedy," you murmured against his inner thigh, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. His fingers twisted in your hair, tugging sharply to anchor himself as your tongue dragged another slow, torturous stripe up his clit.
Your fingers traced lazy circles around Wooyoung’s entrance, just barely dipping in before retreating, enough to make his hips jerk off the mattress with a whine that bordered on pathetic. “Mommy,” he gasped, fingers twisting in your hair like he couldn’t decide whether to pull you closer or shove you away. “I-I’ve been so good, pleaseee—”
Your fingers press into him without warning, curling deep just as your tongue flicks over his clit again. Wooyoung's entire body bows off the bed, a ragged scream tearing from his throat as his thighs clamp around your head like a vice.
"S-Shit! Shit, oh my god—" His voice cracks, hands scrambling for purchase in the sheets as you crook your fingers just right, rubbing that spot inside him that makes his vision blur. His hips jerk forward uncontrollably, fucking himself onto your fingers with a desperation that would be embarrassing if he had the capacity to care.
Wooyoung’s breath came in ragged, punched-out gasps as your fingers worked him open with slow, deliberate strokes. His hips twitched helplessly, riding the rhythm of your hand while your mouth stayed glued to his clit, sucking just hard enough to keep him teetering on the edge.
“Fuck—ah! Fffuck!” His voice cracked, fingers clawing at the sheets as you crooked your fingers inside him, pressing against that spot that made his thighs shake. You hummed against him, the vibration dragging another whine from his throat, his back arching off the mattress like he was trying to escape the pleasure.
Wooyoung came with a sound like glass breaking—sharp, sudden, and utterly beyond his control. His back arched off the mattress so violently the headboard slammed against the wall, his thighs clamping around your head hard enough to bruise.
You didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, not when his entire body was shuddering apart beneath you, his hands scrabbling at your shoulders like he was trying to push you away and drag you closer all at once. His clit pulsed against your tongue, swollen and oversensitive, but you kept licking, kept sucking, until his whines turned to sobs and his hips stuttered in aborted little jerks against your mouth.
“M-Mommy— please, please, please— I-I can’t—” Wooyoung’s voice shattered into a sob as his hips jerked uncontrollably, his body taut like a bowstring about to snap. You didn’t let up, fingers still working inside him, tongue flicking over his oversensitive clit with ruthless precision.
His thighs trembled violently, slick with sweat where they pressed against your shoulders, and when he came again, it was with a sound so raw it barely resembled human speech—just a choked, guttural noise ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.
Spurts of liquid landed on your hand and arm, even on your face. His back arched off the bed so sharply you worried he might hurt himself, his fingers scrabbling at the sheets like he was trying to claw his way out of his own skin.
Finally, you pull away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as Wooyoung collapses against the mattress like a marionette with its strings cut. His chest heaves, skin flushed deep red from his collarbones down to where his thighs still twitch involuntarily. A thin sheen of sweat makes him glisten under the dim bedroom light, and when you drag your fingers through the mess between his legs, he whimpers.
“Aw, bunny. I’m not even done with you yet,” you cooed, watching Wooyoung’s eyelids flutter as he fought to stay conscious. His chest still heaved, his skin sticky with sweat where your fingers traced idle patterns over his hipbones. When you pressed your thumb against his clit again, just a featherlight touch, his entire body jerked like he’d been electrocuted, a broken noise tearing from his throat.
Wooyoung barely had time to catch his breath before you were sliding off the bed, leaving him sprawled and twitching on the sheets like a discarded puppet. His fingers scrabbled weakly at the mattress as he tried and failed to prop himself up on trembling elbows.
“W-Wait—where—” His voice cracked, raw from screaming, but you were already across the room, rummaging through the dresser drawer with single-minded focus.
Wooyoung blinked dazedly at the ceiling, his thighs still twitching with aftershocks as the mattress dipped with your absence. The room spun slightly, or maybe that was just his vision blurring, but he managed to turn his head just enough to watch you stride toward the dresser. His breath hitched when you yanked the bottom drawer open with a careless jerk, the wood scraping loud enough to make his oversensitive nerves flinch.
The drawer screeched open, your fingers closing around the familiar silicone harness before Wooyoung could even process what was happening. His breath hitched audibly when you turned back to him, the strap dangling from your grip like a promise.
Wooyoung barely had time to whimper before you grabbed his hips and flipped him onto his stomach, his cheek smushing against the damp sheets as his legs instinctively spread wider. His breath hitched when you dragged the harness straps through your fingers with deliberate slowness, watching the way his back arched in anticipation—like a cat stretching before pouncing.
“Up,” you ordered, tapping his ass until he lifted his hips with a shaky exhale, his thighs trembling from the effort.
Wooyoung barely had the strength to lift himself onto his elbows, his thighs still trembling from the aftershocks. But the second your fingers dug into his hips, he obeyed, rolling onto his stomach with a shaky exhale. His chest pressed flat against the mattress, arms folding beneath his head as he arched his back instinctively, presenting himself like a goddamn offering.
"This what you’ve been waiting for? Hm?" you chuckle, smoothing your hands down Wooyoung's trembling back as you lined up behind him. “For mommy’s cock to be deep inside you?”
His breath hitched audibly when the tip of the toy pressed against him, still loose from your fingers but twitching tight with anticipation. "Look at you," you cooed, dragging the dildo in slow circles just to watch his hips jerk. "Already dripping for me like a good boy."
Wooyoung's breath hitched when you pushed into him in one slow, unrelenting stroke, his chest lifting off the mattress like a live wire, fingers scrambling for purchase in the sheets. "Fffuck, i-it’s so…” His voice cracked, raw and wrecked, as you bottomed out inside him, hips flush against his trembling ass.
"So good for me," you murmured, dragging your nails down the sweat-slick curve of his spine just to feel him shudder. "Taking me so deep like this, baby. Perfect. God, I bet it’s so deep, huh?”
The first thrust punched the air from Wooyoung’s lungs—hard enough to send his face smacking into the mattress, his fingers twisting the sheets into knots.
“Jesus—!” His voice cracked, spine arching like a bowstring as you bottomed out inside him, the stretch bordering on too much after how thoroughly you’d already wrecked him. You paused, grinding deeper just to hear the wet, punched-out noise he made, his thighs trembling violently against yours.
"Mmmh, look at you," you murmured, one hand gripping Wooyoung's hip hard enough to bruise as the other smoothed up the trembling curve of his spine. He shuddered violently when you pulled out almost completely, just to slam back in with a wet snap of skin against skin that echoed off the bedroom walls. His choked moan dissolved into a whine when you didn't let up, setting a relentless pace that had his thighs quivering within seconds. "So fucking perfect for me, bunny. Taking me so good—you feel that? How deep I am?"
Your hands slither up his back, one grabbing his neck and pushing him into the mattress. Wooyoung whines into the sheets, the sound muffled but no less desperate, his hips twitching back against you instinctively.
"Such a good boy," you murmur, your voice dripping with honeyed praise as you roll your hips forward in a slow, grinding motion that has his thighs shaking.
His breath hitches, fingers clawing at the sheets when you pull back only to thrust in again, deeper this time, until his back arches like a drawn bowstring. "You take me so good every time."
"Fuck, look at you," you growled, tightening your grip on Wooyoung's hips as you snapped forward without warning, burying yourself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. His scream shattered against the mattress, hands scrabbling at the sheets like he might tear them apart. "Taking me like you were made for it—god, you’re perfect." Your praise dripped from your lips between ragged breaths, each word punctuated by another punishing snap of your hips that drove him deeper into the mattress.
"You love this, don't you?" The words were a growl against Wooyoung's ear as your fingers tightened around his throat, cutting off his next whimper before it could escape. His hips jerked back against yours instinctively, his body moving on autopilot even as his breath stuttered under your grip. "That's it—fuck yourself back on me, baby. Show mommy how much you need it.”
"Greedy pussy sucking me in—" The words punched out of you between thrusts, your hips slamming into Wooyoung's trembling body with a rhythm that sent the headboard cracking against the wall like a gunshot. Your fingers tightened around his throat, cutting off his next whimper before it could escape, and the way his thighs jerked told you he loved it. His hips stuttered, oversensitive and shaking, but he still pushed back against you with a desperation that made your stomach clench.
"Fuck, baby—look at you," you groaned, snapping your hips forward in a brutal rhythm that had Wooyoung's thighs slapping against yours with every thrust. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, fingers twisting the sheets into knots as you piston into him without mercy.
"M-Mommy—, ah!" Wooyoung's voice shattered into a sob as you pistoned into him faster, your hips snapping forward with a brutal rhythm that left no room for mercy. You didn't slow down, couldn't slow down, not when he was so tight and wet around you, his body arching back into every thrust like he was starving for it.
"Tell mommy how much you needed," you growled, one hand tightening around his hip while the other dragged nails down his sweat-slick spine.
Wooyoung's entire body convulsed when your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head back sharply and forcing his spine into a cruel arch as you drove into him with relentless precision. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, drool spilling down his chin as his vision blurred at the edges.
“N-Needed it so bad," He groaned, a bit of saliva dribbling down his chin. “Can’t—I can’t.. ‘m close,” The warning dissolved into a wet, guttural moan as his hips stuttered wildly, his feet kicking up behind you as he neared orgasm.
Wooyoung's fingers scrabbled uselessly against the sheets when you abruptly flipped him onto his back, his legs hooking around your waist before his brain could catch up. His chest heaved, lips parted in a silent gasp as you loomed over him, his hair a mess and sweat dripping down your collarbones. The raw hunger in your eyes punched the air from his lungs. "Mommy—" His voice cracked, hands fluttering against your thighs like he wasn't sure whether to push or pull.
Wooyoung’s head tipped back against the mattress as you slammed into him, the angle deeper no. His hands flew to your thighs, fingers digging in hard enough to leave crescents in your skin, but he didn’t push you away. His hips jerked up to meet every thrust, his breath coming in ragged, punched-out gasps that dissolved into whimpers when your thumb brushed his swollen clit.
Wooyoung's back arched violently when your thumb pressed down, a rough, unforgiving circle that sent sparks shooting up his spine. His mouth fell open in a soundless scream, fingers clawing at your thighs as his hips bucked wildly, desperate for friction, for release, for anything.
"P-Please—" The word shattered into a sob as you snapped your hips forward, the harness dragging against that sweet spot inside him with brutal precision. His vision whited out for a second, his entire body locking up like a live wire.
Wooyoung’s entire body went rigid, his thighs clamping around your waist like a vice as his orgasm ripped through him with a violence that left him gasping—raw, shattered sounds punched from his chest with each stuttering thrust you didn’t let up. His clit pulsed under your thumb, oversensitive and twitching, but you kept rubbing, kept fucking into him, until his whimpers dissolved into sobs and his hands fluttered weakly against your hips like he was trying to push you away.
“Fuck, you’re so hot cumming around my dick, baby! You want me to fill you up?” You laugh, breathless, as Wooyoung’s thighs clamp around your waist, his whole body shuddering like a leaf in a storm as his orgasm rips through him. His fingers scrabble weakly at your hips, his hips jerking in aborted little thrusts as you keep rolling into him, slower now but relentless, dragging out every last aftershock until his whines dissolve into wet, hiccupping sobs.
“You want me to cum in you, huh? Mmmh, you’d look so pretty full, bunny.”
Wooyoung’s breath hitched in a wet, broken gasp when you slowed your thrusts to a torturous grind, the harness pressing deep inside him as you leaned down to lick a stripe up his sweaty throat.
His fingers twitched against your thighs, weak and uncoordinated, but his hips still jerked up instinctively, like his body couldn’t stop chasing yours even when he was oversensitive and shaking. “M-Mommy,” His voice cracked, raw from screaming, and you nipped at his jaw just to feel him shudder.
Wooyoung’s thighs trembled violently when you pulled out almost completely, only to slam back in with a wet, filthy noise that had his toes curling into the sheets. His breath hitched in a broken whimper, oversensitive and wrung-out, but his hips still arched up instinctively, chasing the drag of the harness inside him like he couldn’t help himself.
"Greedy," you murmured, dragging your nails down his sweat-slick chest just to watch him jerk. His clit pulsed under your thumb, swollen and red, and when you pressed down hard, his entire body locked up, back bowing off the mattress like he’d been electrocuted.
“Fuck, I’m cumming baby,” You moan, hips stuttering against Wooyoung’s ass as the harness pulses inside him, the silicone tip releasing a warm gush of liquid that makes him whimper. His thighs twitch violently around your waist, oversensitive and trembling, but he doesn’t pull away, just arches his back higher, pressing himself deeper onto the toy like he’s trying to milk every last drop.
“Gonna fill you up so good,” you growl, grinding deeper as the harness releases another spurt.
The harness pulsed inside Wooyoung with another warm gush, the liquid trickling down as he shuddered violently beneath you, his body arching into each spasm like it was wired to take everything you gave him.
"Oh my god," His voice cracked, raw and ruined, fingers scrabbling weakly at your hips as you ground deeper, milking the last of the harness's release into him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. You smirked at the way his stomach twitched with each pulse, his clit swollen and oversensitive where it rubbed against the base of the harness.
Wooyoung’s body went slack beneath you, his chest heaving as he stared dazedly at the ceiling, his lips parted and skin flushed from his collarbones down to where your fingers still pressed against his trembling thighs. The harness pulsed inside him one last time, and he whimpered, a weak little noise that cracked halfway through. You leaned down, licking a stripe up his sweaty throat just to feel him shudder. “Still with me, bunny?”
Wooyoung blinked up at you, his eyelashes fluttering like he was trying to focus through a haze. His lips parted and his throat bobbing as he swallowed weakly. His fingers twitched against your thigh, too weak to grip but still trying, like his body hadn’t gotten the memo that it was utterly spent.
