When niragi said he wanted to try something new, this is not what you had in mind. “Stay still,” he murmurs, voice low and edged like a blade. “I want to try something.” You barely get a breath in before something cold touches your throat.
Ice.
A single cube, pinched between his fingers, gliding just beneath your jawline. The shock of cold makes your spine jolt, a tiny gasp slipping out before you can swallow it back. Niragi grins like he’s been waiting for that sound.
“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, tracing the ice slowly down the line of your neck. “Good.” The cube melts against your skin, leaving a thin, trembling trail. He follows it with his mouth, heat replacing cold, breath ghosting over every place the ice touched. His lips stop at your neck, lingering there, tasting the melted mess he created.
His free hand presses to your hip—firm, possessive, pulling you closer until your bodies nearly touch. “Let’s see how much colder you can handle,” he whispers. You feel the next piece of ice drag along your collarbone, then down, slow, Niragi watching your reactions like he’s memorizing every twitch, every breath, every place your body gives you away. “You look good like this,” he says, voice dropping even lower. “All worked up from something so simple.”
The ice slips lower.
His mouth follows.
Your knees nearly buckle.
“Aw..poor baby gonna cry?” He teases, forcing a whine from your throat. “What? Can’t handle a little cold?” He smirks. He presses the ice cube against your swollen clit through your panties, making you fall forward.
He catches you effortlessly, laughing under his breath as if your reaction is the best thing he’s seen all day. “Relax. I’m not done with you yet.”
Warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, grinding, drugs, DOING drugs, smut, withdrawals, cocaine, pills,
You haven't had anything, no drugs for the past week. You haven't been able to sleep. There was only one thing to do, which was to go to your dealer's house, Namgyu, who also happened to be a close friend.
you walk to his house in the rain, he didn't live that far away, thank God. When you get on his porch, you put your hood down and knock. almost immediately after you knock, he opens the door.
"Damn, here again?" He says, moving out of the way so you can come in. You come in and sit on his couch, making yourself at home. "Yeah. Took all the pills..." You wrap your arms around yourself, rocking back and forth slightly.
"You look rough." He says, running a hand through his hair. Of course you looked fucking rough. The past two years you haven't gone without drugs for longer than 4 days. You haven't even had a cigarette in a week, that was the real pain in the ass.
You give him a warning glance and he throws his arms up in defense. "Alright, alright, m'gonna get you your shit." He walks down the hall to him room. You continue to rock back and forth slightly.
A minute or two later, he returns with two small bags and hold them up in front of you. One bag had a few colorful pills, and the other had a white powder, you could only assume what that could be.
"Which one?" He says. Shit, you have no clue. You're so desperate you would take anything he gave you. Your eyes flicker between the two bags. "Shit, I dont know...both?" You reach out to grab the bags, but he pulls them back.
"Payment." He sits across from you on the other side of the coffee table. "Yeah, of course." You mutter, digging in your pocket. You throw a couple dollar bills, a couple of loose change, and 2 bobby pins on the table, giving him whatever you have in your pockets, that's clearly not enough.
He laughs darkly. "Are you deadass?" He says, leaning back and crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow at you. "I'll.. I'll pay you back. I always do!" you explain. He grabs the bags. "No payment, no sale." He shakes his head, standing up and going to put the bags back.
You quickly stand up and run after him, grabbing onto his hoodie sleeve. "Gyu! You know I always pay you back! c'mon, I need this!" His eyes narrow and he sees the pleading look in your eye.
"You need it that bad?" He mutters and you nod frantically. You bring your hand to your hoodie zipper, zipping it down. He scoffs. "You really gonna whore yourself out for some drugs?" He growls, leaning down so he's eye level with you. You roll your eyes. "M'desperate, mkay?" you mutter.
He runs a hand through his hair "It has been a while." he mutters. "Fuck it." He groans, pulling you in for a rough kiss. You squeal as his hands go down to grab your ass.
He pulls back, panting, opens one of the bags, the one with the colorful pills. He pops one into his mouth. He grips your chin tightly. "Open." you immediately open your mouth, and he kisses you deeply transferring the pill to your mouth. you try to swallow it quickly, so it doesn't dissolve in your mouth.
You whine into his mouth, grabbing his hoodie sleeve and pulling him to his living room. You sit him down on the couch, straddling his lap. He leans in for a kiss, but you pull back. He desperately grips at your waist. you dig in his hoodie pocket, finally taking out the bag of white powder and setting it aside.
You tug at his hoodie. "Off.." you whine. "Say please." He gently wraps his hand around your neck. "Please..?" He smirks, pulling off his hoodie, then his shirt. "Asshole." You mutter under your breath, pulling down his sweatpants and leaving him in just his boxers.
You barely get his sweatpants past his hips before his hand closes around your wrist—tight, hot, grounding. His eyes drag up your face, slow, hungry, irritated in that way he gets when he’s trying too hard not to let something show.
“Slow down,” he mutters, voice low enough to vibrate against your skin. “You’re acting like you’re gonna disappear if I blink.” You swallow hard. The pill you took earlier sits warm and electric in your stomach, buzzing through your veins just enough to make everything sharper. His touch. His breath. The heat of his body under your hands.
“I told you,” you murmur, leaning forward until your forehead brushes his. “I’m desperate.” His breath stutters—barely, but you feel it. His fingers flex around your wrist, then slide up, tracing the inside of your arm before settling at the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your pulse like he’s checking how fast it’s racing.
“Yeah,” he mutters, eyes half-lidded. “I can tell.” He pulls you in—slow this time, intentional—his lips brushing yours before he actually kisses you. Not rough like before. Not rushed. Just… claiming. Like he wants to feel every second of how badly you want him.
You melt into him without meaning to, knees hitting the edge of the couch as he pulls you down with him. You end up straddling his lap again, but this time he’s the one gripping your waist, keeping you steady, keeping you close.
“Tch,” he scoffs against your mouth, though you can feel the smile ghosting there. “Look at you. Acting like I’m your damn lifeline.” Your hands slide over his bare shoulders, fingers curling at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you are.”
He freezes—just a fraction of a second—but you feel it. His chest rises sharply beneath you, breath catching like the words hit him somewhere he wasn’t braced for.
Then he grabs your hip, tugging you down until you’re chest-to-chest. “Don’t say shit like that,” he mutters, voice rasped and low. “You don’t know what that does to me.”
Your heart skips, stumbling in your ribs. “Then don’t make me say it.” He tilts his head, jaw tensing. You can feel the shift in him—the crackle of something possessive, dangerous, and far too real.
“I swear,” he growls softly, thumb brushing your lower lip, “you’re gonna get me in trouble.” You smirk, breath mingling with his. “Maybe that’s the point.”
He laughs under his breath—dark, warm, impressed. His hand cups your jaw as he pulls you in again, kissing you deep, slow, with enough heat to make your entire body sway toward him. And when he finally pulls back, lips brushing yours, his voice drops to a rough whisper:
“Fine. You want trouble?” His fingers dig into your waist, pulling you flush against him. “You got it.”
His mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, a rough, claiming kiss that steals every thought from your head. His hands slide under your shirt—warm, greedy—pulling you closer like he can melt you straight into him.
You gasp against his lips, and he groans, low and sharp, like the sound is pulled straight out of his chest. “Yeah,” he mutters, dragging his mouth down your jaw, “that’s it… keep making those sounds.”
His fingers grip your hips and drag you against him, slow enough to make your breath hitch but firm enough that your head tips back on instinct. Your thighs tighten around him as heat curls up your spine—fast, overwhelming.
He feels it immediately. “Desperate little thing,” he breathes against your throat, teeth grazing your skin. “You can’t even sit still.”
You try to speak, but the words fall apart on your tongue when he rolls his hips up again—slow, deliberate, teasing. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on because your body is starting to tremble with how badly you want more.
He notices. Of course he notices. “Tch.” He smirks, brushing his thumb across your lower lip. “Look at you. Shaking for me.”
His hand trails down your stomach, slow enough to make your breath trip, then lower—only to stop just before where you’re aching for him.
You whine—quiet, embarrassed, uncontrollable. He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he whispers:
“Beg.”