“M’here,” he slurred, voice wrecked and syrupy-slow, his hips giving a feeble jerk when you shifted slightly inside him. A thin trickle of liquid seeped from where the harness pressed into him, and his breath hitched, oversensitive and trembling.
His eyelashes fluttered when you pulled out slowly, watching the way his thighs instinctively squeezed together as if trying to keep you inside. A shudder wracked his body as liquid spilled onto the sheets beneath him, his breath hitching when your fingers trailed through the mess, spreading it across his trembling stomach.
"Fuck," he laughed weakly, voice shredded beyond recognition, his hips twitching weakly when you rubbed on his abdomen.
“Are you okay?” you laugh as you begin to unstrap yourself, sitting it down beside you two. You run your hands up and down his legs.
“Yeah, I just…” His thighs twitched when you brushed a thumb over his hipbone, his eyelashes fluttered like he was fighting to stay awake. “I need a minute,”
“Okay, bunny,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead before sliding off the bed. The sheets rustled as you grabbed the discarded towel that was nearby, dampening it with warm water from the bathroom sink before returning to his side.
The damp towel was warm against Wooyoung’s flushed skin as you dragged it over his trembling thighs, wiping away the sticky mess between his legs with slow, deliberate strokes. He whimpered at the first touch, his body oversensitive and twitching, but didn’t pull away. His fingers curling weakly into the sheets like he was anchoring himself to the bed.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the inside of his knee when his leg jerked involuntarily. His skin was fever-hot under your lips, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the air as you cleaned him with careful hands.
You reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. "Drink," you murmured, pressing the rim to his lips, and he obeyed with a sleepy whine, his throat bobbing weakly as he swallowed. Half of it dribbled down his chin, his coordination shot to hell, but you wiped it away with your thumb before he could even register the spill.
Wooyoung blinked up at you, his lashes sticky with tears, lips swollen and parted as he struggled to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven hitches—each exhale trembling like he might shatter apart if you touched him again. But when your fingers brushed a damp curl from his forehead, he leaned into the touch instinctively, his cheek pressing into your palm like a cat seeking warmth.
Wooyoung's fingers twitched weakly against your thigh, his body limp and spent, but his lips still curved into a drowsy smile when you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "M'good," he slurred, the words barely audible as his eyelashes fluttered shut.
You laughed softly, tucking the blanket around his shoulders before sliding off the bed, your own legs shaky from exertion. “Want some food?”
“Please,” he chuckled, turning to his side and sighing.
The room smelled like sex and sweat, the air thick and humid, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Not when Wooyoung was sprawled across the sheets like a satisfied cat, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths.
“I love you, Wooyoungie,” you tease as you stand in the doorway, holding onto the doorknob.
a/n: I’ve been a bit sick with lesbianism (and the flu) lately so here’s something filthy to snack on :3 thank you for all the support on my first fic!! ᥫ᭡
Warnings ! : bunny hybrid!user x magical witch!Seonghwa, smut, heat, fingering, edging, dumbification, praise, oral, magic play (?), scissoring, petnames (bunny, sweetheart, angel, etc.), reader is Seonghwa’s familiar, Reader addresses Seonghwa as Miss and Mommy.
It’s a rainy day at the cottage, perfect weather for you to take your daily nap. Only, it’s hard to relax with a particularly frustrating throb between your legs. You try to ignore it, burying your head into the plethora of pillows you surrounded yourself with. Still, no matter how hard you try to soothe yourself, you just can’t seem to get it to go away. It is only when you find yourself unconsciously beginning to hump at your pillow do you realize what is wrong. You’re in heat.
You’re quick to get on your feet and trot to the best and only person who could help you, Seonghwa. You find her lounging on the couch covered in knit blankets, her relaxed figure lit in an orange light from candle flames. Her eyes are glued to a book but it doesn’t stop her from noticing you standing a few feet away with your hands clasped infront of you.
“What’s wrong, dear?” She hums, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine and warmth to your stomach. Seonghwa invites you into her arms and you do not hesitate to climb into them. Once you’re settled into her lap, she plays with your soft ears before making eye contact with you, a silent signal that you have her attention. “M-Miss, I think I may be in heat..” You whimper as you bit your lip, your patience thinning as you wait for Seonghwa’s reaction.
Seonghwa is caught by surprise for a moment before softening her gaze with adoration. “Awh, my sweet girl is aching?” She teases, her touch trailing down from your ears to your waist. The subtle gesture of affection is already enough to make you moan as you nod your head. “Y-Yes, Miss. I need you so bad~” You whine, slightly moving your hips against Seonghwa’s thighs before halting when you feel her squeeze your waist. “Ah ah,” She tuts. “You gotta be patient for me, angel.”
Seonghwa then snaps her fingers and within a blink you both are now in the bedroom with Seonghwa sitting at the edge of the bed with you still on her lap. “My poor bunny must be aching for me..” She mockingly coos, caressing your bit-swollen bottom lip before slipping her thumb into your mouth. Seonghwa presses her thumb down on your tongue, making you moan. “M-Miss..please touch me already..” You mumble around her thumb.
Seonghwa then bites her lip before pulling her thumb out of your mouth, a whine dragging out of you along with it. But before you could pout about the emptiness, you are suddenly met with Seonghwa’s lips pressing against yours. You tense from surprise but quickly melt as you feel Seonghwa’s tongue slip into your mouth. As you both made out, Seonghwa laid you down onto the bed with her hands now roaming your body.
You moan into the kiss when you feel Seonghwa’s hand squeeze your clothed breasts before she pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva attaching to you both. “Need you to take these clothes off.” She growls, her eyes predatory. The dominance in her voice arouses you, but also scares you enough to immediately follow orders.
You pull off your shirt, revealing your breasts. The sight makes Seonghwa have to keep herself from already pouncing on you. You then quickly slip off your shorts and begin to tug on the waistband of your panties when Seonghwa stops you. “Uh uh, I’ll take care of that, angel.” She assures you before kissing the tip of your nose.
She then begins to trail her kisses all over your body from your collar bone to the valley of your breasts to your inner thigh. The proximity of her face to your clothed cunt drives you insane with the feeling of her warm breath only making it worse. Before your patience thins any further, Seonghwa presses a kiss to your cunt before peeling off your panties, groaning at the sight of your soaked and neglected pussy.
You moan as you feel the cold air hit your cunt, your thighs trembling before being pulled apart by Seonghwa’s firm grip. “Keep em’ open for me, princess.” She ordered softly. “Mommy needs to see you all wet for me~” She teases before leaning in to begin kitten licking your slit.
Your back arches as you let out a guttural moan. “F-Fuck!” You groan, your hands flying to Seonghwa’s soft pink hair, making her groan into your pussy. The sensitivity of your cunt makes you feel each flick of Seonghwa’s tongue intensely, your mind beginning to go hazy. And when you thought you felt yourself going dumb, Seonghwa began to suck on your clit, snapping you back into reality.
Seonghwa looks up to see your blissed out expression, drool beginning to spill out from the corner of your mouth. The sight only fuels her arousal and desire to make you writhe. She then begins to tease your hole with two fingers, coating her digits with your slick. Your eyes widen and roll to the back of your head from the stimulation of Seonghwa’s mouth on your clit and her fingers circling your entrance. “Mm..eyes on me, bunny.” She moans before plunging two long digits into your sopping cunt.
You immediately clench around her, your desperate heat finally being satiated where it was most needed. “Ungh~ M-Miss~!” You sob, your thighs trembling to close when you suddenly feel a resistance tug them back them open. You look down to see glowing aura wrapping around your thighs like ropes, prying them open. As you stared in awe at the magic, Seonghwa’s now glowing eyes bore into you with raw, primal need.
You quickly snap out of the trance when you feel Seonghwa’s fingers curl and prod against that spongy spot in you. Your grip on Seonghwa’s hair tightened as you let out a deep groan. “Ngh..~ R-Right there, Miss~!” A knot begins to form in your tummy and Seonghwa doesn’t miss it. As you prepare yourself to cum, Seonghwa instantly pulls away.
The sudden emptiness inside you punches a whine out of you as you look down with wet eyes. “M-Miss? Why’d you stop..?” You whimper. Seonghwa can’t help but bite her lip at your pathetic pout. “Mmm..I think I need you to ask properly before I let you cum, doll.” She grins mischievously. Seonghwa then crawls up to whisper in your ear. “Beg for me. beg like the dumb bunny you are.”
Being too fucked out and too close to cumming complain, you immediately begin pleading for release. “Please mommy, please let me cum! I’ll be such a good bunny!” You sob as tears begin welling up in your eyes. The desperation in your voice is like a drug to Seonghwa. Your begs and sobs awakening a hunger in her to hear more. “Oh I’ll make you cum, angel.” She mutters.
Seonghwa begins to strip off her clothes, tossing them around the room. Before your fucked-out brain could process what was happening, Seonghwa pressed her sopping cunt against yours and began to slowly grind. You arch your back and moan, sitting up to kiss Seonghwa. You both are now in a tangle of limbs, your cunts hot and sticky along with your tongues.
You both pick up speed as you feel yourself coming close to the edge again. “F-Fuck..mommy m’gonna cum..!” You moan breathlessly between kisses. Seonghwa moans in reply. “That’s it, princess. Make a mess for me.” She hummed as she guided you to your release.
You both cum at the same time, a white, sticky mess making a mess of you and Seonghwa’s thighs. You pant, resting your head on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “T-Thank you, miss.” You manage to stutter out, making Seonghwa smile softly. “Of course, sweetheart.” She mutters in reply, running her hands through your hair.
summary: every girl has had that exhilarating little crush on their teacher, it’s not unheard of by any means. it almost always amounts to nothing, a small little motivation that keeps you awake in class. most girls don’t get hired by their professors to be a babysitter, and most girls don’t end up entwined in a situation so wrong that it eats them alive at night. not the guilt, or the shame. but the hunger, and the need. and most professors certainly don’t play into those little infatuations, and find themselves chasing that chance to absolutely ruin them. so why are you trying to play house and take on a role that wasn’t meant for you?
warnings: age gap(reader is in her 20’s, mingi is in his 40’s), this is nasty, DILF!mingi, lowkey salt & pepper!mingi, tension, power dynamics, emotional turmoil, girl dad mingi, manipulation, corruption, teasing, condescending!mdom, pet names(sweetheart, pretty baby, darling, slut etc), size kink, voice kink, praise, mating press, oral(f!receiving), countdown, biting, fingering, lowkey breeding kink, choking, overstimulation, dirty talk, eye contact, messy sex, mouth covering, hold the moan, creampie
wc: 18.1k (I am SO sorry)
notes: hiii… my dear @linearities, it’s me your secret admirer! you put down dilf Mingi and I was SAT. and then you mentioned prof!teez, so I just thought why not combine the two? you don’t understand how much I got into this while I was writing it’s kind of insane, god I hope you like it. all the love in the world… thank you @everyonewooeverywhere for hosting such a fun event
- your secret admirer <3
tracklist: million dollar man, strange candy, baby one more time
You weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb, quite the opposite. You were intelligent, cunning. A smart woman who sometimes made foolish decisions. This would be one of them, one of the stupidest you've ever made.
And you would still do it again if ever given a second chance.
It nearly frightened you, the effect he had on you; it was embarrassing enough. It felt like an unattainable crush, a fleeting little infatuation that was bound to pass with time.
But it was so hard to get over it when you saw him nearly every day of the week. And even so, it was still not enough, and far too much all at once.
If it had to be described as anything, the word would be taboo. When he was introducing himself to his class of the year, he started with something that made your stomach do a flip.
“Y’know I have tattoos older than most of you in here, so if you ever question my teaching methods, think long and hard about how much longer I’ve been on earth than you.”
You thought long and hard, alright, and it certainly didn't help your little girly infatuation with your professor.
Professor Song Mingi, a literary instructor at your college. Students clamored during open season to squeeze into his class, which always filled up so quickly during enrollment. His teaching was sound and effective, and it didn’t hurt that he was way too easy on the eyes.
A low, flowing voice that was easy to grip onto and follow, gentle handwriting, and a pristine way with words. Dark tresses that framed his soft yet angular face, pink, puffy lips that wrapped around his syllables like a glove. His pretty, sharp nose beckoned for a rider. His meaty arms that always seemed to be struggling beneath his rolled-up white blazers, the buttons on the cuffs mere seconds from popping off.
His class was always dimly lit, a comfortable aura that made it easy to ease into learning. You could write a 20-page essay on why you enjoyed his class.
He was never dismissive, always listened to his students attentively, and truly valued their thoughts and opinions. He enjoyed shaping young folks' minds and helping them through their way, assisting them in growing and becoming respective, creative individuals.
You never struggled in his class, never had to ask for tutoring sessions. And to be honest, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle a one-on-one with him either way. He was too intimidating, too suffocating.
Whenever he asked the class a question, and you were able to gather your bearings to answer, you could hardly keep yourself from tripping over your words with how intense his gaze was.
Like he was clinging onto every word like a lifeline, his eyebrows raising now and then when your response flowed from your lips, his tongue would poke out the corner of his mouth, nodding along as he listened.
He’d always smile when you finally stumbled through your response, pointing his pen in your direction with a sly grin.
“Smart girl.” That stupid voice that made your brain dissolve into a useless puddle.
It was never good for your nerves.
But recently, you felt like his material has been getting more difficult. Maybe it was because finals for the semester were approaching, and the work started to get more grueling? Or maybe you were just tired, but his lectures started to blend into watercolor, and the readings he assigned the class started to sound like pig Latin.
Luckily, you weren’t the only one confused, when a girl who sat next to you leaned over while he was talking and whispered to you.
“Is he speaking English right now?”
Today was no different; the stress started to weigh on you as more finals began to close in. Recently, you’d been a bit tight on money, trying your best to save up from the barista job you’d been managing for the past year, but it was starting to fall short.
You had set up a job portfolio the night before in a fit of desperation in hopes of snagging a gig on the side in childcare, just to push you through the last few months of the year.