The word hits harder than his touch. Your whole body tightens, heat spiraling low in your belly. You swallow hard. “Please…”. He exhales like you just gave him oxygen.
“Good,” he murmurs, kissing you again—deep, hungry, almost cruel in how slowly he drags his mouth over yours. “Say it again.”
“Please,” you breathe, your voice shaking. “I need you.”
His grip on your waist tightens—just a little too hard. His self-control is hanging by a thread, and you feel it in every trembling second he holds himself back. “You have no idea,” he rasps, forehead pressed to yours, “how easy it would be to ruin you right now.” Your breath catches—sharp, wanting.
He tilts your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes. “And you’d let me.”
It isn’t a question.
He kisses you again—rough, consuming—while his hands slide lower, guiding your hips against his in a rhythm that makes your pulse speed up. The room blurs. His breath mixes with yours. Your body arches into him like you were made to fit there. And just when you feel yourself start to fall apart, He flips you back onto the couch, caging you beneath him with a look that’s all hunger and no patience left. “Alright,” he growls, voice dropping to a dark, unsteady whisper.
“You wanted more?” His mouth trails down your throat, his hands sliding where you need them most—slow, teasing, inevitable.
You don’t even realize you’re shaking until Darry pins your hips with those huge, calloused hands—hands that could throw a man through a wall but are now holding you down like you’re the only thing he can’t risk hurting.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dropping low enough to vibrate through your chest. “You’re wound up so tight I can feel your heartbeat.” You’re stomach down on the bed, taking everything he gives you- painfully. You gasp when his hips press forward again, slow, heavy, impossible. The pressure makes your whole body tense, arching up, toes curling helplessly. “Darry—” your voice cracks, embarrassingly needy, “I—I can’t—” “Yes you can.” His mouth brushes your jaw, breath hot and ragged. “You can take me. You’re already doing it.”
Your fingers claw at his sheets, nails dragging down the dark cloth. He’s too big everywhere—his hands, his chest covering your back, the weight of him pinning you, surrounding you, swallowing every thought. “Feels like I’m gonna break,” you whisper, half desperation, half plea. Darry groans, deep, low, guttural, like your words hit something primal in him. His forehead drops to your shoulder, his breath shaking, heavy and hot against your skin.
“You’re not breaking,” he growls. “You’re stretching around me. You’re opening up so damn slow it’s driving me insane.” His hand slides up your ribs, steadying you as your hips tremble. “Don’t run from it,” he whispers. “Take it.”
You whimper, turning your head so your cheek is pressed down on the bed. “Too big…” “Yeah.” His voice roughens dangerously. “I know.” He kisses down the back of your neck, messy, hungry, reverent and greedy all at once, like he’s trying to distract you from the way he’s easing deeper, inch by overwhelming inch. Your breath catches, your chest rising too fast, too shallow.
His thumb circles your hip, grounding you. “You feel so damn snug around me. Like you were made for this. For me. Your legs shake as your body protests the stretch, his hands leave your hips and move to be over your own hands. “You’re trying so hard,” he whispers against your skin, tone shifting into something darkly proud. “Look at you. Shaking under me. Holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping you together.”
You can’t stop the sound that escapes you, something broken, needy, overwhelmed. His hand cups your cheek, forcing your gaze up to meet his. “There you go,” he praises softly, voice like warm gravel. “Let me see how much you can take.” When he pushes deeper, your breath stutters, eyes squeezing shut, But Darry catches your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip.
“Eyes on me,” he commands gently. “I want to watch exactly when you give in.” Your entire body melts under him, trembling, stretched, overwhelmed, completely at his mercy. And Darry smiles, slow, breathless, almost undone. “That’s it,” he whispers. “Good girl. You’re taking every bit of me.” He growls. “Okay…relax..” You try to relax but the second his hips push forward, you break, his cock bulldozing his way inside of you, a quiet popping sound filling the room as he bottoms out inside you.
A soft cry tears through your throat, making Darry freeze. He grips your hair gently, pulling your face up. He leans forward and gently licks off a tear that’s dripping down your cheek. “Don’t worry, pup..” he whispers. “I’m just getting started..”