The winter chill nipped at your bones, and you always felt demotivated in the cold. The class dragged on, and you could barely keep your thoughts in a straight line as Professor Song droned on. You tried to cling to every word, retain every piece of information, but it all just seemed to slip away like you had butter fingers.
Your notes became sloppy, and your doodles in the margins became more frequent. Everyone in your immediate vicinity seemed just as hopeless, and this must have caught your professors' attention.
He turned from the board, and his face fell from concentrated to a soft sort of concern. He sighed softly and set his pen on the desk, a quiet clatter on the wood surface. This caught your attention, and you raised your head slowly.
Your eyes locked with his immediately, almost as if he was already trained on you before you raised your gaze. Your eyes dance with one another for a fleeting moment, and something flashes across his face, subtle yet electrifying. Then he’s clearing his throat, ripping his eyes from yours, and swimming over the rest of the lecture room.
He moves away from the board, lifting himself to sit on his desk, crossing his legs, and clasping his hands on his lap.
“Alright, guys, I get it.” The class directs its scattered attention to its professor sitting on his desk, his foot shaking back and forth softly. “It's the end of the semester, we’re all tired. Believe me, I’m in the same boat.”
He turns his head to a framed picture on his desk, a candid photo of him and his young daughter celebrating her birthday at the aquarium. “My daughter keeps whining at me about how hard her coloring sheets are. She can’t for the life of her understand the difference between indigo and violet.”
This pulls a warm laugh out of everyone, and you can’t help but join in. Professor Song never stops talking about his daughter; he loves her with all his heart. He has her many scribbled arts around his lecture room, photos of her on his desk, and her pipe cleaner flowers displayed proudly in the far right corner.
You tap your pen against your notebook rhythmically, and you don’t catch the way his eyes sweep over your face while the laughter dies down. “Everyone’s running on fumes, and I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times, but this is important. We’ll pull through this last month, and we’ll have a few weeks off to laze away, and it’ll be well earned. Right?”
The class nods in agreement, and Professor Song smiles in acknowledgment. “So, do me a beautiful favor, and stay with me a little longer while we get through this, okay? You all have been doing phenomenal this year, let's keep it up til the end, yeah?”
Everyone perks up at the encouraging words, and you find your energy slowly creeping its way back into your blood. Just enough to get through the day, but not enough to prepare for the shitshow that was to come.
Two thousand weekly.
You rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times and drinking some water to be sure you weren’t hallucinating the mail in your inbox.
You had arrived back home after dragging yourself through the last bits of Professor Song’s class, leaving with mostly full note pages and a renewed vigor to pull through this last semester.
The portfolio you had set up on the nanny website already had a response, and quite an unexpected one. A generous offer for pay, a part-time position as a babysitter for a young girl, age 6. Two thousand per week for 6 months, free meals provided, flexible schedule. It was almost too good to be true. The email didn’t go into too much detail, only offering further information if you shot back a response expressing your interest.
It was everything you needed and more, but one thing was making you hesitant. One small, coincidental detail.
Regards, M. Song.
Signed at the bottom of the email, like colorful barbed wire.
It had to be a coincidence. There was no way it was him.
Song is a common last name; you were sure it had to be somebody else. No matter, it was too good to pass up, and you found yourself drafting your email before you gave it any more rational thought. If it were him, it would be dangerous. You’d be deep in enemy territory.
You sent the email expressing enthusiastic interest in the position, and slammed your laptop shut so hard you thought you heard a key fly off. You buried your face in your hands and groaned aloud into the darkness of your bedroom, trying to shake the weird feeling blossoming in your chest.
It had to be a coincidence. There’s no way your literary professor saw the hundreds of capable babysitting portfolios to choose from and decided to pick yours. There’s no way you posted it yesterday, and he just so happens upon a day later and immediately makes his decision.
There was no way he was offering so much money for something as simple as babysitting.
There was no way you’d be able to go through this and maintain a professional, normal attitude.
Not even 10 minutes later, your phone chimes, the blinding light illuminating your dark room, therefore sealing your fate. You hadn’t even clicked the notification, skimming over the email banner before mentally checking out.
Dear Miss L/N,
Thank you for expressing your interest in the position. I would be delighted-
And that was it. You eventually gathered enough courage to open the email. It gave you all the information you needed, a scheduled time to meet at his home to set up the payroll, and introduced you to his daughter. Work out kinks and settle into the position.
Mr. Song doesn’t return home until after dark, well after 9 pm. Your shifts start at 3 pm every day for the next six months. Sundays are guaranteed days off, and he shall keep you posted on future days off if available. You had mentioned in your email that you were a student, so availability might fluctuate depending on school.
His response?
“You mentioned you were a student; I am well aware of this fact. Do not worry, I will ensure that your studies will remain unaffected.”
An insane thing to say, by the way.
It was definitely him. Regardless, you would find out in due time when you finally meet him at his home, and solidify what was to come, which can only be described as unmentionable.
-
His big warm hand encased yours, swallowing it whole so effortlessly. Calloused fingertips brush against the pulse that bounces in your wrist, and you barely keep your breath from hitching. His thumb runs over your knuckles, and you swallow a weird noise.
“Thank you for taking the position, darling. You’re saving me a hell of a lot of time.” That's stupid, grin, toothy, and wide. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the crows' feet making their grand appearance. The streaks of silver that flow through his dark hair like a wave you’ve never noticed until now, so close it was hard to miss.
“Of course… Mr. Song, thank you for considering me.” You weren’t sure whether you should call him professor or a different honorific outside of the lecture room, but he did not correct you, so you assumed it was the right choice.
You caught yourself that Saturday morning paying extra attention to your hair, curling your lashes a little higher, reapplying layers of lip gloss until it looked like you’d been making out with honeycomb.
Throwing together a cute outfit to make a good “first impression.” You couldn’t believe yourself, but once you were out the door and in your car, it was too late to worry about it now.
Your nerves were alight as you made your way to his address. You nearly saw him every goddamn day, but of course, this was different.
His residence was a rustic western style house, furnished with well-kept gardens in the front yards and a freshly painted porch and patio. A cute, homey place that somehow just made him all the more attractive.
You pulled into his driveway, taking your keys out of the ignition and giving your body a moment to relax. A few deep breaths and one life saver mint later, and you were stepping out with your purse in your clutches and your anxiety written all over your poor face.
You hadn’t even noticed until you raised your gaze from your feet, but there he stood. On his front porch, that white blazer with his rolled-up sleeves, no tie today. Black slacks and his glasses low on the bridge of his nose. His eyes are leering at you.
You stopped in place when you saw him, and his expression never changed. A sort of scrutiny on his brow as he watched you step out of your car, dare you say borderline predatory, but you certainly wouldn’t want to set anything into motion by manifestation. Surely not.
You lift your hand and give a curt, polite wave. Then his brows are falling, his lips are curling, and he’s offering a warm, gentle smile.
“(Name.) Good to see you, I’m glad you could make it.” Mingi’s own voice booms over his front yard to your ears, and you force your feet to unstick from the driveway pavement and continue to walk to his home.
You walk up the steps with only slightly shaky legs, face-to-face with him. “Of course, sorry if I’m a bit early.”
He smiles wider, yet softer. “It’s perfectly fine, I’d prefer you be early rather than late. I admire your punctuality; you’ve always been like that.”
You’ve always been like that.
You try not to let the praise get to your head, and you barely miss the way his tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he catches the way your shoulders hunch slightly at his words, and your fingers squeeze the straps of your purse just a little tighter.
“Well, let’s not just stand around. She’s excited to meet you.” Mr. Song turns and pushes open his front door, standing in front of it to hold it open. “After you.”
You smile nervously and slowly walk inside. He watches every step you take as you brush past him, your shoulder just barely grazing his lower chest, there not quite being enough room between him and the door frame to give you a spacious entry. His cologne hits your nose as you walk by, and you stop yourself from inhaling deeply as you plant your feet on his foyer floor, listening as he shuts the door and clicks the lock.
You were in enemy territory, and you had never felt more vulnerable in your life.
Immediately, you were tripping over toys, and you nearly fell backwards as a little girl came running up you, picking up one of the dolls you nearly busted your ass on and handed it to you.
“Okay and scene!” You can’t help the smile that breaks on your face, the confusion of being suddenly thrown into a scene, evident.
“Wait, what’s happening-“
The little girl is carrying another doll, and she shakes it back and forth as she begins to speak. “Where have you been? You’re late again!” She pouts furiously as she points to the doll in your hand, and you know that's your time to shine.
“I’m not late,” you speak through the doll in your grasp, kneeling to sit at eye level with the girl. “In fact, I’m right on time!” You motion the doll’s arm to point at an invisible watch on her plastic wrist, and you practically see the girl light up over you playing along with her.
You pay no attention to Mingi, who stands behind you, watching you interact with his daughter, a small smile on his face. You play along happily, and he can see how much his daughter has already taken a liking to you. But before she can drag you into another scene, Mingi is clearing his throat.
He crouches down and with his strong arms he scoops her up, and little giggles flow from her as he lifts her into his hold. “You little monster!” He grumbles playfully, the sweetest smile on his lips as litters her face in fleeting kisses, an exaggerated ‘mwah’ punctuating each one he landed.
He swings her back and forth like she was on a carnival ride and he laughs morph into joyous squeals, the smile on Mingi’s face nothing short of beautiful.
You watch in awe and admiration, how sweet he is with her and it makes something in your heart twist.
When she reaches her little hand out and pulls on some of his hair, his smile drops a little and hers only widens.
“Ouch- okay, no hair pulling sweetpea we know this.” He gently sets her down, not without the theatrics akin to a landing airplane.
Once her feet touch the ground she mumbles out an adorable sorry, and you swear you see Mingi’s heart melt.
“Alright, lovebug, you can give her more acting lessons later. Daddy needs to talk to her for a second, okay?”
The little girl frowns as you sheepishly hand her back her doll. “Don’t worry, we can play a lot more once I’m all settled in. I promise.” You smile, and she returns it, taking her doll back and bounding away to the couch in the living room, resuming her little roleplay on her own.
You stand up slowly and watch her skip away, somewhat avoiding turning around to see Mr. Song. When you finally turn, his back is to you as he’s begun walking to the kitchen. You follow, nearly tripping over toy cars and plush animals again.
He stops in front of the kitchen island, pouring you and himself a small glass of water out of a filter. He sets the cup on the countertop with a clink, sliding towards you as you stand a few feet away from him, trying to keep as much distance as is deemed appropriate.
When the silence stretches for much too long, you pick up your cup and take a big sip, hoping the cool water will calm your nerves. You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.
“She likes you a lot already.” He states, raising his eyes over and glancing at the back of the couch.
A shy smile graces your face as you take another sip. “You could tell that from such a small interaction, Professor?” You glance up at him over the rim of your glass, and you don’t miss the way his eyebrows raise, and his face shows nothing short of amusement.
“Well, she is my kid after all, and I know her pretty well.” He takes a sip from his own glass, tapping his metal-clad fingers against the checkered walls of the cup. “And I don’t see why she wouldn’t like you.”
Of course, you were going to ask, what the hell does he mean by that? You smile, more confident now, setting your glass on the countertop and crossing your arms over your chest.
“Do tell, what's there to like?” Something about the entire conversation just felt… informal. You’ve never spoken to him outside of the lines of education or questions about exams. This type of talk was far beyond your teacher-student boundaries, even if it can be considered as fleeting small talk.
This makes him laugh, and you feel your lips twitch at the melodic sound. You try not to smile any harder than you already are.
“Asking for lip service now, are we (Name)?” His playful tone of voice carried a much lighter cadence than the authoritative tone he held in the classroom. You tried not to notice that tattoo that was peeking through his sheer white dress shirt.
“No, Mingi.” You reply just as playfully, and you find yourself rubbing your lips together, grounding yourself with the feeling of the layer of lip gloss on your lips.
His eyes linger on your mouth for just a fraction of a second, hardly noticeable. They trail up the side of your face, and his gaze stops on your eyes. Something in his eyes changes, a kind of shift that makes your heart stop for a moment. His jaw flexes and fingers twitch as he moves to cross his own arms.
“That’s Mr. Song, or 'sir' to you, young lady.” His eyebrows set hard, and you feel your stomach drop at the sudden change in attitude. He looks down at you like you’re small, like you don’t deserve his respect. As much as you’d like to push it, he controls your grades and ultimately your future. And passing up on such a gratuitous opportunity with this job simply to act a little too familiar with your professor would be borderline idiotic.
His eyebrows raise, and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, urging your confirmation of his command. “Understand?”
You swallow and nod your head politely. “Yes, sir.” You quickly grab your glass again and down the rest of the water, taking a moment to gather yourself, because as depraved as it was. That entire interaction made you god-awful wet.
“We may not be in class, but I’m still your elder.” He turns around and walks past you, a trail of his cologne passing beneath your nose and fogging your brain. You have to crane your neck to watch the back of his head as he walks away, the sheer size of him dizzying.
“If you don’t mind me asking.” You force from your throat, keeping your eyes on the floor as you speak. “Was there any reason you chose me specifically?”
He snorts, endearingly so. “Do I need a reason?” Like it was a dumb question, even though there are no such things in his words. “I just decided to hire you. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Well, there were plenty of people who were just as capable, if not more so-“
He interrupts you with a whistle and a loud snap of his fingers. “What did I say?” He leans his head backward like he was annoyed, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he speaks under a low breath. “God, always so inquisitive.”
You stop from letting your mouth drop open in surprise. “If you have any implications swimming around that pretty brain of yours, forget it. You’re a capable girl, aren’t you?” He lowers his gaze to you, waiting expectantly for you to reply.
You nod and pick a piece of dust off your shirt. “Of course.” You reply in a small voice, but Mingi clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“Say it out loud. C’mon.” You take a small breath and sigh quietly.
“I am capable.”
Mingi smiles and turns away from you once more. “Beautiful. Save the rest of the questions after we set up your payroll.”
He finishes, and he raises his hand and brings up his middle and ring finger, motioning to you in a “come hither” motion, a movement so slow that it seemed dizzyingly suggestive.
“Come now, while we’re still young.” You force your feet to move and follow him further into the house, passing his daughter as she plays on her own world on the couch, completely oblivious to the strange tension that lingered between her father and her new babysitter.
Mingi was intense, authoritative. He knew how he wanted things to be and made sure everyone else stayed in their lane. And you had a weird lingering feeling that nothing good was to come out of stepping that home privacy boundary.
But hey, two thousand was two thousand. And maybe you were being greedy, but something much more than money was keeping you from using your fucking brain and getting out of dodge.
He was not good for you, and god he knew it. You both knew it. But if the heat you felt in your lower belly and the racing of your heart were anything to go by, the gut instinct that told you not to walk into the wolf’s den was for sure one that was meant to be ignored.
After a smooth process of connecting your bank account, printing you a house key, and an extensive tour of the home, he sent you home with a thank-you bonus of a few hundred dollars and your schedule for the following week. Monday through Friday, at 3 pm, you would arrive at the Song residence. You would see Mingi off for his night classes and tend to his daughter until he arrived home at 10 pm.
He never mentioned a wife, or any kind of spouse. You had assumed they had most likely divorced, you never saw any picture of a woman around the house, and his daughter never mentioned a mother.
You had considered asking him about it, but something inside of you said that would be overstepping a grand boundary that should not be touched.
While you had Mingi’s morning class, he would only be on campus for those two hours before returning home to spend the rest of his day with his daughter, before the evening whisked him away to work once again. So, of course, you would still see him in class.
And it is so much worse now.
And you couldn’t help but feel that he found the whole thing amusing.
Teaching the class like normal, writing down key points on the board, reading through articles and poems, and helping everyone pick the words apart. You never called him sir in class; it was always Mr. Song or Professor. He asked you to call him sir, no, demanded that you refer to him as such when you visited his home.
So with a slow raise of your hand, to ask a question that truly meant nothing. He paused his writing to look at you, and he moved back around to continue his writing once you had been acknowledged. “Yes, ma’am?” He asks, while he finishes the cursive curl of his letter y.
“You say that symbolism in poetry is entirely up to the reader’s perception, and that we can choose to decipher it any way we see fit. Is that maybe a little too loose in terms of freedom, considering some people might extend their reach of understanding too far to be deemed within the author’s original intentions?”
It was an innocent question, a good one, maybe perhaps a little random. Mingi turns away from the board, ending the sentence he wrote with a heavy period, a loud thunk against the whiteboard. The edges of the blue ink splatter around the punctuation.
“It's as I said,” he begins, eyebrows relaxed as he finds you easily at your desk, rolling your pencil eraser over your bottom lip, a curious glaze of intrigue shadowing your eyes. “While it is entirely up to the reader, most people are smart enough to gather what the poet is trying to convey. Readers can come up with similar conclusions, but maybe with different rounded edges. There will be similarities, but there can also be differences, all because we perceive everything differently as humans.” He quietly adjusts the knot of his tie, the veins in his hand flushing as he moves.
You find your eyes falling to watch his arm move, his biceps struggling under his sleeves. You smile and nod, bringing your pencil down to your chin and tapping it lightly. “Thank you, sir.”
Nobody else catches it; it was so subtle that it wouldn’t have mattered to anyone even if they did. But his hand froze around his necktie, and his fingers twitched. His nose scrunched only slightly, and a sharp, quiet inhale made your skin prickle.
He nods quietly and turns back to the board to continue teaching. “Always with the smart questions.” He murmurs under his breath, and you both clearly knew that the question was about much more than just poetry.
The first day went surprisingly smooth. You arrived at his home early, of course, using your new key to unlock the door and welcome yourself in. His daughter was the first to greet you, running to you and enveloping your legs in a tight hug, her little nails digging into your skin with how hard she held you.
You said hi, all warm smiles and soft tones, only raising your eyes when you feel another pair on you. Standing at the end of the hallway was Mingi, leaning against a doorframe with relaxed ease, his tie loosened and his hair astray. He leaned his head against the white frame, his eyes low as he paid no attention to anything but you. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, and all you could feel was pinned. Like he was holding your body down with just his gaze, and it makes your heart kick up.
Then he smirked, a ghost of one if anything. A knowing, small smile that would be easy to ignore if it simply wasn’t him. Before you could say or do anything else, the little girl, whose name you learned was Ami, was dragging you away from the foyer, spewing phrases about new toys and complimenting your punctuality.
Mingi watches you walk away with his daughter, clasping your hand tight, and your sweet little warm smile returns as you respond to her words with enthusiastic earnestness.
She leads you to the couch, grabs the remote, and asks you to switch on a movie for her.
“Can I borrow your new friend for a second, sweetheart?” Mingi appears behind the back of the couch, his sudden presence nearly startling you out of your skin. He looks down at his daughter with nothing short of pure love, his gaze soft and his tone low and sweet. Ami pouts dramatically and crosses her arms.
Mingi pouts in turn, giving her playful puppy eyes. Then you feel his fingers gently brush the nape of your neck, a slow, gentle caress that was so light it could have been mistaken for a breeze. But it was too warm, too calloused.
“Please?” he whines with a smile, and his daughter rolls her eyes, setting down the remote with a clatter.
“Okay, Daddy, but bring her back.” Her little voice warms your heart, happy that she's taking a great liking to you. You swallow as you feel his fingers slip away from your nape, and you're standing on wobbly legs to follow him as he begins to walk away.
“I promise I will,” he says, blowing her a little kiss, to which she returns with a bright smile. Mingi is leading you away from the living room, and you follow behind with a sort of muted apprehension, and it feels like you are in school again. Like you were being led away by your teacher to talk about poor behavior.
Once you’re back in the foyer, he turns to you, and his soft, parental smile has fallen into something unrecognizable.
He pulls a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and hands it to you. “This is your list of things that should be maintained and done while watching her. Keeping the place clean, making sure she eats well. Everything we’ve already discussed.” You take the list and give it a swift once-over, mentally noting the most important things.
You slip it into your own pocket, raising your head to look at him once more, and for just a split second, you swear you caught his gaze lingering on your neck. “If you have any questions, my number is also on that piece of paper. Do not call me, but you can message me.”
You nod silently, and he sighs. “Can we work on your verbal confirmation? Use your words, please.” You can’t help the almost sour look that flashes across your face, and you quickly gather yourself before exaggeratedly dropping into a flashy curtsy.
“Yes, boss, I understand.” You say in a dramatic prim accent, but before you could stand back up straight, you feel his warm, large hand slip beneath your chin, gripping your lower jaw firmly.
He’s lifting you back up, leaning his head down so close that you feel his breath on your neck, his nose just shy of brushing against your ear. Your breath catches, and his sweet scent clouds your senses, and you could feel your knees start to buckle beneath you. Mingi’s hand keeps its firm hold on your chin as he lowers his voice to a heavy, throaty whisper that makes the skin on your temple tingle.
“Try again, and lose the attitude, gorgeous. You know better.” His breath fans over your ear, and you could physically feel the skin of the back of your neck flare warmly. He squeezes the pads of his fingers against the soft flesh of your cheek a little harder, and the heat blooms across your lower jaw at his tense hold, and you nearly melt into his hand. Your own voice drops to a nervous, shaky whisper, and you exhale slowly out of your nose. It was so quiet you could hear the wristwatch on his hand ticking by your ear.
“Yes… Sir.” You correct yourself quietly, and his hand still doesn’t move. Instead, his thumb gently runs over your cheek, a repeated soothing path like he’s trying to lull you to sleep with his caresses. He leans away from your ear, coming face to face with you once more, his nose mere inches from brushing with yours. So close you can see every strand of silver in his hair, every wrinkle at the corners of his eyes, every freckle, and the remaining five o'clock shadow from where he shaved earlier that morning. He smelled of faded cologne and wintergreen mints, and you could hardly stop your eyelids from fluttering.
His thumb moves over your bottom lip, gently pressing down on it like he was admiring how soft you were, taking a mental note of how easy you melt under him. How all he needed to do to get you to act right was to pet you like you were some kind of puppy.
It felt like an eternal standstill by the time he slipped his hand away from your face, and you could still feel the heat of it across your face. It felt so wrong. And god did you want to feel it again.
He turns and fixes his loose tie, slipping his blazer on and adjusting his watch. He walks away, leaving you standing like a dumb fawn, grinning as he opens the front door, his keys jingling in his hand. “Do behave yourself, while rewards and punishments are not handed out in class, my home is an entirely different story.”
And with that final note, the door shuts behind him with a click, and you are left in Mingi’s foyer with your heart in your throat and warmth in your stomach, and your entire body thrumming with what can only be described as anticipation.
-
You and Ami got along well, playing with toys and watching television. There was a small spat when you tried to get her to eat her veggies, but after some bribery with a promise of a packet of gummies, she offered up no more fight.
Putting her to bed was no easy feat either, her only surrendering at the promise of a bedtime story. You sent her off to go pick a book, and she came into her bedroom, trotting proudly with the first installment of the Narnia series.
When you dared to question her lengthy decision, she responded with, “Daddy has been reading this to me every night, we’re on chapter 6, he said you could continue reading it to me.”
You quietly roll your eyes, mumbling to yourself as she begins to tuck herself into bed. “Did he now?”
You didn’t complain, and you did find yourself easing into the storytelling, reading with a soft, slow tone to help lull her off to sleep, which didn’t take long, especially after a long day of play.
When her breathing evened, and her head went lazy on her neck, you switched off her lamp and set her stuffed zebra next to her arms and left her room, making sure her rainbow night light in the outlet was on.
You shut her door with a quiet click and sighed to yourself. First night done, now all that was left to do was wait for Mingi to arrive home. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to check the time.
9:03
He was sure to be home anytime soon, so you decided to take the book you were reading with you downstairs. It had pulled you in enough just by that one chapter alone, and you found yourself wanting to read it from the beginning.
Your bare feet padded against the tile floors of the kitchen, the house asleep and silent as you picked a small mandarin out of the fridge. You sat at the kitchen island, gently peeling the citrus fruit as you held the book open with one hand, and began to read.
You found your fingers nimbly peeling the white veins of the orange and dropping them onto the napkin. Engrossed in the book, you slipped slice after slice of mandarin past your lips as you continued to read.
The quiet of his home was so different in comparison to your own. Tucked further towards the countryside, absent from the honking of horns and the screeches of tires. Just the tranquil sound of whistling trees and the occasional creak of the house settling. It was nice, something you could see yourself getting used to.
You weren’t sure how long you had been reading for, and it wasn’t until you heard the front door shut that you were ripped from your own little world. You hadn’t even noticed the jingle of keys in the lock. Your orange was long gone; only the shredded peel remained as he walked past the foyer, straight into the kitchen to see you.
He paused for a moment, taking in your peaceful little moment, then smiling to himself as he began to shed his coat and drape it over the kitchen table chair. “You look comfy.” He murmurs, loosening his tie.
You swallow a dry patch in your throat, the whole moment reeking of something inappropriately domestic. The low, warm lighting of the overhead oven light. Mingi quietly gets unready after a long day of work, your eyes catching on the way his muscles flex with every movement he makes.
Unclipping his watch and dropping it into the small wooden bowl on the edge of the counter, uncuffing his dress shirt and rolling his sleeves up once again, the hints of a tattoo you’ve never had the pleasure of fully seeing peeking underneath the white linen.
Running a large hand through his silver streaked hair, the strands falling around his face in an organized mess as he sighs, a deep and heavy sound that makes your thighs clench underneath the island.
You close the book absentmindedly, dropping your gaze to the counter just as he raises his eyes to look at you, and you clear your throat as you move to stand.
“I see you’re reading Narnia. Ami asked you to read it to her?” His voice was so quiet, so lofty, it made your brain fizz.
You nod. “She ate dinner well, told me she had fun playing with me today. She asked me to read to her, and she was out like a light by the fourth page. It intrigued me, so I decided to give it a gander.”
You raise your head again, gathering your orange peels in your hand and crossing over to the trash can in the corner. Once dropped in the waste, you turned to hand the book back to him. Your arm outstretched, to which he only stood and stared back at you, his eyes dropping over your body in a less than subtle once over.
He finally reaches out and takes the book from you, not without letting his long fingers brush against your knuckles. His two middle fingers slip between the pages, bookmarking the place that you had stopped at. You swallow as he puppy dog ears the page with one hand, before closing the book and setting it on the island.
The muted glow of the oven light shadowed his face in a soft yellow, the rest of him swallowed in the darkness of the home. He was so tall, his body big enough to stand in front of you and effectively block you from being seen by anyone.
“Well, I should be going.” You mutter, nervously wrinkling the corner of your shirt over and over again. “Thank you again.” You nod your head respectfully, and yet neither one of you makes any move.
Mingi doesn’t move; instead, he lifts his head, lowering his eyes to a half-lidded kind of gaze that makes you feel like you were being preyed on. He sees the tension in your shoulders, the unevenness of your breath, the uncertainty in your eyes, the curiosity in the way your fingers twitch at your side.
The unconscious way your tongue wets your bottom lip, the little vein in your neck that only he could notice.
Then he’s stepping forward, slowly, just enough to have you closer. Smell you, smell him. Not too inappropriate, but maybe not professional.
“I should be thanking you, darling.” His hand reaches out, oh so slowly, just enough to give you time to back away if you want. You don’t. His index finger finds a curl at the front of your head, gently twirling it around the tip of his finger, his eyes on yours.
A gaze so warm, so mistakenly hungry, you swore you were hallucinating. He watched you visibly melt, your lip forming into a parted pout, a beckon. A silent ask.