“Ow!-Namgyu!” You shriek as he ties a pink silk ribbon around your thigh. You don’t even remember how you got into think situation. One minute you were making diy Christmas tree ornaments, rolling them in glue then sprinkling holographic glitter on them, and now he was tying you up in soft, baby pink ribbons- the same ribbons you were gonna attach to the ornaments to hang them on the tree- making you his pretty little masterpiece.
“Too tight?” He mutters. You nod, making him roll his eyes, “you’re so soft.” He says coldly, Even so, he unties the bow, letting the ribbon fall into a loose curl against your skin. He brushes his fingers over the spot he cinched too tightly, like an apology he’d never admit out loud. Then he brings the ribbon back around your thigh, tying a gentler bow this time. The soft pudge of your thigh presses around the silk, and his fingertips slow as if he’s memorizing the shape of you beneath it. He gently runs his hand over the ribbon then looks up at you, “that better?” He asks, and you swallow and nod. “Good. Hold still.”
He reaches for another ribbon, this one a deeper pink, like a softened cherry-red. He guides your thigh slightly to the side so he can loop it around your other thigh. His fingers are warm from the heater running in the corner, and it makes your leg twitch slightly. “You really shouldn’t let me near craft supplies,” he murmurs, pulling the ribbon tight enough to stay, loose enough to be comfortable. “I warned you I’d get creative.” You try to say something but you can’t get words out and just let out a little squeal.
“See? Told you,” he says quietly, leaning back to admire his work. “My little holiday project.” The glow of the Christmas tree spills warm gold across his face, softening his features, making him look less like the sarcastic menace who dragged you into this and more like someone who’s trying very hard not to look completely smitten.
He studies you for a moment, ribbons and all, eyes warm in a way that makes your chest ache. “You look good like this,” he murmurs. “Too good.” You open your mouth to say something back—anything—but he shakes his head lightly, as if he already knows you’re just going to melt again He nudges your knee playfully with his own, gripping your chin softly. His hand gently moves down to your sternum onto your bra, playing with the little ribbon in the middle. “Now don’t move. I’m not finished decorating you yet.”
hi ! would u write a fic with sub!daeho x fem reader ? i was thinking during the games after the rebellion failed when he was vulnerable & vv pathetic. i kinda want reader to degrade & praise him at the same time if that makes any sense ? also if u can reader kissing & biting him till blood + riding
tbh just anything w a vv subby daeho i dont even mind the prompt that much
Daeho sits on the hard, cold mattress, everybody else asleep, wrists slack against his knees, exhaustion dripping off him like sweat. The games have broken him down piece by piece, and all he wants to do is go home. You step toward him, careful not to come up to him too fast or startle him. “Look at you,” you murmur, tilting his chin up with two fingers. Your thumb brushes the smear of dried blood on his cheek. You weren’t sure if it was his, or one of his old teammates. “That rebellion was never going to work,” you say coldly, “I- I know”, you cut him off “and I told you that.” He swallows, throat bobbing. “Don’t—” His voice cracks, pathetic in the prettiest way. You smile. “Don’t what? Don’t tell you the truth? Don’t enjoy how desperate you are right now?” His breath stutters. Eyes drop. Knees spread unconsciously. Ah. There it is. You climb into his lap, straddling him, your hands braced against his shoulders. He makes a broken sound—half whimper, half exhale. “Poor thing,” you whisper against his jaw. “You fought so hard just to end up underneath me anyway.” Your teeth scrape the side of his neck. He gasps—sharp, needy—fingers digging into your hips but not daring to pull you closer. “Use your words,” you warn softly. “I—” His breath trembles. “Please.” You laugh quietly against his skin. “You want to be degraded or praised more?” He blushes so hard you feel it under your mouth. “I don’t know,” he admits, voice thin. “Both?” Your lips press to his pulse. “Good boy.” He chokes on a whine. You kiss down the column of his throat, alternating soft lips and sharp nips that make him clutch at you helplessly. When your teeth dig just a little deeper, just enough to leave him trembling, he melts completely, head tipping back, offering himself without realizing it. “Pretty,” you hum. “So pretty when you give in.” His breath hitches. “You’re— you’re driving me insane.” “Good.” You sink your fingers into his hair and tug. “I like you needy.” You mutter as you quickly pull your sweatpants off. Dae-ho is quick to pull his down just enough so his cock springs out, slapping against his stomach. You couldn’t even bother taking your panties off, so you just pull them to the side. When you finally sink down onto him, he breaks, head buried against your chest, arms wrapping