His finger moves away from the curl of your hair, dances along the side of your neck, brushes down with featherlight gentleness against the side of your throat, a tickling sensation that has your body shivering.
His eyebrows knotted together like he was conflicted, like he was battling an inner ache, one that he was holding himself back from showing.
You couldn’t take it. You simply couldn’t.
Your brain hadn’t caught up to your body, but before you could second-guess yourself, your hands shot out and gripped the collar of his dress shirt, dragging his head down and crashing your lips into his.
No words, no gasp, just a wanton moan that slips past your lips and against his.
Mingi growls from the back of his throat, a sound of sheer surprise, nearly losing his footing underneath him. He rips his head back, his eyes wide and his breathing coming labored.
You freeze, your hands holding nothing but air as he pulls himself away from you. Your heart dropped to your stomach. A look of pure fear on your face as you realized he didn’t reciprocate.
Fuck. Fuck.
A conflicted look flashes across your professor’s face, and he looked like he was about to give you what for. You screwed up.
You immediately open your mouth, ready to spew pathetic attempts at apologies and pleas for forgiveness. But he beats you to it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” His gravely voice comes out strained and low, and a painful silence begins to stretch between you two.
Then, he bites his inner cheek, his hand lifts and slips his glasses off his face, all but letting them fall onto the counter, groaning low and sonorous, and he’s on you before you could breathe.
His hands slip around and grip either side of your waist, a tight, possessive hold as he slots his lips with yours, melting against your mouth like you tasted like a heaven he’d never get into.
His hands roam up and down your waist, his mouth opening and closing against yours, sliding his tongue over yours, and running it over your teeth. Moaning, sighing into your mouth, his eyebrows knit together in nothing short of pure bliss.
Your hands find his shoulders, your neck beginning to hurt from having to crane your head up to kiss him. All heat behind your tongues, warmth and wetness against each other as you feel a thin trail of drool slipping down the corner of your mouth.
Then he’s lifting you, picking you up off the ground, and dropping you on your ass on the kitchen island. Merely eye level with him, he kisses you deeper, shoving his tongue further down your throat, tilting his head to the side to completely devour you.
Your hands drag down the front of him, your palms flat against his chest, whimpering against his lips in tandem with his starved movements. A quiet “baby” is murmured around your tongue, and your entire body erupts into consuming flames.
His hands slip down and find either of your thighs, spreading them pretty and wide as he slots his lower body between them, pushing his body closer to your between your legs.
His hand moves back up and cups the back of your head, the other trailing up the front of your body and finding a grounding home at the base of your neck, pulling your head further into him as he takes like the greedy man he was.
Kissing the college girl on the counter as she tasted like bourbon, squeezing your flesh like it was keeping him sane, melting at the soft, needy moans that flowed down his throat from your reactions to his touch.
It was a breathless, taboo kind of lust that only people sick in the head can get a kick out of. And if this makes Mingi a sick man, then so fucking be it. He finds himself lost in the sweetness of your lips, the arch in your back. His hand trails down the side of your waist, warm and big as he finds the flesh of your thigh again, squeezing and pressing the softness, moaning at how smooth your skin feels in comparison to his rough hands.
His hand slips up the leg of your shorts, and warmth blooms on your skin, your body shivers as you lean further into him, your kisses turning needy, dangerously feral.
It’s your whiny, low moan that nearly undoes him. And the way your hands slide up to help further loosen his tie. But while he may not be a good man, he’s not a bad one either. With a type of restraint only a soldier could have, Mingi pulls away from your shiny, swollen lips, a thin trail of saliva between you both snapping silently.
Your heavy breaths mingle together, and he rests his forehead against yours, the hand on your neck slowly sliding away, and his other hand moving from your bare thigh to firmly place them flat on either side of your spread thighs, loosely caging your body against the island.
You say nothing, only fighting to catch your breath as your dizzy brain struggles to catch up. He looks down at the floor, the bulge in his pants loud and proud and fucking painful.
With a deep sigh, he turns away, wiping his mouth with the palm of his hand as he mutters a deep “fuck” beneath his breath.
You slowly crawl off the counter, realizing that you need to go. Now.
“I-I’ll see you tomorrow, Min- uh... Professor Song. Sir-“You stutter over your words, a foggy layer of need clouding your mind after having been kissed like he was trying to eat you alive.
Mingi seethes, inhaling sharply as he raises a hand to get you to keep quiet.
“Stop- goddamnit. Sweetheart, don’t call me ‘sir’ right now unless- unless you want me to fuck you against that wall.” You swallow, and it takes everything in your power not to get on your knees and beg for just that.
He could practically smell your hesitation, and it nearly made his entire body erupt into a muted shiver. You nibble on your bottom lip, he could see the way you nervously shake, and you open your mouth to respond, but he just knew what you were going to say, and he did not need to hear it right now.
“Oh, babygirl, you shouldn’t want that.” He ignores your pretty little glazed-over eyes and your frizzy hair that he messed up with his own two hands.
The addicting way you held onto him with your smaller hands, arching your back into him and keening into his touch, crying out as it hurt for every second he let you breathe.
“And neither should I.” He mumbles like he was trying to convince himself too.
Mingi massages his upper jaw, exhaling heavily out of his nose before he turns away from you again, truly believing that if he looked at you one more time, he wouldn’t be able to compose himself. Forty-something years old, and one of his students is making him feel things he hasn’t felt since high school.
“Go home.” He commands, his bassy, breathless voice sending a shockwave straight between your legs. When you don’t immediately move, Mingi clenches his jaw and slightly turns his neck, giving you a glimpse of the turmoil on his face.
“Now.” He bites out, and before you could form another thought, your body was moving.
You grab your things off the living room coffee table and slip out of the house, speeding off to your car and pulling off into the cricket-filled night, confused, turned on, and conflicted.
It was only the first day, and the walls were already crumbling.
-
The following week was torture. Dragging yourself out of bed after being kept up all night with ludicrous dreams, dreams of what could’ve happened if you two didn’t stop. Panties sticky and eyes heavy, you crawl out of bed and dread having to face him every day.
It went the same every day; you arrived, maybe a little later than usual. You avoided every look he shot your way, and you never asked any questions. Just listened and took notes, silently. And when it was time to watch his daughter, he’d be out the front door by the time your car pulled into the driveway, walking past you in silence as you effectively traded places.
You both knew it was for your own good, to keep whatever had been brewing between you two at bay, even if it was never explicitly stated. You had hardly said a word to your professor since that first day. But your eyes said everything.
His, too, god if you both couldn’t be subtle. He’d sit at his desk, watching you click away at your laptop, your leg bouncing beneath the table as you nibbled on your nail. He imagined things about you, things that made him have to adjust his pants before he stood to continue teaching.
And when he arrived home early? Fuck it was even worse. He’d quietly sneak in the front door and catch you and Ami on the couch, her head lying on her lap with her blanket tight in her grasp.
You read to her in a soothing, quiet voice, and gently, your hand stroked the top of her head, playfully brushing your fingers over her face like you were trying to convince her to close her eyes, all with a beautiful smile on your face.
Your pretty pout, your mothering voice, your frizzy hair, and your soft body. God, it makes him so hard it hurts. That night, he announced himself and offered to take Ami off to bed himself, and by the time he made it downstairs, you were already in your car and pulling out of the driveway. It was better this way anyway, Mingi would tell himself. But better for whom? And for what?
Why was this so wrong?
His morale was beginning to chip away, and with each passing hour, each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to keep his hands off of you. And he could tell you felt the same. Your lingering looks and the way your thighs would clench when your gazes met in the lecture room.
Saturday night. You did not go to class that day; therefore, you did not see him. But you would have to later. He always travels to campus on Saturday night to get any extra work done. A workaholic, you called him once. And it was true.
So when you arrived at his front door once again, you tried with every bone in your body to act normal. Unlocking the entrance, you walked inside the now familiar home and stopped in your tracks when you noticed him. Standing in the hallway entrance, like he was waiting for you.
His eyes are low, and his body seems tense. Wearing a form-fitting black dress shirt today, the top two buttons undone. Something more casual for the weekend. A small silver necklace with a dog tag pendant disappeared beneath the collar, and you could see the print of the tag through his shirt. His hair was messier, and his glasses were clasped loosely in his hand.
You breathe quietly, then he's walking towards you. Just as you think he’s going to stop, he walks right past you and reaches for his watch in the little brown bowl. “Ami is down for a nap; if she’s not up by five, go ahead and rouse her.”
He slips on the timepiece, then slides his glasses onto his face, letting them sit low on the bridge of his nose. You nod in acknowledgment, and he's already made his way to the front door, his car keys jingling on his fingers.
Just as you think he’s going to leave, he pauses, his hand hovering above the knob.
“And keep your hands out of my liquor cabinet, young lady.” Now that makes your heart stop. You may have indulged one night after you put Ami to bed, just a couple shots, nothing too concerning. But he had noticed, of course, he had.
When you don't reply, he turns back to you and raises his eyebrows in a scrutinizing question. “Next time, have enough manners to ask. That stuff is not cheap, sweetheart.” The pet name had a bite to it, and you can’t help but want to bite back.
He turns, opens the door, and takes one step outside.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll ask politely next time.” You speak the words with a ghost of a moan enveloping them, and you could see the way his shoulders tense and his hands squeeze the doorknob harder.
Mingi inhales sharply and keeps his head forward. The silence stretches so long and thin you think time might have frozen. And when he speaks next, it sends electricity through your blood, and you can't deny the way you feel your skin tingle.
He laughs, a slow, soft chuckle. “Keep that shit up, (Name),” he challenges, adjusting the straps of his watch in one swift movement. “I can be a bad man if you need me to.” Then the door is shutting behind him, a loud click that rivals the pounding of your heart in your ears.
The house is silent once again, and you are left alone with your racing thoughts and a really, really stupid fantasy in your mind that makes you feel like the nastiest bitch on earth.
-
The bottoms of your feet felt like they were burning, and the floors of his house were frigid. The heat of your body rivaled the still quiet of the house, Ami put to bed, leaving you as the only soul awake inside.
Mingi would be home any minute. And it was at this moment that you needed to make a decision. You weren’t sure what you were going to do, or rather, you weren’t sure what he was going to do.
Or what he wanted to do.
You felt trapped in a home with no lock, like there was no escape. The windows were unbreakable, and the walls were too thick. You were a trapped animal who did not want to leave in the first place.
You could argue that you were a dumb, naive little girl who didn’t know her way in the world, who couldn’t pick up on the signs that her professor wanted to fold her in half and show her what it felt like to be ruined by a real man.
You’d be such a liar, because that’s the one thing that you wanted. You were stupid for wanting this. And Mingi wholeheartedly believed that.
He believed that your wanting him was complete ignorance of consequences, turning a blind eye to plenty of boys who were perfect for a sweet girl such as yourself.
Choosing a man, one that would not care how much you cried those pretty tears, a man that would fuck you until you weren’t able to tell where you ended and he began.
And it was taking everything in his power as he climbed into his car after work that night to not drive himself off the bridge as he drove. Because that would be the sole and only way to stop himself from pouncing on you as soon as he stepped through the front door.
You lie on his bed. In his room. Invading his space without a care in the world as you took in his abode. Neat, clean-smelling, suffocating. Being in there felt like you couldn’t move a muscle without the walls closing in on you.
He strictly told you his room was off limits, that you had no business in there. He would come home, and he would find you in there, the doe on the wrong edge of the forest. And he would hunt you then and there, because you stepped into his territory, and the rules were painted in red on his sheets.
When Mingi first stepped foot into the house that night, he was surprised to find you missing from your usual place at the kitchen island. Reading a book, having a snack. Waiting for him so politely.
You weren’t in the living room, you weren’t in Ami’s room. The guest room, either. Were you hiding from him? He sighed and set his briefcase on the kitchen table, loosening his tie with a groan and setting his watch in the wooden bowl.
You could hear him from upstairs, the familiar sounds of him getting unready. You shifted in his sheets and sat up straight, straining your ears to listen for him.
Footsteps, the clack of the metal plates beneath his shoes, resonated throughout the house like gunfire. The sounds of them ascending the stairs, before the silence of his footfalls as he hit the carpet. He was upstairs.
Immediately, you began to second-guess your decision to be in here. Your choice to take this job. Hell, your choice to take his class to begin with. It was all too risky, too grey.
Silence again, and you could only feel your heart beating in your ears.
“I sure hope you’re not in there, doll.” His voice was so much closer that you could see his shadow through the crack beneath the door. His voice penetrated the walls of his room like a dark kind of fire, and it rattled your bones.
He could hear you. Hear you shift your weight on his sheets after he addressed you. He could hear you stand, hear you walk to the door, and stop in front of it like you were scared to walk any further.
“You’re not supposed to be in my room, you know better.” His tone was tinged with a disappointed, disciplinary note. Mingi teases you by lightly shaking the doorknob, and you nearly jump out of your skin. Why were you so nervous? You had no idea.
You know better. One of his favorite things to say to you. It was true after all. You do know better, but it doesn’t mean you acted like it.
Mingi wouldn’t admit it. Not to you, not to himself either. But he was having so much fun with you. You awakened this dangerous excitement in him that made him want to make all the wrong choices.
He wanted to bend you over his knee and punish you for affecting him the way you did. He wanted to bury his fingers deep in your hair and pull like he was trying to steer you about at his discretion while he worked you inside and out.
Mingi wanted to lay your body out and make you cum so many times you’d have to drop out of his class because every time you laid eyes on him, you would still feel him in your belly.
You made him feel alive, and at his age, that was a dangerous thing.
When you didn’t respond to him, he lowered his voice to a small, gentle coax, like he was trying to convince you he was no threat. “Listen, sweetheart, you’re not in trouble.” It was like he was using his dad voice on you, and you hated that it made you freeze and your heart flutter.
“I just want to talk to you. So are you going to come out of my room? Or am I going to have to come get you myself?”
Your hand hovered over the knob, and just as you dropped it to twist it open, you stopped. Your brain reeled in your skull, and you backed away from the door with small, quiet steps.
When Mingi realized you wouldn’t be opening the door, he couldn’t help but smile. So typical of someone so young and fresh-blooded like you.
You wanted to be found, you wanted to be desired, you wanted to be chased. You wanted Mingi to open that door and make you regret your decision not to listen to him.
You didn’t use your manners and ask with your big girl words, but don’t worry, he’d come in there and set you straight.
Just as you were starting to second-guess yourself, the knob twists, and the door makes no sound. No creak, no squeal on the hinges. Just a silent, slow invitation. The warm light of the stairwell flooded the floor of the dark bedroom, like a spill of orange oil. He stepped in, reached back, and shut the door closed once more with a muted click, and darkness shrouded the room again.
The silence stretched as he stalked towards you; with every step he took, you took one back.
With every step he removed something. His shoes came first, then he reached up and slipped his glasses off his nose, setting them on the dresser he passed by.
His tie was next, his big veiny hands untying it gracefully and wrapping it around the palm of his hand like a leash, teasingly, before he let it hit the floor.
One by one until you were backed against the wall by his headboard. His smell surrounded you like mustard gas, his body shadowed over you like a monster, and his eyes pierced through the dark like a hunter. You barely contained your trembling once he was close enough to touch, close enough to melt into.
His big, rough hands find your wrists, gently gripping them and sliding his palms up your inner arms, over your shoulders, to the back of your neck. He cupped your nape like he was trying to cradle your head from injury, so gentle and so loving.
He squeezed softly, stepping further into you, pressing his body against yours, molding your front with his. His head craned down, and he maneuvered your neck to train your eyes on him. In the dark, everything felt more intense. His touch on your neck burned, the way his thumbs stroked along the edges of your jaw, and his blunt fingernails scraped against your nape.
He inhaled deeply, like he was trying to calm himself.
“Asking for permission really isn’t your style is it?” He spits out the words like a reprimand, and he could feel you shiver under his touch when he said it. You had tears in your eyes, you looked like you had just dropped your lollipop, and you wanted to cry. You were so pretty.
You felt him everywhere, in your ribcage and in your head; he smelled so good. The silver in his hair glimmered from the lamp in the far corner. You heard a roll of thunder in the distance that sounded like Mingi’s moans. The onpour of rain that hit the roof like a broken television.
He looked so beautiful in the dark.
“We can fix that.”
While one hand remained on your neck, the other slid away, along your jaw, up the front of your throat, until you felt his fingers prod against your pouted lips. You opened with zero hesitation, and he slid his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, laying them flat on your tongue.
Oh, so slowly, he glides his fingers in and out of your pretty little mouth, pushing just far enough against the back of your tongue to make the tears in your eyes finally fall. “Such a nasty, pretty baby.” His eyes fell like he was entranced by you, your compliance, and the way you shook like a deer. His eyebrows knit together like he was trying to memorize you, everything about you.
He presses his fingers up, and your canines gently sink into the flesh, and it makes his skin tingle. Back down across your tongue, breaching the back of your mouth, gagging around him with a sad little choke.
He slips his fingers out of your mouth, and you hardly notice the saliva that connected to him, with how you could not pull your eyes away from his face. With a patience that drives you both mad, he trails his hand down the front of your body, over the swell of your breasts beneath your shirt, down to the waistband of your shorts.
He presses his hand at the back of your neck harder, forcing your forehead to collide with his. Nowhere to run as he slips his hand into your shorts.
“You wanna be nasty?” he whispers against your lips, and you catch yourself nodding. You didn’t even mean to, but he finds it so amusing.
Your entire body jerks when you feel his wet fingertips slide beneath your panties and brush over your lips, lifting the slightest bit, finding your clit with such quick ease you could hardly believe it.
Your hands shoot up and fist the front of his shirt, and your eyelids widen then flutter as he presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves, a gentle press and prod as he circles against your clit with teasing intent.
When Mingi watched you practically melt at the simplest of his touches, he felt the confessions start to rear at the backs of his teeth. The urge to tell you everything you may or may not want to hear.
His breath ghosts over your parted lips, his fingers making mind-numbing work of your clit, rotating movement and pressurized strokes that made your thighs shake around his wrist. With a deep breath, he pressed his lips to yours, slipping his thick tongue into your mouth and groaning down your throat.
His fingers claw at the back of your neck, tracing intimate patterns into your mouth, as his fingers dance away from your clit, and gently he prods at your dripping entrance. He coats his fingers in your arousal, and he presses his thigh between your legs to spread you further for him.
“You’re such a pretty little thing.” He whispers into your mouth, and you gasp against him when he slowly fills your soaked cunt with one thick finger, and you feel your eyes roll when he presses so deep and curls up just right. He circles the pad of his finger against that spongy spot, and he purrs into your mouth when your hands on his shirt tighten even more.
“I drive myself crazy thinking about you at night.” Slow, deep come-hither motions inside of you that had your breath coming in broken shudders. “I’d think about kissing you silly, holding you down, playing with you, having that smart mouth of yours moaning for me instead of giving me lip.”
You shiver as he slips a second finger inside of you, a slight stretch that had your knees buckling, but he kept you up by the back of your neck, fully pushing his body against yours and holding you still against his bedroom wall. You moan whiny and pathetic as he slips his thumb up and gently circles it against your clit, all the while his fingers keep curling nice and deep inside you.
“Would you like that?” He murmurs, pulling away from your lips and gently kissing below your ear, breathing lowly against the side of your neck. Your skin shivers as his voice brushes over your ear, and you can hardly control the way your body responds to him so effortlessly, like he has an invisible leash on you.
You nod, muttering out a pathetic ‘yes.’ Mingi pressed the tip of his nose against your neck and pressed his lips against your skin so you could feel them move when he talked. “Words, sweet girl. Haven’t I already told you this?”
It was hard to form words while he was fingerfucking you so well, so deep it was making your stomach cave in, but the need for more outweighed everything else. “Y-yes, sir.” You whimpered, and you felt your chest flutter when he groaned lowly against your ear, a guttural, primal sound that had you clenching around his fingers.
He leans away from your neck with a fleeting kiss, moving his hand from the back of your neck around to the front. Squeezing at the base of your throat, his fingers pressing on those sensitive, soft spots on the side that started making your eyes darken at the corners. His fingers pressed harder, deeper, coaxing inside of you with purpose that was making you go insane with bliss.
Your hands frantically grasped at anything you could, his wrist, his shirt, his belt, anything you could to ground yourself as he pushed you towards that orgasm. He held your throat nice and tight, and you were choking on moans as he fucked you with his thick fingers, and he breathed heavily against your lips. The grip on your neck kept your head in place for him, and as your eyes began to roll to the back of your head, he pressed against those soft spots a little harder.
“Eyes, darling, eyes,” he commands in a breathless moan, and you tear your eyes from the back of your head to look at him, and it nearly undoes you. His fingers are relentlessly curling deep in your pussy, his big warm hand squeezing your throat just tight enough to make your body feel all fuzzy. His dark, begging eyes make your stomach clench, his guiding, baritone voice making your whimpers slip out involuntarily.
“You wanna cum?” He whines against your lips, just lightly loosening his grip on your neck to allow you to respond. “Ask me nicely.”
“Yes, fuck- please…” You moan hoarsely, and Mingi takes his bottom lip between his teeth.
“So you do have manners.” He teases, his thumb brushing upwards against your clit as the grip on your throat tightens once more. “Cum then, baby. Let it go, make a mess for me.” The corners of your vision bleed into something dark, and he lowers his mouth to take your lips with his again, moaning softly into your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Come on, come on….” he barely whispers into the kiss, and you cannot deny him even if you tried. His fingers never cease, only slowing as he does his very best to prolong your orgasm like some kind of torture method. His fingers curl and prod, rolling inside of you as your orgasm rocks your body, a feeling so intense you feel like you are shattering from the inside out.
“Thats it, that's it. Don’t stop.” He keeps kissing you, fucking your cunt with his fingers, squeezing your throat just hard enough you feel like you might have been on the brink of passing out.
Mingi rides you through it, the restraint in his movements starting to slip away the more he sees of you. His hand on your throat moves away and slips beneath your shirt, up and over your smooth stomach, around to the warm skin of your waist. Up until his hand slips beneath your bra and cups the swell of your breast. So soft beneath his calloused palms, he finds that he can’t stop his fingers inside of you, massaging your chest and continuing to fingerfuck you through the overstimulation.
“Wait-” you whine out, interrupted by your own moans. Mingi reaches behind your back and finds the clasp of your bra with more surprising ease. It falls loose beneath your shirt, and he maneuvers your shirt over your head. He catches your surprise, and it only makes his cock twitch at your sweet expression.
“I’m a grown man, (Name).” He speaks against your cheek, slipping the straps of your bra down your arms until it falls onto his floor. “None of this is new to me, baby.” Finally, he slips his fingers out of your cunt, and the slick sound it made was embarrassing. He gives you no time to quell on it as he slides his fingers into his mouth and cleans your mess off him with a hungry moan.
His other hand makes quick work of the buttons of his shirt. One by one, unclipping the silver buttons until it's completely open. As he reaches for his belt, the clank of the metal makes your thighs clench. He cocks his head to the side, running his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Lie down,” he instructs, as he undoes his belt. The dark of the room shrouds his face, and a loud rumble of thunder rolls, much closer this time. You can hardly move at first, your eyes trailing down his body. Toned, the grey and black happy trail that disappears beneath the waistband of his pants is tantalizing.
You swallow and slowly sit on the edge of the bed, but Mingi doesn’t give you the chance to lie back on your own. Once he loosens his belt, he’s leaning over you and caging you in. His hands find your waist as he inches you further up the bed and pushes you onto your back. You stare at the dog tag on his necklace that swings back and forth as he sets you up how he wants.
His thighs, thick and strong, cage either side of your legs as he leans down, his hands massaging up your sides like he was trying to soothe you to sleep. He kisses between the valley of your breasts, down your chest, and along your stomach, all the while his hands make their way further down to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you with his fingers slipping beneath them as he worships your body.
“So soft.” He mumbles between kisses as he slips your shorts down your legs and off onto his floor. “So pretty, so sweet.”
When his fingers hook on your panties, he moans and nibbles on the flesh of your stomach, and your entire body tenses as he slips off the final piece of clothing.
Down your legs, off your feet, and onto the floor. He’s quick to sink to his knees at the edge of the bed, hooking his big, strong arms around your lower waist and pulling you to the edge of the bed, just enough to where your ass nearly hangs off.
He signals you with his hands, making a grabbing motion. You watch and slowly give your hands to him, and he laces his fingers with yours and holds your hands down against your abdomen.
Your thighs hang over his broad shoulders, his face inches away from your dripping cunt, and Mingi’s eyes bore into yours as he places a soft, gentle kiss against your mound.
You whimper in anticipation, and his hands squeeze yours harder, your limbs twitching at his pinning gaze.
“You want my mouth, honey?” He teases, blowing a stream of cold air against you, your thighs twitching around his head.
“Fuck… please?” You beg lowly, and he gently lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, splitting your lips with a low laugh. When you jerk at the feel of his warm tongue, he tugs your hands harder against your stomach and trails his tongue up to circle your clit.
“Stop squirming, and take it for me.” He opens his mouth and takes your sensitive nub into his mouth, running his tongue over it and sucking it like he’s been deprived for months. Which technically wasn’t a lie. He had dreams of your taste, dreamed of the reactions he could drag out of you with his mouth.
Your moans come out high-pitched and cracked, his warm mouth working your poor pussy out like his favorite meal. Obscene, sloppy noises as he fucks you open with his mouth. Detaching from your clit and burying himself between your thighs even further. His nose nudges the nerves while his tongue slips inside of you. Tasting you, drinking you, making you cry like a baby while he ruins you.
“F-fuck… too much-!” You were so sensitive after his fingers fucking you stupid just mere minutes before, and now his thick tongue is filling you like no other, his pretty big nose pressing up against your clit so perfectly it was insane.
He lets go of your hands, just to take both your wrists in one hand while the other flattens against your stomach, trailing down along your inner thigh, before gently sliding between your slick pussy lips.
“Fuck, you taste incredible, such a wet mess.” He wraps his lips around your clit and slides his coated fingers inside of you once again, and your voice shatters when she curls them perfectly. The stimulation of his mouth and the feel of his fingers pressing and kneading, your wrists twist and turn in his grasp, but he makes no move to let you go. He only squeezes tighter. He groans around your clit, and your mouth falls open as the vibrations of his voice send sparks flying in your brain.
Moaning like he could feel it himself, slow, coaxing motions of his fingers against your walls that had your eyes rolling, the tip of his tongue circling your clit just enough to have you tethering that edge.
“Good girl… good girl…” he coos, his voice muffled as he focuses on getting you to cum again. “Feel me, focus on me, pretty baby. God…”
He was getting off on your frantic movements, your endless amounts of arousal that seemed to gush from you. The way you clenched around his fingers when his voice vibrated around your clit.
“You’re right there.” He encourages, shaking his head back and forth against your cunt, your arousal slipping down his chin and coating his lips, the wet slurping sounds so nasty and vile.
“Keep working for me, you're so close.” Mingi talks you through it, pulling away from your clit and littering wet kisses against your tummy. “Rock your hips, tell me what feels good, let me hear you.”
You choke out a broken cry, and he’s tempted to let up just so you can quiet down, but he’s addicted to you, and he couldn’t stop even if he tried.
“U-up..” you stutter out, and he wastes no time. Gently, he moves his fingers inside of you, nudging them upwards a little more. He feels it, your body tense and your cunt clench, and you let out a low groan.
“There… right there…” You exhale, and he presses up against that spot, circling the tip of his fingers against it repeatedly, instead of thrusting them. A constant, mind-numbing pressure that feels so good it hurts.
“Yeah, there we go.” He grits out, bringing his tongue down and flicking it up against your clit in soft kitten licks, a slow light, warm pressure that makes your hips jerk to chase it more.
You try to cry out, beg for more, but the harder his fingers pressed, the less you could remember English. Your breaths were whiny, and your voice kept cracking, and you were so close to cumming again.
“I'm going to count you down, darling.” His low voice pulls a low wail from your chest, and you try to move your hands to grab his head to push him further against you, just to remember he had you restrained.
“You can cum your brains out when I get to one, okay? Can you do that for me?”
You nod your head frantically, your hips bucking against his tongue that oh so gently teases your clit. Mingi smiles and nibbles your sensitive nerves playfully, and then he starts to increase the pressure of his fingertips against your G-spot.
“10.” You cry out when he runs his tongue along your inner thigh, up and down, a teasing motion against the sensitive skin that makes your entire body flare with heat. “9… 8… 7…”
With every number he bites you. Sinking his teeth into your thigh, your stomach, your clit, anything his mouth could reach between your legs. And all the while, his fingers never stop curling.
“6… 5… uh uh. C’mon, baby, get a hold of yourself, not yet.” He feels you clench hard, your moans getting breathy. He knows you’re so close, he can hear it in your tears. But he gave you a command, and he expects you to follow it.
“You can do it… 4.” He wraps his lips around your clit one more time, and this time he lets out long, drawn-out groans that come from deep in his chest, the quiver of his voice stimulating your clit so perfectly you thought you wouldn’t make it.
“3…2… c'mon baby, make it good. Cum yourself stupid for me, okay? For me… please?”
God, when he whines. It hurts your head. You force yourself to breathe, the knot in your stomach tighter than ever. He lets go of your wrists, and immediately, your hands fly and bury themselves in his soft hair. His now free hand snakes underneath your thigh and hikes it further up his shoulder, prying you open as your legs begin to close around his skull.
His tough fingers sink into the soft flesh, and he drags his tongue over your clit in repeated, pressured waves.
“1… go ahead, baby, cum for me. Don’t hold back, give it to me. Let me have you.” You shatter, instantaneously. It hurt, it felt amazing. Your entire body locks up, his hand on your thigh, squeezing so hard it was sure to bruise, his fingers coax and prod, dragging you through it.
He moans around your clit, and you feel like you’ve been shocked with volts of electricity. Your fingers grip his hair at his scalp, the intensity of your orgasm nearly knocking you out.
He laps at your pussy, drinking up the slick that spills from you, and you find yourself limp beneath him, regaining your breath as he cleans you up greedily during the aftershocks. Purely for his own enjoyment, it seems. He could watch you do that all day. He finds himself wondering if you’ve ever squirted before.
He rests back on his haunches, taking in your body below him. Squirming and soaked, begging for his hands and for his mouth.
“You’re so fucking bad for me.” Mingi breathes out in barely controlled disbelief, like your very being was something unhealthy while he was on a diet.
He’s leaning back over you and letting one hand slip around your body, pressing against your lower back to arch you a bit, his other hand unbuttoning his pants with hurried precision.
His lips swallow yours in a hungry moan, tilting his head and kissing you long and deep and frantic, your heavy breaths brushing against each other, his warm tongue running over yours in a cannibalistic kind of hunger.
“You’re making me such a bad, bad man, baby.” Mingi coos into the kiss, and while he’s kissing you into a fever, you feel something warm and heavy press against your stomach. Slowly, he grinds his hips against you, humping his cock against your belly.
You can tell two things immediately. Number one. Mingi was feral. The kiss was all teeth and drool, not giving you one second to breathe. The hand on your back is moving back up and gripping the back of your neck to help maneuver your head in the best way to kiss you as deep as possible.
And two. He felt so fucking huge.
Not to mention the mere size of him as he is, his broad shoulders shielding you from even being able to see the ceiling of his bedroom itself. But you can feel his cock twitch against your flesh. Long, so much so it reaches past your belly button, thick, hot. He was gonna split you in half, there was no doubt about it.
When he finally gives you a moment to breathe, he’s taking his other hand and grabbing the underside of your thigh, lifting it and maneuvering your leg over his shoulder, your ankle resting next to his head.
Spreading you nice and pretty, he reaches back down and grabs the base of his cock, setting it between your drooling lips, twitching against your clit, and you groan loudly into the space.
He gently moves his hips through your folds, a slow, slick glide as he lubes himself up with your arousal, moaning low and deep as he coats himself with you. His hand drags up your body, grabbing every inch of flesh he can before his hand is cupping over your mouth, pressing down nice and hard.
Your eyes widen as his hips never cease their movement, only gliding even smoother the wetter the length of his cock gets. He leans down to press his lips against your ear, and he kisses it lightly, his shaky breath fanning over you.
“Shh…shh.” he coos, and he cock jumps when he feels your moans vibrate beneath his palm. He litters the side of your neck with wet kisses, and your entire body shivers as you realize that no matter what you do, you cannot move.
He has you pinned against his mattress with the strength of his own body, holding you down with his weight. He feels you shake, and he swears he feels your cunt get even wetter, and he’s barely holding back the primal urge to pound you into his bed until you cry for him to stop.
“Not gonna use a condom with you, baby, I’m going to give it to you raw, maybe fuck some manners into your head while I’m at it.” Mingi groans nice and low against your ear, and then he’s finally sinking his cock into you, nice and slow. Stretching your pretty little pussy out as torturously as he can manage.
When you squeal beneath his hand, he shakes his head and leans back, his eyes lock with your watery ones as he clicks his tongue.
“No baby no….” He purrs, but he doesn’t stop sinking into you, pressing his hand further against your drooling mouth. “You have to be quiet, okay? Please?” He begs in a low, whiny tone. You can feel every vein of him graze against your pulsing walls, your tears spill down your cheeks and flow over his knuckles, and he whispers sweet nothings to you as he seems to sink into you endlessly.
“Such a pretty crier, darling.”
“Almost there, just a little more, beautiful slutty girl, taking me so well.”
His fingers are wet with your tears, and he can’t quite bottom out yet; he has to fuck himself deeper into you.
“Alright, I need you to be a good girl for me and keep that pretty mouth shut, I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?” You whine with a broken cry, and he’s pulling his hips back, sliding the length of him out of you, and then sliding right back in with a moan you can feel in your chest. Your legs shake as he pushes himself just a little deeper this time, and your belly feels full of him.
“Yeah, you've been wanting me to mess this pussy up, huh, baby?” Mingi’s free hand finds the base of your throat once more, helping keep you quiet by limiting your airflow. And you tighten around him so much that he has to pause because he physically cannot move any further.
He laughs lowly, and he peeps the way your eyelids flutter, and you seem to have drunk haze over your eyes. One hand over your mouth, so large he practically has your entire jaw in his grip. The other with a grounding hold on your throat, just tight enough to make you a little dumb. His entire body presses down against yours, pinned beneath him, so helpless.
His cock thick, heavy, and deep in your guts, slow, mean strokes that make your drool pool in the back of your throat.
He grins, and then he’s pressing himself deeper into your cunt, and you moan gutturally against his palm.
“Nasty little girl. You like not being able to breathe when I fuck you? Huh?” You don’t answer, of course, just moan and whine as he fucks his cock into you, deep and slow.
Your muscles start to tense from the pressure, your leg straightening over Mingi’s shoulder as the pleasure absolutely sweeps you away beneath his warm body.
“Your legs are locking up, baby.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. “C’mon, relax, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He teases you, even while drilling his cock into you like he was insatiable.
Then he’s slipping his hand underneath your knee, bending your leg forward, and pressing it against your chest. You cry out, and suddenly he’s sinking in ever deeper, and you feel so incredibly full. His hand slips away from your mouth for just a moment to hook beneath your other knee, and pushes it up to your chest as well, folded underneath your professor like some kind of doll.
You choke out an overstimulated sob, and once he’s able to hold both your legs down against your body with his chest, his hand is back on your mouth to keep your noises down.
He stops moving his hips and shivers, the new angle having you so much tighter around his cock, and with your knees up to your shoulders, making you look so small, he’s seconds away from losing it.
“S-Sir…” you whine beneath his palm, your cries muffled and your breath hot against his skin. Mingi’s cock jumps inside of you when he feels your voice against his hand, and he drops his head by your neck with a shaky, low moan.
“I’m sorry, pretty baby.” He murmurs in your ear, and then he starts to move again. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
This time, he’s kissing spots so deep you feel him in your ribcage. His tip scraping that perfect spot that makes your muscles cramp, and your throat catches.
“Am I too big for you?” He smiles against the flared skin of your throat, pulling his hips all the way back, tantalizingly slow enough to force you to feel every thick inch of him stroke in and out of your walls.
He leans away from your neck and looks at you, your eyes fluttering and your nose flaring as he slowly eases into a meaner pace, nearly pounding your cunt like he couldn’t control himself.
“Look at me, baby,” Mingi mumbles softly, and when you don’t respond, he squeezes your jaw harder, and your eyes shoot open. “I said, look at me, right here.” His voice is rougher this time, commanding. Like how he talks to the class when he wants their undivided attention, but this time it’s laced with pure primal need.
Your eyes lock with his, and everything starts to crumble. Your whines break into breathless, sad whimpers, your legs shake even when he’s got them pressed to your chest, your pussy gushes around him as he finds a relentless, deep rhythm, drilling his fat cock into you.
“Holy shit, you’re soaked.” He breathes out, pressing his lips against the back of his hand that covers your mouth. His hips smack against yours, a wet slap of skin with every drag of his hips; you could hardly hear yourself think.
“Good slut… fuckkk- my baby is so needy, hm? Such a selfish pussy.” He’s bullying you now, his swollen lips shiny and wet, then finally he’s taking his hand off your mouth and immediately replacing it with his lips.
Kissing you slow and deep, muffling your cries with his own mouth. His tongue fills your mouth, and your moans vibrate against him, and you feel as he starts to fuck up into you faster, the slaps of skin louder and the pleasure scraping up your spine and rendering you cockdrunk.
“Such a crybaby.” He groans down your throat, his warm chest pressed against your own like a heated cage, nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
“Mm, just wanna- fuck… just wanna make you feel good.” He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and almost growls, and you notice he’s starting to get rougher, get meaner. Losing control.
He started to ramble in cracked moans under his breath. “Better than her… p-prettier than her… fuck-! Softer than h-her…”
You hadn’t had half the mind to dwell on his words, but you just knew he must have been talking about his wife. Whether she was in the picture or not, he was still thinking about her. And you hated to admit it, but it sent your ego soaring.
His hands grip the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs harder against your body, then he’s dragging his hips back with a heady growl and pounding you.
Hard, deep thrusts that have you sliding up the mattress, he’s careful enough not to send the headboard flying against the wall, but it’s still enough that it sends your poor little brain into a frenzy.
“Shouldn’t be letting me do this to you.” He breathes through gritted teeth, his messy salt and pepper hair falling over his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but interrupted himself with a broken moan. You felt so fucking good around him, he couldn’t believe it.
A wet, blissful mess under him. Such a smart girl who risked everything she had just to be ruined by a man old enough to be her father. There was no redeeming himself now. And he wasn’t sure that he’d want to.
“Does it feel good? Does my baby feel good here?” His hand gently presses against your lower stomach, where he’s buried inside of you, teasing you with heated questions he knows you don’t have the capacity to answer. You shake and shiver every time his tip kisses that sweet spot.
You’re doing so well, keeping your voice down, struggling to breathe as you try to keep your noises to yourself. And in all honesty, all he wants to do is hear you. He wants to hear you squeal and cry for him, but not while his daughter is home.
“P-please…!” You weep, your hands scrambling to grab something, anything. He doesn’t let you, grabbing both your wrists in his huge hand and lifting your hands above your head.
“Wrap your legs around me.” He bites out, sliding his hand from under your thigh and covering your mouth once again. Your muffled whines flow through his hand as you follow his command, wrapping your shaky legs around his waist as he adjusts the position of his hips so he can put as much force as he can behind his thrusts.
With your wrists pinned above you and your mouth beneath his palm, his gaze burns through your skull, and his eyebrows knit together like he’s focusing. “Shh. Be still, be quiet.”
You whine loudly, and he presses his hand harder against your mouth, shaking his head like he was disappointed.
“No ma’am, you know better.” He groans, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his own noises as he starts to fuck you so hard it’s like he is trying to force your cunt to mold to his shape.
Resolute, deep, cruel, Mingi uses your body like he is burning from the inside out. Angling his hips upward with every thrust to perfectly graze against your G-spot in a way that had you spiraling forward to your orgasm in record time. Your neck involuntarily cranes backward, and his hand follows your movements, keeping a tight grip on your jaw to muffle you.
Your wrists wiggle in his grasp, your hands shaking and spasming as all you feel is white-hot bliss. Like your entire being was pleasure embodied, and Mingi was working you out so perfectly.
The wet slaps were impossible to mask, the creak of the bed rivaling Mingi’s only thought that swam around his brain.
Break her. Break her. Break her.
You sobbed quietly, and you couldn’t believe this was happening. It all felt too good, and Mingi was way too good at this. It would be easy to get addicted, and it would ultimately be the downfall for you both. But you were too lost in it to care; all you wanted was to cum, and Mingi was getting you there no problem.
“I know baby, I know.” He growls under his breath, and your stomach lurches.
Mingi whines out broken and low curses, dropping his forehead against yours, his body jerking when he feels you tighten around him.
He lifts his eyes to your fucked out ones and kisses the tip of your nose, such a soft gesture, all the while he pounds your pussy to death.
“You cumming beautiful?” He exhales, and you nod frantically beneath his hand. There’s a conflict in his eyes, then he’s leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“I’m gonna move my hand, but you have to be quiet, darling. I want this to be good for you, but you have to breathe through it.”
You weren’t really listening, too focused on your orgasm, the more it coiled in your lower stomach. You nodded, anything to let you cum. Mingi wasn’t buying your eagerness, and he shook his head.
“Look me in the eyes and say you understand.” You force your eyes to lock with his, his hips slowing to a deep grind, your shuddering breaths warming his hand.
Your pleading gaze has him crumbling, and slowly he slips his hand away and grips the front of your throat loose enough you can breathe, but enough to assert control.
“I u-understand!” You cry, your voice a low whimper. “Please, Mingi, I’ll b-be good! I promise…”
Your sweet voice, it makes his cock twitch inside of you, and he grinds so deep into you that your lungs shake.
“Beg.” He snarls, forming his lips into a mocking pout. “Say, ‘Please let me cum, please fuck me through it, please.’ Make it pretty, use your manners.”
Your nose flares, and your cheeks are wet with tears make Mingi’s heart pound.
“Please… let me c-cum.” You whimper, your bottom lip wobbling, every word a drunken slur. “Please, wan’ it so bad… please.”
He smiles greedily, your pleas trailing off into quiet, mindless babbles, while he slips his hand between your melded bodies and finds your clit.
You feel his fingertips press up against it, and a gasp tears from your lungs, your legs tightening around him enough to force his hips to sink his cock deeper into you. Mingi tucks his bottom lip between his teeth drunkenly, circling your clit and grinding his hips into you each time he bottoms out with every powerful thrust.
“Yes. Yes…” You weep pathetically, and with every clench of your cunt, every sweet noise from your mouth, Mingi finds it very hard to push the thought of fucking a baby into you to the back of his mind.
His body craves it, his soul screams at him to fill you up, his cock twitches from the sensitivity of holding himself back. He knows that it would be bad for both of you. Once he lets go like that, he’s going to want to fill you up again, again, again. Until the results are satisfactory and you are round with his child.
He doesn’t want that. He’s sure you don’t want that. His body craves it, his instincts pick up on your young, palpable fertility like he was some kind of animal.
Your legs lock up around him, and your back arches off the bed, so close to that blinding edge. Your hands reach around his claw at his broad back, your nails scratching him up, dragging a wince from his lips.
“M-Mingi-! Oh my god… right there- right there…”
The authoritative honorific long abandoned, your brain clouds over as your orgasm creeps up your neck.
“You got it, sweetheart…” he praises, never stopping the repetitive strokes of his fingers, the filthy grind of his hips. “Cum for me, all over me, please baby…”
He kisses the front of your throat, sucking dark marks into your soft skin and running his tongue flat over them. Repeated begs for you to fall apart on his cock, begging for you to let go.
Your entire body tenses, and then it washes over you in waves; they seem to never stop. He doesn’t stop moving his hips; he starts to fuck you faster. Dragging your orgasm out and taking advantage of how tight you’ve gotten, you cry out and shake violently. Mingi gives you no room to breathe, every slick sound of his cock slipping in and out of you so smoothly, only seeming to help you cum harder.
“That’s it… yeah… c’mon babygirl. Don’t stop. Cum until it hurts.” He smashes his lips with yours and moans loudly down your throat, his tongue invading your mouth with a greedy hunger, fucking you with renewed vigor. His hands slide up and cup your jaw, holding your head still as he kisses you stupid.
Then, your legs tighten around him, you tilt your head, and kiss him deeper. You force his hips against yours, and he sinks deeper into you.
“Inside.” You moan around his tongue, and you could feel his low, gravelly whine against your teeth. “Please.”
“Fuck…” he growls, and the hands on your jaw slip up and splay against either side of your face, holding you like you might try and run from him. “Don’t say that.”
But you double down. “Please, sir. Need you to fuck me full of you… get me all messy.”
Mingi gives you a warning look, his thumb slipping down and pushing against your chin, opening your mouth for him. He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, and you watch as a string of spit falls down the tip of his tongue and into your mouth, and your entire body erupts into an uncontrollable shiver.
“You want it?”He grunts, molding his lips with yours and kissing you so nastily, so dirty, you swear you were cumming again. You whisper pleading ‘yes’s’ and whimpering begs for him to fill you up, and you could practically feel the resolve crack in hips. “Gonna make this pussy a fucking mess.”
How could he resist? Mingi’s hips stutter, and his mouth opens against yours, breathing heavily, exhales broken with whines and groans. His pretty eyes half lidded, and his eyebrows pulled together as he shoves himself deep in your cunt one last time before he’s cumming, rolling his hips into you as he shakily moans against your lips, filling your pussy up with him.
Warmth spreads throughout your body, and Mingi’s entire body presses down heavily against yours, his hips grinding against you in slow, repeated motions, making sure not a single drop of him slips out of you.
Your heavy breaths fill the quiet of his room that has fallen, and realization begins to set in. There was no coming back from this.
You weren’t going to drop his class. You weren’t going to quit the babysitting job. You needed both, and Mingi could do without you, no matter what you decide to do.
He could find a new babysitter. It would be one less paper to grade.
But he doesn’t think he would be able to go one day without craving you like some kind of drug.
Slowly, he crawls off of you, his heart still racing. You sit up on your elbows, and immediately you move to gather your clothes, but his hand on your wrist stops you.
“Whoa, whoa, wait. What are you doing?” His gentle, kind voice has returned, and your eyes widen as you freeze in place.
“I’m- I’m getting my stuff…?” You’re confused, and he shakes his head like he was disappointed. He stands up and guides you to stand with him. He towers over you, and his hands, which were so rough with you earlier, caress the sides of your arms.
Up your shoulders and along the marks he littered along your neck. He presses his lips to the top of your head and kisses you softly, inhaling the smell of your shampoo. “Let me take care of you.” He murmurs into your hair, and you exhale shakily.
“Why?” You answer, and he rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“What a stupid question.” He laughs, massaging your shoulders and maneuvering you to walk towards his bathroom.
“I thought you said there was no such thing.” You tease, and he opens the bathroom door before picking you up and setting you on the counter.
“I can be wrong sometimes.” He shrugs, turning around and opening the sliding glass door of the shower. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
While he’s adjusting the temperature of the water, you turn and look at yourself in the mirror. You were an awful wreck. Frizzy hair, sweaty skin, dark marks on every inch of your body. He really did a number on you.
“I am still a gentleman after all.” He smiles and turns to fetch you once again, scooping you up and setting you inside the tub.
“You weren’t acting like one earlier.” You mumble, and he scoops some water in his hand and splashes it on your face. Your mouth falls open in shock, and he raises a warning eyebrow at you.
“Manners, young lady.”
Mingi cleans you up with a soft rag, gently washing you clean with a soap that smells like him. You nearly fall asleep in his arms, strong and grounding as held your body up.
He’s careful with you, like you’re made of glass. Attentive to your sensitive spots. He dries you off like a baby duck, avoiding your hair to not mess it up any further.
Once he’s got you cleaned up, he ushers you downstairs and urges you to eat something while he takes a shower of his own. He ever generously cuts you up a bowl of fruit, wearing nothing but a loose towel around his waist.
That strange domesticity from the first night he had hired you returned tenfold. And you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him while he worked. His damp hair clinging to his skin, his skin shiny and freckled. The tattoos on his body faded and turned green from the years of existence.
He lay you on the couch, gently massaging your ankles while you ate the fruit, a comfortable quiet settling over both.
“You can sleep here, if you want.” He whispers, massaging your calves. His glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, and he glances at you over them. You avoid his gaze, very interested in the pieces of kiwi sprinkled about your bowl.
“I shouldn’t.” You mumble, and you could feel his grip on your calf loosen. You turn and lock eyes with him, and he thinks he would do anything for those pretty eyes you give him.
“We shouldn’t.” You finish, and you move to stand, but he follows you. His hands cup your elbows and pull you close, flush to his chest. His fingers caress the fragile bone in your arms, and he leans his head down to kiss your forehead.
“Just for tonight, you shouldn’t be driving. You can hardly keep your eyes open.”
He kisses your eyelid, trailing chaste smooches down the side of your face until he melts against your lips, breathing deeply as you lean into him.
His hands slide down from your elbows to gently envelop either side of your waist, tilting his head to greedily kiss you deeper.
You sigh into his mouth, and he could feel you relax in his arms. Your hands reach up and wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him further against you.
“Okay.” You whisper, pulling away from his lips. He smiles, the smile lines making your heart flutter in your chest. He kisses the corner of your mouth, then he’s leading you away once again, the half-empty bowl of fruit abandoned on the side table. “Just this once.”
Of course, once would turn into twice. And before you know it, you have a routine with him.
Moments that were spent together in the privacy of his own home gradually transitioned into fleeting touches in the campus library, pushing you up against secluded bookshelves and eating you out to high heaven.
Dragging you to his office after class and bending you over his desk and having you then and there like some kind of animal.
You even went so far as to have him over at your home, riding on the hope that your parents wouldn’t decide to come home early from their date nights.
If the board found out, he’d be terminated effective immediately. If your parents found out? God knows how they would feel.
So you agreed to keep this little secret between you two. His daughter was none the wiser, and she never questioned whenever you chose to stay the night, it only made her happier.
You and Mingi had something. Something good? Something bad? You weren’t sure just yet.
For now, you were having fun. Something someone your age should prioritize. You act like strangers in class, only fleeting looks that were silent promises for what was to come later in the privacy of his home.
These kinds of things were always bound to end in a disaster, and god you prayed it wouldn’t. Just this one time.
You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t his wife. You were a placeholder of sorts, a ghost to fill the empty shadow left in the home. You had no place there, but the longer you stayed the more you began to burn your imprint into the floorboards.
The wolf can keep that fawn as a pet for a little while, but its instinct to consume will always outshine later down the road.
And the fawn’s instinct to flee will always be there; it never disappears. However long it chooses to ignore it, will only prolong the pain that will destroy it when it is finally devoured.
Synopsis : Yunho misses his Miss soso much it aches ! Surely she wouldn’t mind if he showed her just how much he needs her . . .
Warnings : Smut !! 18+ only pls, pillow humping, pet play, masturbation, sex over facetime 🫢, subby Yuyu!!, petnames (ma’am, pup/puppy, baby, mommy like once)
Now playing - Lady by Avenoir
Yunho lays in your bed, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he pathetically sniffs your blankets and sheets. It’s been hours since you’ve left him all alone as you went to some stupid business trip. He promised to be good, he always is, he’s your good boy and that’s all he ever wants to be. But *god* is it hard to do it when he so badly needs you.
a bulge strains against his plaid pajamas, pleading for attention. Yunho wants to do something about it, he truly does! But what would his Miss think…? He’s done everything he could to try to distract himself but something about the distance between you two only makes him grow more needy. In a desperate attempt to satiate his growing needs and to keep you pleased, he found a solution. Perhaps, maybe, *hopefully* you wouldn’t be mad if he were to *show* you him touching himself..?
Yunho quickly propped himself up and reached for his phone on the bed stand, setting it up before quickly pressing your contact to facetime. As the phone rang, Yunho twitched in anticipation and nervousness, griping the pillow already between his legs. Suddenly, the phone lit with your face and Yunho became impossibly aroused. You’re so pretty, your eyes soft at the sight of Yunho’s messy and flushed state.
“M-Miss!” Yunho called out, his voice already breaking into a whine. Seeing his desperation makes you tilt your head in curiosity. “Hello, my sweet boy.” You coo with a smile, enjoying the way Yunho deliquesces at your softness. “What has you so flushed, hm?” You finally ask. The question makes Yunho shy, worrying that you might get upset at him for this. “W-Well, I’ve been so needy since you left.. And I know you said that good boys don’t touch themselves without permission, but if I let you watch, can I still be your good boy..?”
The proposal makes you admittedly flush, but only for a moment before you break into a sly smirk. You find yourself quite lucky for Yunho’s call finding you in your hotel room alone. Your eyes flicker down to Yunho’s spread legs, the large bulge protruding from his pajamas painfully obvious. “Oh..my poor pup, so lonely and needy~” You hum, the seduction in your tone making Yunho moan in reply. “Well, go on then, show me how you touch yourself when I’m gone, pup.”
〰︎ꕥ〰︎
Yunho sloppily rubs his now bare cock against your pillow, panting and whining as he bit his shirt, holding it up for you. He looks so good..his hair all ruffled with his large hands gripping the sheets as he whines like a mutt for you. The unholy sight makes you drip between your thighs. Before you know it, you’re slipping your hand between your thighs, pulling your lacy panties to the side. You shiver as the cold air hits your cunt, forcing you to let out a small moan. Yunho catches the whisper of a moan between his whines and feels his ego grow a bit more.
With the knowledge that he’s satisfying you, he begins to put more of a performance on, arching his back and moaning louder with one of his hands now trailing up his body. “D-Do you like me like this, ma’am~?” Yunho giggled, making you bite your lip. “Uh-huh..keep putting on a good show for me, puppy.”
You two continue matching eachother’s pace when a knot tightens in your tummy. “Ngh~ Fuck! M’close, baby boy..” You groan as your fingers pick up pace along with your thumb beginning to rub your clit in circles. Yunho’s close too, his cock beginning to twitch again as he feels his release building up. “I-I am too, ma’am..may I please cum..?” He pants as he throws his head back to keep himself from passing out. “Y-Yes! Fuck, cum with me, sweetheart!” You moan before you both release at the same time. “Ngh~! M-Mommy~!” Yunho moans as he shoots ropes of hot cum onto your pillow and sheets, his hips still moving to ride out his orgasm.
The two of you are left breathless and more hungry than ever. As you stare down at the mess you’ve made yourself, something within you snaps. You quickly get yourself together and sit up. “Stay there, pup. You’re off the hook this time but that doesn’t mean I’m done with you.” You chuckle before hanging up on him. If Yunho was nervous then, he’s a trembling wreck now.