around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. He moans against your shoulder, drooling slightly. You ride him slowly at first, savoring every desperate sound he tries and fails to hold back. His hands tremble on your thighs. His eyes are glossy, unfocused, worshipful. “You wanted to get outta here..” you murmur, rolling your hips just right, “but look at you now. Begging under me. Shaking for me.” His breath shatters. “Please— please don’t stop—” You grip his jaw and make him meet your gaze. “Why would I stop,” you purr, “when you look this beautiful giving up?” He whimpers, body arching. “Y-yes… yes, please—” You kiss him hard, all teeth and possession, leaving his lips swollen and his breath stolen. When you bite his bottom lip—not hard, just enough to make him gasp—his fingers dig into you and he moans like he’s unraveling. You keep riding him until he’s trembling, until the pathetic edge of his voice becomes sweet, until his hands cling and his pride is long gone. When he finally falls apart beneath you, you hold his face in your hands, whispering against his lips: “That’s it. My good boy. My perfect boy.”
A/N: I ain’t even gonna lie..this has been in my drafts since July..
Johnny ruts into you from behind, panting heavily, “you think you could give me one more, sugar? Hm?” He pants out, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He chuckles and shakes his head as he realizes you’re in your own little world, babbling and moaning with your face buried in the mattress. He grips your hair and pulls your head back. That sure snaps you out of it. “Whattt?” You whine, Johnny leans forward and wraps his arm around your neck, putting you into a headlock position. “Think you could squirt for me?” He whispers into your ear. You whine, letting your head loll forward. “Can’t anymore..all out..” Johnny groans and takes the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it dangerously close to your asscheek “I’ll burn you, I swear to god.” He whispers. You know he will, because he’s done it before. You hesitate but nod. Johnny ruts deeper into you, trying to force it out of you. Johnny’s grip tightens, his breath warm against your ear as he pulls you up just enough for you to meet his eyes in the dim light. “C’mon,” he murmurs, voice rough but coaxing now, not demanding. “Give me just a little more.” You shake your head weakly, overwhelmed, but he only smirks—half-teasing, half-triumphant. “That’s my girl,” he says, dragging his thumb along your lower back before guiding you up so your back is pressed against his chest. Johnny’s arm stays firm across your chest as he pulls you upright, keeping you balanced against him. You can feel his breath on your neck—hot, uneven, frustrated and amused all at once. “Drift off on me again,” he murmurs, voice low like a warning, “and I’m gonna start thinking you’re doing it on purpose.”You blink hard, trying to pull yourself back into your body. Everything feels hazy, too warm, too much. His grip in your hair is embarrassing in how quickly it clears your head, and he knows it. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice when he adds, “There she is.”Your hands scramble weakly against the sheets, trying to brace yourself. Johnny’s free hand skims down your hip, slow, deliberate, claiming its space like he owns it.“You’re really done?” he asks, not mocking—genuinely curious, though you can hear the challenge buried underneath. “Tapped out?” You nod, breath shaking. “I… I think so.” Johnny exhales a rough sigh against your shoulder, part annoyance, part admiration. “You kill me, you know that?” he mutters. “Absolutely wreck me.” The mattress dips as he shifts behind you, pulling you tighter against him. His forehead presses to the back of your neck—an unexpected moment of closeness that steals the rest of your air. Then the cigarette comes into view again, dangling lazily from his fingers. You can’t see his expression, but you can feel the grin when he murmurs, “And here I was thinking you might surprise me.” You tense, instinctively aware of the heat hovering too close to your skin. Johnny feels it—the way your breath hitches—and chuckles quietly. “Easy,” he says, brushing it just close enough to make goosebumps rise, but not touching. “I’m not gonna mark you again… not unless you ask.” Your voice barely works. “Johnny…” “Relax.” His tone softens, almost unexpectedly. “I got you.” He guides you back down to the mattress with slow, deliberate control, the kind that leaves no room for doubt or guessing. His hand slides from your hair to your back, pressing between your shoulder blades in a grounding way rather than a punishing one. “You gave me more than enough,” he mutters, almost to himself. “More than I expected.” The cigarette flicks away somewhere behind him. The room smells like smoke and sweat and the faintest hint of something gentler beneath his rough edges. Johnny settles over you, not demanding anything now, just holding, breathing against your skin, letting the adrenaline ebb out of his muscles. “Stay with me,” he says quietly. Not an order this time. A request.
PLEASE write more nam-gyu smut. anything is fine because i love that fine ass man
Sub!Namgyu Drabble!
Namgyu pants as he humps your leg desperately, sweat dripping down his chest as his tongue lolls out, drool dripping down his chin. Each time you pull the leash that is tightly clipped onto the collar around his neck, he whines and just humps quicker. “Fuck..fuck..need’to do this m’often..” he manages to get out. It wasn’t long before he was in between your legs, thrusting wildly, his face buried in your neck as he drools all over you. “You” PLAP. “Feel” PLAP. “So good!” PLAP, just before he cums inside you with a loud whimper. A whimper. You managed to make him whimper.
Warnings: smut!! Drabble, thanos calling the reader ‘dog’, Namgyu being mean :(
You were currently being held down by Thanos as Namgyu thrusted into you. You were a whining and moaning mess, clenching around Namgyu’s cock.
“Shit,” he says, “the little slut is squeezing me.” Thanos chuckles. “Look at how pretty she looks..” Thanos says. “Pretty? She’s nothing more than a slut.” Namgyu says with a smile on his face.
You try to object but as soon as you open your mouth Namgyu shoves a ringed finger down your throat. You choke around them, your eyes all tear and puffy, drool dripping down your chin.
You look at Thanos with pleading eyes, giving him a look as if asking him to help you. “Aw, is Namgyu being to mean?” He asks. You nod, gagging around Namgyu’s fingers.
Namgyu slaps you and pulls his fingers out of your mouth. He grabs your cheeks, making your lips pucker. “You should be lucky, because I can be wayyy meaner.” He speeds up, going as deep as he can go. “Gonna cum in you, make you my bitch.”
You squirm and Thanos holds you down. “Down, dog.” Thanos says. The two guys laugh. You whine and shake slightly, your legs giving out. Thanos grabs your hand and wraps it around his cock. “Stroke. Now.” You start to stoke him lazily, sobbing softly.
Namgyu grabs your hair, pulling it back. “Does that feel good?” He asks as he grinds into you. You nod pathetically. “Good girl.” He grins. You moan and stop stroking Thanos.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Thanos asks. He slaps your thigh. Your thigh jerks closed. “Oh, no you don’t.” Thanos opens your legs back up. “Keep them open for him.”
Namgyu continues to fuck into you. He shoves his fingers into your mouth again then pulls them out, rubbing them on your face.
“Cumming in this tight cunt..” Namgyu groans as he cums in your pussy. He pulls out, letting it drip out. “Look at that..” Thanos coos, taking 2 fingers and pushing the cum back into you.
You continue to sob, overstimulated. “Don’t cry, slut.” Namgyu says. “You’re mean, dude” Thanos says with a smirk on his face.
“Please…” you whine, reaching back and pushing at his pelvis. He’s been pounding into you for what feels like hours. You were on your stomach, hips pulled into the air. He grabs the back of your neck, pushing your face down into the pillow. You desperately squirm, trying to get him off you, even though it felt oh, so good. "Doll, you can take it, yeah? What do you say, wanna be a good girl" You reply with a whine, making him smile. He pounds into you harder and makes you cum for what feels like the 9th time tonight
Babe you disappeared just like your squid game hype😭. How are you doing?
I’m in a very deep state of depression rn and unfortunately don’t have the motivation to do anything. Hopefully in a couple weeks after state testing I’ll get back to writing ❤️
Crimson Lee @crimsonnsstuff - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag