݁- ,,rayne·˚ ༘

im a pervert. 🍰

[maho6any]

⋆. ̊ rayne's masterlist

Now Playing- Airplane Mode

Hello! I’m Rayne. I’m a 20 year old black writer, and I’m here to keep fangirl culture alive.

This will essentially serve as a dumping ground for short fics I write for fun in my free time. Mostly nsfw, purely self-indulgent. :) I am a CASUAL WRITER, as I have a full time job and a life outside of tumblr.

My writings consist of drabbles, and in my head, drabbles are 1k-3k words, and full oneshots with occasional part twos are 6k and up.

ktober pieces: ☾

posted works:

OT8: The 7 Deadly Sins Love Talk song mingi Roar Baby Roar Wrap Around Big Boy Watch me Writhe The Taste of Sleep Don't Be a Bully IKWYWHM Confess to Me Tidal Waves Talk to me Sweet Run ☾ Rules are Rules ☾ Tempered Glass Dollhouse choi san Moonshine Peaches Sugar and Smoke ⌖ Breathe ☾ Sweet Intoxication ☾ Feel It Father, I'm Sick Morning Dew Pillow Princess jung wooyoung Eat You Alive ☾ A Touch that Rots ☾ Breathe Me In: jeong yunho Snow Cream Whiskey Lullabye Oh Baby ☾ High Score Church Outfit Shameless kang yeosang Sweetness ☾ Well Deserved ☾ choi jongho Hands to Yourself ☾ park seonghwa Merlot Canvases Full of Lead ☾ Hot Boys and Xannies ☾ Rock the Boat kim hongjoong Smudged Lines Blades of Love ☾ Hang Up Your Heels Don't Be a Bully Party Monster Blue Banisters bang chan Sweet 'n Sour lee felix Spoil Me Silly

*More will eventually trickle in and be added as time goes on.

[maho6any]

i know why you wanna hate me

Song Mingi x F!Reader

summary: There's one rule. Never date your friend's ex. But it has never been this hard to stick to that rule until now. She leaves behind a man who can only make her look crazy for doing so. Lead singer and guitarist in a band that he commands with an intense patience that begs to be tested, Song Mingi is your greatest temptation, and your greatest nightmare. Whilst with your friend, all he seemed to do was test your last nerve. Cocky, whiny, and handsome, a dangerous package. After the breakup, you seem to run into each other more often, suspiciously so. Naturally, you should hate him, but as more questions about him beg to be answered with every interaction, you wonder if the feeling of finally wanting something for yourself should outweigh the only rule you've ever had the urge to break.

content: bsfs ex!mingi, smut, kinda angsty, fluff, baker!reader, denial, teasing, banter, takes place in fall, he's in a band, but it's not really the sole focus, passive!reader, haunted house, comedy, kinda morally grey mingi, he kinda sucks, arguments, pet names, encouragement, sweet mocking, teasing, passionate, vocal!mingi, fingering, biting, multiple positions, overstimulation, slapping, squirting, he fucks you while ur on the phone, guilt, mild sadist!mingi, pleasure dom!mingi, bittersweet ending, men aint shit, reader ain't shit either, lowkey nobody's the shit in here

wc: 11.5k

notes: yes i took the title from a limp bizkit song, yes this took 3 weeks to write because im so tired, no i did not proofread it, thats for suckers

tracklist: the percocet & stripper joint, magdelena, comfortable liar

Passivity. The acceptance of what happens, without active response or resistance.

That was the word your mother used in response to your question, “What else about me could you possibly want to change?”

“When are you gonna fight for something, (Name)? Something for yourself.”  

After that argument, you left her home in a hurry, making sure to slam the door as hard as your heart would let you. The leaves crackled under your feet as you walked angrily down the sidewalk, your footfalls melting into something softer the farther you got from the house.

 You stared at the miniature puddles and their orange and brown lilypads as you walked, the gloomy darkness of 6 pm sending a quiet cold down your neck. You walked to the closet sandwich shop, hands in your pockets where you pulled at the strings in them.

You walked inside, ordered your sandwich politely and quietly. You were the only customer.  When they put olives on it, after you had specifically asked them not to, you simply turned on your heel, sandwich in hand, and went home with a curt thank-you and a $ 3 tip in the jar.

You hated admitting your mom was right, so you decided not to. You won this argument in your head. While the overhead fan of your living room dusted you in a warm breeze, you picked the olives off your sandwich while you listened to your friend, Ji, talk her tongue off.

“And then he said that it “wasn’t a big deal.”’ You say that about literally everything. Is anything any kind of deal for you? Do you care about anything? Being nonchalant is not cute, plus-”

You slid an olive onto your pinkie finger like a flimsy little rubber ring, and grimaced at the hangnail it caught on. You nodded at the appropriate times, said “no way” when the moment called for it. A hardly practiced routine when it came to Ji, and the worn-out topic of her boyfriend.

You slid the olive off your finger and dropped it onto the pile that began to accumulate on the little green plate. You would never throw them away; some of the wildlife outside would be much more appreciative of it.

“And yeah, so I said it's over, and he didn’t even make a “deal” out of that! I’m so sick of him; if anything, I swore I saw him smile.”

You nodded drowsily, wiping the olive oil off your coffee table.

“Who would’ve thought…” You muttered with just the right amount of annoyance. It was only when she went silent for a moment that you actually processed the words that came from her mouth. Your eyes widened, and you grabbed your phone off the table. 

Something deep, deep inside you shifted, even if at that very moment, you had yet to notice the change.

“Wait, you finally did it?!” You exclaimed, staring at your friend's forehead on your screen. She angled the camera back down to show her face.

“What do you mean by finally?” she replies, chewing on the straw of her water bottle with a knit in her brow. You roll your eyes and set your phone up against the candle on the table. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” You deadpan, brushing off a ball of lint that fell from the ceiling fan and onto your lap. The warming scent of pumpkin bread wafted through your kitchen as the loaf baked slowly. The candlelight around your living room seemed to bend and bow to the autumnal wind that blew outside just out of the flames' reach,

Fall was always your favorite time of the year. It was quiet; it was comfortable. It was familiar. You did very well with familiarity.

“So does that mean you won’t be bringing him around anymore? I hope not.” You laugh to yourself and take a bite of your sub. “Let's get you on Hinge; you’re a bit of a serial monogamist.”

Ji raises an eyebrow and snorts in surprise. “First off, how do you even know about Hinge? I’ve never even seen you on a date. Secondly, Mingi and I were together for 3 years. That's not really something you just “move on” from.”

You shrug and smile. “I mean, you’ve done it before.”

“You don’t know what it feels like.” She snipped, and you decided then and there to shut your mouth. 

Her reaction only made you all the more curious.

It seemed to feel like a genuine loss to her, even though she initiated it angrily over the phone. You couldn’t have imagined it felt like much of a loss, going by the way she spoke about him on the regular. And you frankly had your own evidence.

Anytime she brought him around, it was like having your really, really fucking annoying brother on a family trip where everyone wants to relax and unwind, but he’s the only one who just can’t seem to get a clue.

“Aggravating in the hottest way” is the way Ji described him when they first got together, and you hated to agree. Yes, he was the worst, and in fact one of the loudest men you have ever met in your life, but you were not strong enough to deny the fact that he was not hard to look at.

Short, scruffy black hair that looked like he took to his bathroom mirror with kitchen scissors and a dream. Simple black gauges that were enough to tell you he liked a little fun. He was so broad, so big. Sometimes you’d catch yourself staring when Mingi leaned down to hug Ji. The way his shoulders would swallow her body behind them, the traps in his back flexing when he squeezed.

And maybe you liked the way he talked to you sometimes, how he’d tease you, and always begged to let him try every new recipe you had. That was the one thing that kept somewhat of a branch between you two: your baking.

The day that Ji brought home a tray of blondies that you had made, something between you two clicked into place. Between your love of cooking and his lust for sugar, a bridge was built. The only connection that could ever be allowed.

Ji was never much of a sweets person, so if she was leaving your home with a dessert, it was for Mingi, per his request. She never questioned it, and as a matter of fact, found it “cute.”

“I can’t bake worth a shit, so the poor boy’s not getting anything out of me, and you don’t really know anyone else who likes baked goods except yourself. It's a win-win situation!”

Ouch. But it was nice to have somebody around who appreciated your version of art. You catch yourself smiling and take another bite.”Listen, Ji, my condolences, but I’m very happy that I won’t have to hear you complain about him all the time anymore. I just gained 4 hours of my day back. I need to go finish my sandwich and celebrate”

You know this will make her laugh, and of course it does. She smacks her phone and rolls her eyes with a snort. “You bitch.” She giggles and sighs. 

“All right, I’ll let you go. Thanks for listening anyway; you always do.” She hangs up before you can respond, and something in your chest tightens. 

You were a good friend; she always told you that. Always willing to listen, always willing to lend a hand, always willing to bend, to break-

You stopped chewing, and your mother’s voice pinged in your head like a far-away dock light. 

Something for yourself. 

Your feet screamed at you to sit down, but you still needed to do some grocery shopping. After another grueling day in the bakery, every bone in your body felt like glass. So much mixing. But whilst people say not to mix work with pleasure, work was your pleasure, and you wanted to go home and bake, but this time, you could sit in your rolling stool and allow your legs to sleep.

Pumpkin Pecan Coffee Cake. You needed more eggs, pumpkin puree, and your usual vanilla paste. The new one you tried was beyond offensive.

The grocery store enveloped you in the sterile cold, the quiet chatter of passing shoppers, and the squeaks of their carts. Inconsolable children begging their insomniac parents for Halloween candy filled your ears as you made a beeline for the canned goods. You swiped your can of pumpkin off the shelf seamlessly and continued back to grab your eggs.

You never liked grocery stores; they make you anxious. You worked in one for 2 years, and with every passing shift, you had only dreamed of your inevitable end coming sooner than you had ever hoped for. Needless to say, you wanted to be in and out. With a dozen eggs tucked under your arm, you walked to the baking aisle, pausing in front of the little collection of vanilla extracts.

You saw your usual brand and sighed, but before you could grab it for yourself, a hand reached over your shoulder and took the last jar off the shelf. You literally coughed, and turned around, ready to bribe the owner of said hand, but what came out of your mouth was something entirely different. 

“Why are you here?” You groaned, and Mingi simply gave a once-over to the jar of vanilla paste and shrugged. 

“Shopping? What else?” The corner of his lip quirked up like he was fighting a grin. The black tanktop he wore did little to hide the absolute unit that he was, and his stupid smooth velvety voice made your heart kick.

“What could you possibly need that for? Give it back.” You reached for it, and he lifted his arm higher. 

“I can’t give it back to you, because you never had it in the first place.” He raised his eyebrow like a gotcha, and that urge to punch his lights out was reawakened inside of you.”

“Okay, smart alec. I really don’t have the patience for your middle school boy act, so give me my vanilla paste before I fuck your haircut up even more.”

His mouth widens; those stupid pink, puffy lips gasp. “First off, very rude of you to say that about my haircut; you know I got this professionally done.”

“Well, actually I don’t! Because if you told me, 90% of the time when you talk, I have you tuned out.” Lie.

Mingi hands you back the vanilla paste, but instead of letting go when you grab it, his hand latches onto yours. It's warm and rough; you can feel the calluses from all the guitar strumming he does.

“Please let me try your baking again!” He cries out, shaking your hand in his in mock plea. “It's been 3 weeks since Ji and I broke up, and I'm having withdrawal symptoms cause she’s not bringing me home your stuff anymore. I might go insane.”

You scoff and laugh in disbelief, but you feel an overwhelming, drowning sense of happiness that he was so desperate for baking that your eyes start to water. Frankly, it wouldn’t have even had to be him, but having someone so absolutely infatuated by your baking felt like a warm light in your chest.

“You’re my best friend's ex. Generally, I don’t think we should be interacting at all.” You begin to walk away, and of course, like some lost duck, he follows you. 

“C’mon, I’ll even pay! It’ll be purely transactional if it makes you feel better about yourself.”

You don't stop walking; in fact, you walk faster, but it’s not much of a difference for the all-leg man following close behind you. “If it makes me feel better about myself? What do I have to do with this? You and Ji were together for 3 years, and she seems pretty upset about the whole thing. My feelings have nothing to do with this.”

Mingi laughs and pulls a stray hair off the back of your sweater. “That’s funny because she broke up with me and seemed pretty content about it too.” He walks faster so he falls in stride with you, looking down at you while you continue forward to the registers. 

“Plus, us dating never stopped you from giving me food. Since when are us breaking up gonna stop you? You’re too nice.”

You bite your inner cheek and take a deep breath, because apparently people love telling you all about yourself lately.

“This isn’t me being nice, Mingi. It’s me being a good person.” It sounded high and mighty, and you hadn’t meant it that way. But were you really a good person?

“Making me sweet treats isn’t gonna turn you to a life of crime, (Name). I assure you.”

You hated the way he said your name every time. Like he was trying to taste every syllable and feel the sharp edges of every letter.

“I really wish you’d get back together; you hardly bother me as much.” Mingi smiles and stops in front of you, forcing you to stand in one spot.

“There were rules then; there are no rules now.” You didn’t notice it, but god was he taking you in.

His eyes stopped at every freckle on your face like connecting constellations; his gaze fell to where your hands nervously twist and untwist the jar of vanilla bean paste, evidence of previous oven burns puffed up on your delicate fingers.

“Rules?” You exclaim incredulously. “Since when have you been a rule follower? I wasn’t aware there were more rules.”

Mingi sighs and drags his big, veiny hand down the bottom half of his face. “You won’t believe how hard it’s been for me.”

That’s not a good thing to say, nor a good thing for someone like you to be aware of. You huff and walk around him, and he follows.

“Listen, clearly you’re not an upstanding guy, and Ji broke up with you for a valid reason I’m very, very sure. I want nothing to do with it.” Lie lie lie.

“I’ll let you try my stuff if you promise; it remains purely transactional. Full trays are 15.” You began scanning your items, and you hardly noticed the way he seemed to light up.

“You’re the best, actually. Can I have some kind of mutual friend discount?”

You groan and bag your stuff. “There is nothing mutual about us, Mingi. You and Ji are not together. You and I are not friends. We shouldn’t.”

Mingi grabs your bag before you can, and you turn to look at him, and the look on his face makes you freeze. Confusion? Frustration? 

“Why not?”

Why not?

Your home seemed empty, and you knew you were right. Ji, being the serial monogamist she is, has been on date after date after date, trying to fill the hole. She hadn’t been over to your place in a while, and it was starting to feel sterile.

You liked your alone time; it was more important to you than most things. Sometimes during the fall, however, one more laugh in the house would be nice. Maybe it’ll help the candles burn longer, and make the apple pies taste better.

It had been weeks since they broke up, and now and then she’d bring up the fact that she missed him. Your only response was always “You broke up with him.” To which she would nod, gather her senses, and start talking about the date she went on the day before.

Eventually, the calls came less, and you started to believe that Mingi truly was the bridge that held your friendship together.

It frustrated you. He cannot be important in any shape or form.

You folded the dry ingredients for the first loaf of bread slowly. Staring at the wet concrete outside your kitchen window. It looked cold outside; the bare trees bowed to the wind as it blew. The house was warm and quiet, and it reminded you of the things you work so hard for.

This house, your independence, your job. You fought for things. You don’t just let anything or anyone happen. 

A knock at your door pulled you from your deep thoughts, and you set your spatula down in the bowl. 

“Mingi, get off my porch. I haven’t even put the first loaf in the oven yet. And who told you that you could just show up to my home willy-nilly?”

You stood in your doorway, arms crossed, your cute little sage green apron covered in white powder and pumpkin splotches.  You glared at Mingi, who stood on your porch, his hair a wet mess from the rain, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I wanted to try your stuff.” He all but pouted, but then a sick little grin crossed his face slowly as he suddenly began shaking his head back and forth like a wet dog, splashing you with rainwater.

You gasp and shut your eyes as water splashes all over your face and apron, and you turn to walk into your kitchen. “You dick!” You shout as you wipe your face off with a towel, and by the time you’re done drying off, Mingi is standing in your kitchen, staring at the themed decor on your walls.

“You never let me in your kitchen when we came over.” He mumbles to himself, reaching out and touching the hanging wisteria above the counter. 

You purse your lips and smack his hand with a roll of paper towels. “And for good reason, look, you’re dripping all over my goddamn kitchen, you’re gonna contaminate my batter, get out.”

Mingi laughs and can do nothing but walk out as you all but push him to the living room. “You sound like my mom.”

You walk away and resume your spot in the kitchen as Mingi watches you through the pass-through. The quiet sound of your speaker bleeds out a song by The Smiths as you pour the batter into a smooth layer in the pan. He watches you and says not a word for the longest moment you’ve seen him manage, staring at you. Hard. He watches the way your hands flex as you smooth the batter down.

The involuntary way your eyebrows furrow, so you look a little melancholy doing the thing you love the most.

 “Is it done yet?” He all but blurts. And you do not disguise your annoyance.

“If I were your mother, I would have you chopping walnuts right about now.”

He all but lights up. “I can do that! Where’s the cutting board? I wanna help you.” He’s moving before you can give more direction, and you nearly lose your skin when he pulls the large butcher knife out of the holder.

He chops walnuts next to you as you prep the next batter batch. You both hum to the songs that shuffle in your playlist as you work, and you realize that this is the kinda noise you missed in your home. The quiet kind.

“Do I get a discount now?” Mingi sings hopefully, and he groans when he hears you snort.

Standing next to you, he can smell you, see how the base of your neck disappears behind your apron. He wants to wipe the flour off your eyebrow. 

You could have kicked him out by now; he came over genuinely believing you’d turn him away the moment you laid eyes on him. But even after he splashes water on you, gets your kitchen all messy and whatever else he dares to bother you with, you never force him to go home. 

You let him come in. Not passively. You wanted him to stay. This was you wanting something. 

When you feel like you’d have just about enough of Mingi burning holes into your face, you turn and hold out the filled baking trays to him.

“Put these in the oven, won’t you?” He takes the trays in your hand, and you can’t help but notice how easily his hands swallow them in a firm grip compared to how you had to hold them flat on your palms.

“Anything for you, baby.” He winks, and your brow hardens.

“Don’t do that.” But he’s already turning and sliding the pans into the oven, a burst of warmth flooding the kitchen before it’s cut back off with a clank, the door shutting softly.

“Do what?” He hums, and you feel smaller as he stands in your kitchen, looking at you in a way you couldn’t pin down.

“Talk to me like this-“ you gesture between you two. “-is more than it is.

Mingi rolls his eyes at you and throws up his arms. “C’mon, don’t do that. You always do this.”

“Oh, now I’m doing something?” You laugh incredulously, enlighten me, Mingi. I am simply-“

“You are simply doing the same thing that you’ve been doing for the last 3 years. Denying. Deny deny deny- it’s always you exempting yourself from every exam.”

Your brain ticked, and you had something to say. You had many things to say, but words wouldn’t come. Instead you stood and listened to Mingi talk.

“You’re smart, much smarter than Ji. I know I’m not subtle. It’s been 3 weeks since her and I broke up. I’ve been wanting to do it for 3 years. 3. But I’ve gotten to know you in those few years. And I know that you don’t do jack shit for yourself. I knew that if I split with Ji, I would most likely never see you again. Because if anything about the way you liked to sneak looks at me-“

“Don’t make yourself out to be some kind of saint!” You bite back, and you could feel two things. One. Anger. How dare he think he can speak for how you feel. It pissed you off. And 2? Never see you again? He wants to keep seeing you. You.

Something, embarrassingly enough, explodes in your stomach, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of everything about the man in your kitchen. Clearly the thermostat being at 74 is too hot for him cause he’s sweating a little; his face is flushed from frustration, something else too.

His eyes won’t stop moving all over you, like he’s also trying to read every twitch of your limb and every shift in your foot. He takes a step closer, and you step back until the kitchen counter nudges you.

“I’m not. I’m telling you I'm not, (Name.) I’m telling you that while I’ve been with my girlfriend for 3 years, I’ve been thinking about having you the whole time. Clearly I’m not the best role model. And if you think it’s so bad to indulge in your own wants now and then, then maybe you shouldn’t be such a saint.”

You pause; your voice is quiet next. Like you’re unsure of your next words. Like they’re not what you really mean. Autocorrect, so to speak. “That’s… not okay.”

Mingi’s voice drops low under his tongue, his eyes set on you, soft, yet stern enough to want you to move, closer to him or further back; you couldn’t tell. Your skin tingled when he stepped a little closer, craning his head down to speak into your hair softly. “Never said it was.”

He smells good. You were eye level with his throat. You remembered how Ji would always disappear when Mingi stood close in front of her. You wondered if in that moment you’d look the same.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, while I wait for the treats to be done, I’m going to go outside and have a cigarette because I want one right now. And I pursue the things that I want.” He fishes his lighter out of his pocket and turns on his heel, walking out of your kitchen and leaving a faint trail of Jo Malone wood sage and sea salt.

You stare at the back of his head as he disappears out your front door, standing in the middle of your kitchen in disbelief. 

He doesn’t end up coming back, surprisingly enough. You spend the rest of that night bagging up the coffee cake and staring at nothing in particular. When the kitchen’s cleaned up, and the roar of quiet thunder shakes your home, you check your phone to see a message from the man of the previous hour.

“Think about it.” He had sent it. You looked up at the only other text message he ever sent you from 2 years prior.

“Can you make a tray of cookies for my band?’

You hadn’t ever responded to it, but you remembered when it happened. You made peppermint Meltaways and brought them to one of Mingi’s late-night shows. You had shown up to the venue, loud and crawling with people. Concerts were not your kind of thing; you liked the quiet and the predictable. Concerts were neither of those things. And out of the two, Mingi was the most unpredictable.

You showed up with the cookies in a tupperware container tucked under your arm, weaving through hot crowds of people as you tried to make your way backstage to drop them off for the band and then leave.

Mingi spotted you, noticing your panicked rush and the look of loss on your face as you grimaced every time someone sweaty bumped too close to you. He walks up behind you and swipes the container from your grasp. You turn, ready to yell. He watches your anger fall to relief, and something inside of him twists seeing you seem so grateful to see you.

Mingi reaches out and pulls you into a hug, one that you melt into deceptively easily, taking a big whiff of his scent as he wraps you up in him. “It's good to see you, thank you for coming,” he quietly shouts the words against your temple over the drone of the openers. You feel his lips against your skull.

Your skin shivers, feeling his voice against the skin of your face, feeling his arms holding you close to him. When he lets you go, he looks down at you. The look he gives you makes you freeze, because he’s never looked at you like that before. 

You clear your throat and physically have to restrain yourself from reaching out and pulling him back in, clasping your hands together tightly and biting your inner cheek. “Well, there are your cookies,” you shout shakily, and you feel like you see his smile soften at the sound of your voice.

Somebody damn near steps on your foot, and you’re pulled from your selfish little world of wondering about your best friend’s boyfriend.  You shake your head and begin to turn away. “Now I need to get out of here before I start screaming.”

Mingi grins and opens the container, snatching a cookie and stuffing it in his mouth. “Aww. c’mon,” he whines, his voice muffled. “Don’t you want to stay and watch us play?”

You laugh and turn back to him, staring at the peppermint on his lips. “Not even Ji likes coming to concerts. Too many sweaty men everywhere; I think I’ll pass.” Gripping the strap of your purse tighter, you wince when somebody shoulders into you.

Mingi’s eyes set hard, and he frowns. “Open your eyes, dipshit.” He shouts at the man who ran into you, and his voice booms across the bustling crowd; you could feel his words through the floor. You cough and smile awkwardly. 

“Well, regardless of whether you chose to stay or not. I appreciate you bringing these to us; the boys and I are your biggest fans when it comes to your baking. I’ve seemed to pull them down with me when it comes to sugar intake.” He puts another cookie in his hand, and you deadpan at him.

“I only made a dozen, y’know. Don’t eat them all.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face, and Mingi only shrugs and adjusts the many chains dangling off his strong neck.

“They’ll get at least one, don’t worry.” Mingi smiles back and closes the container with a click. “These are mostly for me, right?” he wiggles his eyebrows and bites his bottom lip, waiting for you to play into him.

You shake your head, and you hope that the LED lights that make the keychains on your purse a neon yellow hide the weirdly flattered look on your face. 

“Yes, Mingi,” you sigh dejectedly with a smile, looking past him and at the mess of musical equipment and the moving bodies on stage, the kind of rapid movement that hints at the show starting any moment. “I made them all for you, and only you. I think you’d better get going.”

You pointed behind him, and he turned his head to see his fellow bandmates waving him over hurriedly and shouting something while pointing to the cookies he held. Mingi winces, and you could see his shoulder lift as he shouts an apology to them. He turns back to you with an apologetic look and starts to back away slowly.

“Gotta be super cool on stage now, sorry. Thank you. Sucks you won’t stay.” He pouts, faux sadness in his pathetic slumped posture. He tries to make you feel guilty, giving you those stupid, glazed puppy eyes that always had Ji tripped up.

“Go!” You snap, having none of it. “I will put laxatives in your next batch.” He leaves, not without teasing you for the promise of another batch of baked goods, waving the cookies at his friends while he bounds on stage. You didn’t stay, because you meant what you said. The place made you feel incredibly out of place. But you might have stayed for one or two songs. You stood at the back by the entrance, thinking you were out of sight, but Mingi, of course, was watching you damn near the whole time.

When you finally walk out of the front doors, Mingi’s eyes fall back down to the pedals on stage. He feels the dents and grooves of the guitar strings on his fingertips for the first time. It hurts. The stage lights on his skin feel hot, and suddenly he’s sucked back into the space he’s in.

He looked at you the whole time he played. He muttered a curse under his breath as he tuned up for the next song. As the music swelled in that hot, crowded room once again, he temporarily set you aside as he lost himself in the sound. Mingi wasn’t sure if he could continue to be a good man as long as he had access to you. Then again, he’s never really been a “good” man.

Ji always called him selfish, but he doesn’t think that way. There was something about the fact that he can’t have you that makes the pull so much stronger. He wonders if he ever could have you; would the urge go away? Would the riskless accessibility to you dim his interest in you? It's a hard thing to think about, and the last thing Mingi wanted to do was use you.

I mean, that’s at least what he thinks.

It was weird; Mingi made texting you a regular thing. The two lone messages from him that collected cobwebs in your contacts slowly disappeared to somewhere beyond the screen the more you talked. Pictures of recipes you tried, or wanted to try. Snippets of his songs and samples he wanted your opinion on.

You made the effort to give vague, non-inspiring feedback. “Good. Very loud. Catchy.”

He always responded to your pictures of pastries with the same thing. “Omw.”

You never invited him, never asked him to try the things you made. He would just tell you, then come over. You could text him no. Tell him to leave you alone. Block him. You would just let him. Not because you wanted feedback, or an extra mouth for taste.

You liked the noise he brought with him. And the humor. And maybe the soft, smoky smell of him, or the brushes of his hands against your waist in the small confines of your kitchen. Or the way he practically begs you to let him have the whisk, you cave, and you stare at him licking the stupid fucking thing for 30 seconds straight.

You weren’t subtle either, and Mingi had come to a semi-stable conclusion. 

You would never do it for yourself, so somebody’s gotta do it for you.

“-you staring at?” 

He blinks and grins at the annoyed look on your face, coming back to earth after some rather…deep thoughts. Hypocrite, was all he could think.

He turns away and resumes rolling the cookie dough into neat little spheres. “Sorry, what was the question again?”

“I said there’s a Halloween festival I’m catering this weekend. I’ll have a table set up by the haunted house, if you wanna swing by and try anything.”

Mingi harumphs and rolls the doughball in the bowl of sugar. “That’s gonna drive away business; haunted neighbors don't make for a good investment.”

You can’t help the stupid expression that flashes on your face, and you laugh unexpectedly. “Um, actually the haunted house is the main event. Who goes to a Halloween event and doesn’t go to the haunted house?”

Mingi shrugs. “Normal people.” So he's a scaredy-cat.

He turns to you and narrows his eyes. “I know what you’re thinking.”

You bite back a smile and grab your purple colored whipped frosting. “I wasn’t thinking anything.” You set it next to the cooled first batch of cookies. “I just thought I should let you know I’d be there this weekend.”

Not the desserts. You.

He doesn’t say anything, and you hate to admit it made your stomach feel weird. You quickly change the subject. 

“Could you help me frost these? And unwrap the chocolate-”

“Bring those pumpkin cream cheese cookies, and I will have no choice but to stop by.” He smiles and picks up the delicate bar of chocolate you bought, and you watch as his big, rough hands gently unwrap the candy bar.

That weird feeling goes away, even if it's just the desserts he’s excited about. He’s willing to stop by, and to something deep inside of you that you weren’t willing to acknowledge, was more than happy with that thought.

The festival was swarming with people, and countless people would run out screaming from the haunted house, only to immediately gravitate to your cute little pastry table. Apple cider cake, fig almond cake, pecan pie bars and of course the pumpkin cream cheese cookies.

Orange, purple, and green lights and lanterns provided enough ambient lighting to help everyone navigate around the grounds, booths of carnival games, face painting, and homemade crafts. You sat at your table, a steady flow of customers keeping you tied up and busy. The food was flying off the trays at an alarming rate, and you kicked yourself for the huge smile that broke out on your face when you saw Mingi approaching your table.

The first thing you noticed was the way he seemed to shrink in on himself anytime a scare actor walked a little too close, or if the speakers on the outside of the haunted house screeched a little too loud for his liking. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Only crazy people put themselves through things like this,” he grumbles, swiping a pumpkin cookie off the tray. You roll your eyes and smile softly, taking the money from the person in line and packaging their pastry for them.

“You have to pay for that, y’know- thank you! Have a good one!” You wave at the person, and as they walk away, you turn to Mingi. “I didn’t say anything about them being free.”

“Oh come on!” he exclaims, licking a crumb off the corner of his lip. “I’ve been giving you free labor in the kitchen for weeks, and I can’t have one for compensation?”

Your face twists into one of humor, and you poke his chest. “You come into my kitchen unannounced, and frankly, all you do is dust my entire house with flour. I can’t really say that's much help.”

He shoves the rest of his cookie in his mouth and grabs a napkin off your table. “You say that, but you never told me to leave.”

Your eyebrow furrows, and you reach under the table and grab a sign sitting on the surface.

Be back soon!

“I’m going into the haunted house cause I’m a “crazy” person, and I’m gonna have fun. If you would like to tag along, this is me finally inviting you.”

Mingi freezes in place, and you walk around him and towards the entrance to the haunted house. He watches you walk away, and he finds his feet moving before his brain can tell him no.

“Please don’t make me do this,” he whines, walking close behind you as you stop at the entrance to show the attendant your wristband. He scans yours, then Mingi’s.

“I'm not making you do anything; you are more than welcome to go do anything else with your time.”

“I literally came here for you, so why would I go do anything else?”

You purse your lips like your body just took a physical hit from his words, and you take a deep breath as you step into the building. “I told you the main event was the haunted house.”`

He shouted at every door slamming, every scare actor that just barely looked his way. He tried to get in front of you a couple times, to give the illusion he was protecting you. When in fact he was just raising his own blood pressure, and he finally resorted to cowering behind you throughout the whole thing.

“This is the biggest fucking house ever. How much longer?” Mingi whimpers when a scare actor dressed as a mummy just barely brushes his arm.

“This is the best day ever, I think. I’ve never seen you so helpless.” You laugh when he nearly trips on a plastic skull glued to the floor.

“This might be the meanest you’ve ever been to me.” He playfully tugs on the hood of your jacket, and you shake him off.

“Keep complaining, and I’ll start running, and I’ll leave you in here by yourself.”

This time Mingi moves to stand firm in front of you, looking down at you with a serious expression. “Don’t you dare.”

Of course, you dared. You grinned, juked him, and began running through the house to reach the end. You scream wildly as Mingi runs after you, and the adrenaline of him chasing you ends up being more effective than the actual scares themselves.

He follows you so close you can feel his footsteps on your heels, and just as you leap through the exit, he scoops you up in his arms by your waist and lifts you into the air.

You squeal, and your hands fly down to hold on to his arms that he has locked around your stomach. You laugh loudly, and Mingi lowers his voice to that playful, teasing voice parents do when they tickle their kids relentlessly.

“You think you can run from me, huh? Hm?” his fingers dig into your stomach, and it makes your skin tingle excitedly. Mingi spins you round one time before setting your feet back on the ground, his hands lingering on your waist a little longer than necessary.

As you regain your composure, Mingi watches you the entire time. His eyes are glued to the way your hands ghost over your stomach, like you were still searching for his touch there. Your smile fades from wildly excited to something more content, and the purple lantern to the right bathes your face in a soft violet.

And it's now he’s realized that this is the most alive he’s ever seen you. Anytime he did see you, it seemed like a fleeting, non-canon interaction. If he saw you, it was only because of Ji. You were an extension of her while they were together, and now that it was no more, he could fully appreciate you at your most, when you’re not being held back by the existence of a side character.

You asked more questions; you stood up for yourself more. You did things for yourself, even if it wasn’t much. It was a step in the right direction.

But something in your head flashes, and your smile drops. Mingi’s does as well, at the change in your mood. He can sense it.

“Don’t start,” he groans, and you turn your head to glare at him. You raise your eyebrow in disbelief, and your hand waves in question.

“Don’t start? Start what, Mingi? What was I going to say? Because for some odd reason, I can’t help but feel that you've got this really weird complex going on that’s got to do with fixing me.”

You’re not really sure where you pulled that from, and it could have been your terrible habit of self-sabotaging. Did you really feel that way, or are you trying to come up with a reason as to why this can’t be okay?

It's been months since their breakup. Ji still talks about him. She says she misses him. You see him almost every day, and she has no idea. You feel terrible. But when you’re in a room with him, it just feels right. And you hated that it felt so right.

Mingi doesn’t respond. What if that’s what he really is doing? Trying to fix you? That wasn’t his intention, and really he can’t remember what his intention was to begin with. To try your baked goods, to befriend you? To fuck you? All of the above would do well enough, but Mingi couldn’t write on paper what he wants, and that might become an issue.

When he didn’t say anything in response to your accusation, something heavy settled in your chest.

“Listen,” you start, and you take a step back from him. “Ji is still my friend; we still talk. She talks about you still. Do you see what I’m saying here? I’ve told you numerous times, we shouldn’t.”

“Just because we shouldn’t doesn’t mean we can’t. And to be quite honest, you keep telling me what you should or shouldn’t do, but you won’t tell me what you want to do. I don’t love Ji; I want nothing to do with her. I don’t want her. ” Mingi didn’t think before he spoke this time, so maybe his words were a true reflection of what he really wanted. And that confused him.

“Okay, so do you want me then?” You blurt out, accidentally kicking a rock against his shin. The laughter of people filing out of the house, the faint music playing from a nearby booth. The whir of a cotton candy machine. Anything but a response filled your ears.

You ignored him; you walked away, back to your quiet little table. You didn’t turn to make sure he was following you. 

When you stood behind the table and took the sign off the surface, Mingi was no longer in sight.

Was it the idea of each other that pulled you together? Was it the mystery of not knowing that made you two want to find out?

You sold out of your pastries that night, all except for the pumpkin cookies. You had made 3 dozen, just so there would be enough for him to bring home for himself. 

He only ate one.

 

You didn’t see each other for 2 weeks. After neither one of you could tell each other what you wanted, a quiet distance was built. No song snippets, no new recipes. Even Ji stopped talking about him, almost like she could sense the bridge crumbling between you two. The one that she built.

You found yourself wishing she would talk about him more, so you could hear about the stupid ways he's broken guitars, or the annoying way he pouts to get what he wants. It was your vague glimpse of him after your short argument at the festival.

It felt stupid to have so many feelings about him, especially with how conflicting they were. You two weren’t supposed to have anything to begin with, and just when something began, it crumbled just as quickly. This must be karma.

You hated that you thought like this, that every decision you made would somehow, someway count against you. You hated that it was true that you never let yourself have the things you wanted. You hated that your mother was right.

Want, you wanted Mingi. You wanted to hate him; it was the only logical thing. He was looking at you while dating your best friend; why would you want somebody like that? He could do the same thing to you that he did to Ji.

“I think I just need to fuck him out of my system.” Ji traded her iced chai for your sweet potato latte, humming when the taste hit her tongue. You nearly choked on your donut.

You two hadn’t had breakfast on a day off in a long while, and you felt like a day with her might sober you up to Mingi. However, now she was talking about him, and you felt all your progress come crashing down.

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” You reply, reaching over and grabbing her chai to try.

“Well, like, clearly I’m still thinking about him. We hadn’t fucked for a week before we broke up, and I think it’d be a good way to tie up loose ends.” Tie up loose ends, and you could see the shit-eating grin in her eyes thinking about having Mingi on top of her again.

You tried a question. “Do you think he’d still want to?” You know the answer to that.

“I don’t see why not. He didn’t seem the most upset after we split, but he’s never been one to sleep around. I bet he’ll be up for it.” Oh, you bet.

Your phone chimes, and you look down and see the man of the hour. 

please. can we talk?

9:33 am

Your heart hammers, and you quickly shut off your phone, taking a sip of your drink. “Do whatever you feel you need to, girl; I’ll support you.” The words taste bitter, and the coffee washes down with a bad taste.

You went home that night, after a long day of window shopping and Hinge profiles Ji shoved in your face. While it's true you mostly enjoyed yourself hanging out with Ji, you realized something. 

Almost every time you were with Ji, Mingi was there too. He was always there, even if it was in the background, awkwardly staring at the floor in the lingerie store. Without him, Ji was just… not as engaging. Mingi kept her from complaining, kept her from being rude to Ulta employees.

You were pissed all over again. Does he really have to be such a major contributor to everything in your life? Your pastries, your relationships, your emotional turmoil. It was getting unbearable.

You pull out your phone, and you see the message he sent at 9:33 that morning.

Come over.

9:21 pm

You set your phone on your counter and drop your head in your hands, rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. You wanted to see him. So for the first time in 6 months, you invited him over.

He texts you back immediately.

can’t drive. drunk. come over pls

9:22pm

And his address follows. You don’t hesitate. You hop in your car, not even bothering to go see how you look in the mirror. For the first time, you didn’t stop to think about it, and you just moved. The drive was quiet, and your foot tapped impatiently against the floor of your car as you drove.

The streetlights cast dusty yellow streaks over the roads pulling into his driveway, behind his very familiar 1994 Camaro.

Getting out of your car, the cold nipped at your fingers as you walked up to his door. A small, simple home. It was too quiet for someone like him.

You knocked twice and waited quietly, and the nervousness began creeping into your belly again, but when the door swung open and there he stood, it was replaced with relief.

His hair was an awful mess, a little longer and scruffier. His cheeks were a soft pink, and his eyes fell on you greedily. He held onto the door frame like it was keeping him upright, and he didn’t smile, but only pouted.

“Hi,” you whispered. You didn’t know what you were going to do next, but he went ahead and made the decision for you. His arm slipped around your waist and pulled you through the doorway.

It shuts with a thud, followed by your back pressing against it, Mingi having you closed in against the fragrant wood. Tall, his shoulders hunched as his hands came around and held the backs of your hips in a steadying grip, pushing your head back against the door as he kissed your mouth open with a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry, (Name),” he whispers into your mouth. “I’m sorry, you know better than me that I want you. Let me have you, please.”

Your hands find the back of his neck where you anchor yourself there, your nails scraping against the hair at his nape. He breathes heavily, like he’s on the verge of losing it. His eyebrows are knit, and his gaze is pleading. His teeth nip at your jaw, his kisses leading up to your ear, where he can whisper to you.

“Let’s be selfish for once.” He begs, and coming from him, it might not mean much. But to you, it meant something. You could have him for yourself, and you weren’t feeling that pit inside of you about it. You were feeling want, need, and the desire to let him do whatever he wanted to you.

“Okay,” you reply breathlessly, like it was suddenly coming to you that it’ll be alright. 

Mingi backs away, and you watch his eyes dart all over your face, reading your expression. “Yes?” he confirms simply. You feel one hand slip away from your hip and up your back slowly, under your shirt, the warmth of his skin spreading about your body. 

“Yes,” you confirm back, a little more desperate this time as his hand finds your shoulder blades. “Please.” 

Mingi turns your body around so your front is pressed against the door. In that swift moment, you could catch a momentary glance of his home, but not nearly enough before he has you overwhelmed.

His back presses against yours; his hand comes up and grips the front of your throat, gently pulling your head back over his shoulder; his other hand slides down your stomach and into your sweatpants.

He taps his fingers against the side of your neck, his nose nudged against your cheek, his breathing now steadier as he slides his hand into your panties. Without an inch of space to speak for, Mingi moves his foot between yours and forces your legs open more.

“Spread more. Like that.” His words are clipped and heavy, and this might be the most impatient you’ve ever seen him. You whimper, his fingers gliding through the wet mess only he’s managed to pull out of you, and the hand on your throat squeezes tighter, a very low growl vibrating against your upper back.

He kisses your shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your neck while his middle and ring lightly flick against your clit. Such a light, teasing motion that sends your knees shaking every time. You’re so sensitive. 

“This is years of tension, baby.” He mutters against your face, his hand gently starting to stroke up and down your neck. His fingers spread your pussy open beneath your panties, and even though neither of you can see it, you feel so embarrassed.

“Mmhm, we gotta get it out.” Mingi keeps his thumb on your clit, your arms reaching back and gripping his shirt when he slowly slips a finger inside of you. You bite your tongue and moan softly, his warm words on your skin making the warmth in your belly expand to your legs. “I’m gonna get it out, I promise.”

His hand stops at the base of your throat, and you feel his thumb and middle finger press down on those soft spots on the side, and the fuzzy feeling that wraps its way around your skull only makes your cunt drool down his wrist even more.

It's thick, rough, and slow. You close your eyes and just feel the soft encouragement he speaks against your cheek. The languid, curling drag of his finger against your gspot makes your legs tremble, and Mingi only presses his body further against yours, another finger pushing its way inside of you.

“Doesn’t that feel nice?” He coos, playfully squeezing your throat in short intervals. “It feels so good to get what you want, hm?”

You can hear the iteration in his tone, the implication that he’s also finally getting what he wants. His fingers sink a little deeper into your cunt, and his palm brushes against your clit with every curl.

It was getting hard to hold yourself up on your legs; soft moans falling from your lips. You were addicted to the smell of him and the feeling of his hands on your body, and this was precisely one of the reasons this wasn’t a good idea. Addiction does run in the family after all.

The thoughts are knocked out of your head when you feel his thumb slip past your lips and into your mouth. Your eyebrows unfurrow, and you feel his fingers stop stroking. Instead, they press hard against your g-spot and circle there continuously. It felt so good; suddenly nothing else seemed important.

“Stop thinking.” Mingi purrs against your ear, stroking up the length of your tongue slowly. Drool slips down your lips, and you find yourself taking stifling breaths, the pressure he holds against your sweet spot purely wicked.

Hard, and gentle all at once, it's like he’s forcing the orgasm out of you. Unable to move or run away from it, he keeps the pressure there like some kind of torture, and it makes every nerve in your body feel like it's been grazed.

“You’re right there; I feel you, baby. Cum for me and I’ll give it to you, okay?” He moans against your throat for you, pushing you closer and closer to where he wants you. “We’ve been so patient.”

The thumb in your mouth slips out, smearing saliva across your lips as his hand moves down to grab the underside of your thigh, lifting your leg against the door to spread you even wider. His fingers don’t move faster; they press harder and slower, filling you with a kind of blissful pressure that was nearly painful.

Your hands splay flat against the door, bracing yourself against it as Mingi fingerfucks you to the point of tears, unable to find oxygen as he talks you through your orgasm. The hand holding your thighs squeezes the soft flesh there, and his moans shift into something more desperate, his fingers gently slipping out of you.

Your wetness clings to him; he teases your clit with a couple of curt slaps, and your body curls in on itself. Mingi’s mouth falls open as he spins your body around, sliding his fingers into his mouth. 

“Walk for me, baby, it's the last thing you’re gonna have to do.” He grabs your hand and leads you away from his living room, down the dark hallway and into his bedroom. He doesn’t shut the door, and instead pushes you back until you fall into the tangled mess of navy blue sheets.

He’s on top of you immediately, his hands holding you under your arms and pushing you back until your hips are on the mattress. He kisses you everywhere: your collarbones, down your arms, the skin where your legs meet your hips.

His room is dark, and you can hardly see past his shoulders, casting a dark shadow on your body while he lifts your hoodie, bunching it up above your tits. Sliding your sweatpants down your legs, his palms press down on your thighs, holding them spread open against his mattress.

He's all over, not a moment to rethink, not a moment to assume he wasn’t interested. He was on you like he was hungry.

Mingi watches his fingers sink into your flesh, and even with the thickness of them, his hands still look giant against your legs. While one hand slides your soaked panties to the side, his other unclips the belt on his jeans, palming himself through his underwear as he stares at the slick that drips from you.

He leans over your body and cages you in once again, and you can feel the thick heat of his dick against your cunt. His chest presses against yours, his hands keeping a firm hold on your thighs so you can’t even think of running from him.

“I hate that I gotta hold you down, baby. But you’re so fussy, you won’t stay still.” He doesn't hate it, and in fact it only makes him harder knowing he can keep you in one place so easily. 

Your throat bobs when Mingi starts to move his hips, so slow you could feel every vein against your pussy lips. His lips mouth praises about how good and warm you feel against your shoulder and neck, playful bites as he coats himself in your slick.

Then, your phone rings. 

Your entire body freezes; you can’t see who’s calling, the glowing device vibrating just out of reach on his mattress. Mingi does not stop; he keeps moving. And you feel your heart drop at the grin on his face.

“Guess who’s calling.” He sings against your throat, dragging his tongue up to your jaw.

You watch in bewilderment as his hand pulls away from your thigh, smacking it hard enough to drag a yelp out of you, and reaches over, pressing the answer button. 

He quickly covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, then sinks his cock deep into you in one powerful thrust. Your groan comes out muffled under his palm, and he moves it away just as a voice on the phone begins. He's fat, and heavy and curved, and you feel like you just might lose it.

“(Name)! Are you busy? I need your opinion.” Ji’s familiar voice fills your ear, mixing with the shaky groans Mingi lets out, your cunt squeezing around him so tight it makes his mouth fall open against your ear. 

You force the most normal voice you can manage, and Mingi takes this as the perfect moment to move. “Yeah, w-what's up?” Holding open your thighs, he leans back and cranes his head to the side, staring down at where his dick disappears inside of you and reappears as slow as he’s able to manage.

Your cunt flexes to let him in, so thick, a pretty pink that fills up so good it's pushing against your stomach. Your eyes widen, and your hand fist the sheets, and Mingi’s shaky, deep moans permeate every fiber of your being.

“So if I do end up fucking him, if I end up making it a habit, is that really a bad thing?” You bite your bottom lip and try your very best to hold back every noise Mingi tried to drag out of you. You watched his little micro expression shift and change with every stroke into your pussy, and how when he found an angle that you seemed to like, he’d smile and start to fucking you just a little harder.

“Ya’ll talking about fucking me?” Mingi murmurs to you, bullying you with a hard, long thrust that forces a squeak out of you. His eyes pull away from your cunt and hold onto your gaze, pushing your thighs down further into his mattress. “Bad girls…”

“I told you, do whatever you want…” Your voice was shaky, and it was hard to mask. Mingi laughs at you and lets off of your thighs, gathering your legs together and draping your feet over his shoulder. His cock sinks deeper into you, his fat tip nudging deep enough to touch the back of your throat.

Keeping his eyes lasered on you, he holds your legs over his left shoulder, pressing the softest of kisses against your ankles, down your calves… He smiles when your eyes roll as he angles his hips up a little more, easing into a steadier, heavier pace. You feel every inch of his strokes inside of you, and you could see Mingi’s eyelids drooping a little when your cunt flutters around him.

“I’m just saying like, does that make me a bad person? Like I’m sure he’s just getting over me, and it’d be rude to just show up and ask to fuck a few out, y’know?”

It's infuriatingly hot the way Mingi’s smile only grows the more his ex-girlfriend talks, and he faux pouts at you, fucking into you just hard enough you can’t keep your eyes on him for longer than a couple seconds. “C’mon, answer her, sweetheart. Does that make her a bad person?”

He laughs in disbelief and moves your legs so they're spread on either side of his body, so he can lean down and press his lips against your ear, his thrusts impossibly deep and tortuously slow.

“She thinks I still wanna fuck her,” he moans deeply when he hears the telltale slickness of your cunt sucking him in, over and over and over again. The proof of your desire for him clings to his hips, and with every stroke into your warm pussy, he finds himself wishing Ji would hang up so he can really get you screaming.

“Just- hah, do what you t-think’s right, mkay? I gotta go...” You drunkenly reach up and fumble around, searching for your phone. When your finger grazes the red button and you hear the familiar hang-up note, Mingi grabs either one of your hips and lifts your thighs to prop against his sides.

He leans in and presses his forehead against yours, kissing you with a filthy longing, wasting zero time as he puts some force behind his hips, smoothly stroking your guts out.

His kisses are loud and wet and invasive. His dick grazes against spots you didn’t even know you had, and every time you looked down and saw the combination of his hands holding your hips up and his dick slipping out of you, coated in cream, it sent you headfirst into your second orgasm.

Your body locks up, and Mingi notices, and he grabs your jaw and holds your head still, forcing your gaze on him. “Keep going,” he orders, his voice low and whiny. “Keep cumming, don’t stop. There’s no reason to stop.”

His words drag it out as he fucks it out of you, and you realize you hadn’t moaned for a minute because you were too busy trying to breathe, blissed out of your head.

Mingi squeezes your jaw a little harder, slowing his hips to give you a minute to regain composure before he slaps your cheek with just enough force to shake your brain back to life.

“C’mon, fuck me back, baby.” He lets go of your hips and opts for keeping one hand on your jaw and the other against the small of your back, arching you just right. “Fuck me…”

Your hands brace against the mattress as you lift your hips and gently roll them up against him, helping him slowly fuck his dick into you. Your head falls back, and Mingi moans at the marks he’s left on your neck. He twitches, watching you eagerly fuck back into him, your sweet little whimpers and begs making his chest tight with the overwhelming urge to give you what you want.

He reaches down and smacks your tits one at a time repeatedly, and you cry out, your hips faltering. “Never thought my ex would call while I’m giving you inches, but it's a first time for everything, right?” Gently, he pushes your hips down so you’re pressed back against the mattress; this time, he comes out with a greedy combo.

His hand is large enough that his fingers can reach your clit, and his palm, with the right amount of strength, presses nice and hard against your lower stomach. His other hand finds that familiar hold on your lower neck, and that fuzziness returns tenfold. You felt stupid underneath him, drooling on yourself, legs twitching, and all you could do was whine.

“Ever squirt before, pretty girl?” But he doesn’t care to hear your answer; before he’s moving his hips again, and your brain shatters. The lack of oxygen, the stimulation on your clit, his tip slamming against your g-spot. His eyes practically beg you to fall apart. His nostrils flare, and his sighs and moans bring weird swirls in your stomach that make your vision go blurry.

It was so good. You see why Ji was thinking what she was.

You tried to speak, and words wouldn’t come. He might actually fuck you up, make you an addict. You squirted, and you didn’t even notice it was happening, but Mingi couldn’t get enough of it. He laughs excitedly and lets up on your throat, and you moan loudly, your voice hoarse.

Your entire body shakes, and Mingi just keeps going. “Just a little more; you can handle me a little longer…” 

He becomes frantic, fucking you with the one end goal of filling you up. Your third orgasm is winding and continuous. His arms and hands wrap around your body, his hands curling over the back of your shoulders and literally holding you down on his cock. Stars burst from every vessel in your body when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, a long, sonorous moan spilling out by your ear as he holds you still. 

He cums so deep, you’re almost worried birth control would be no match. He pants, his hands massaging your shoulders, absentmindedly fucking his cum back into you, only stopping when you start crying from overstimulation.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Don’t cry…” he kisses your tears away and slowly slides himself out of you, his eyes fluttering closed as he fills your mouth with his tongue. You felt so empty it was unbelievable. If you could actually fuck a shape into someone, this was certainly what it had to feel like.

While Mingi was away, starting up the shower, you checked your phone. 3 messages from Ji.

whats going on? r u okay?

11:19pm

hanging up on me was kinda rude fyi

11:19pm

were u getting fucked or smth?

11:19pm

There was no way she wasn’t eventually going to find out. The circle was too close. Nobody out of the three was subtle about anything. Ji would not be cool with it.

He bathed you, he fed you, he drove you home. He took your car home to you, and Ubered back. It was soft, and it was kind. And it was the last time you spoke for months.

For months, it was radio silence from both of you. You never texted him, and he never texted you. You talked to Ji every day and found yourself hanging onto every word about him. And when you found out that they had hooked up again, you woke up.

It was like he, “legally”, broke the rule. You can’t sleep with your girlfriend’s best friend if she's not your girlfriend anymore. Things started to line up again.

When Ji told you she was turning off her tap because Mingi pissed her off, he came crawling back to you. When he texted you for the first time in months, you were livid. You yelled at him when he came over; you argued.

You two tend to do that, and it became a routine. Ji and him distance. He texts you. You argue. He fucks the living daylights out of you. He treats you with gentle hands, then runs back to her. And you let him. 

You keep feeding it, and it will come back. But you just can’t help it. You let yourself want something, and now one slip-up will destroy everything you already have.

Your friendship. Whatever twisted thing you had going on with Mingi. You never talked about it. He never stopped asking for your recipe, however, and the song snippets returned quietly to your messaging app.

So maybe it wasn’t that bad of a deal.

Everyone does keep telling you to be a little more selfish.

[maho6any]

Love Talk⋆˚࿔

because sometimes, actions don't speak louder than words

OT8 x F!Reader

♡ — synopsis: how do the boys talk to you while they're hittin that shit crazy style

♡ — warnings: crazy dirty talk. i plead the fifth.

♡ — notes: thank you so much for 4k followers! this is a small token of gratitude, and if you've been on my blog for long enough, dirty talk is my favorite thing on earth, so heres some things i think the ateez men would say to you lovelies in bed <3

⌞They have something to say to you ...⌝

Hongjoong

Condescending, teasing, dumbifying, talks to you like you’re stupid.

"Your job is to lie there and pretend that pretty little brain of yours isn't there."

"You think you have half a mind to give me orders? What's gotten into my sweet little girl?"

"I can feel your heartbeat through your cunt, baby, you're so alive it makes me wanna fuck you to death."

"Don't give up now, pretty, show me what else you can do with that mouth other than run it.

"You're cumming? So soon? Such a sensitive pussy, you'll be a slick wreck before I even get my dick in you."

"Pretty baby loves when Daddy fucks her to sleep, hm? I kinda miss when you use that voice to scream for me."

"Stupid cunt can't stop drooling all over the place. She can't help it, baby, huh? Can she? Fix your face and answer me, slut."

"You have such a soft body; we're gonna see how much it can withstand."

"I don't think you understand how much you've fucked up letting a man like me get his hands on you."

"You're such a good listener when you're all fucked out, pretty girl. Don't worry, drift off. I'll use you until I think you've had enough."

Seonghwa

Gentle, coaxing, intense, talks to you like if he’s too harsh, you might break.

"Six. You're going to cum for me six times. I'm gonna get you there, baby, let me take care of you."

"You're so close, honey, focus. god you're so beautiful, it drives me insane."

"I love how my fingers get you excited, how they reach places you could only dream of touching."

“Is my gorgeous girl gonna cum for me? Yes, you are; don’t be shy.”

“I don’t mean to be so deep, baby, but you’ll be okay. You can take me, you always do like the angel you are.”

“Deep breaths, yes, that’s it. Feel me everywhere. Focus on feeling good; that’s all that’s ever mattered.”

“Open that pretty mouth, honey; I wanna hear those noises you make when you’re overstimulated.”

"Don't float away from me, come on. Snap out of it. Only 2 more to go."

"Please, bunny its the only thing I want, it's the only thing I need. Let me see those eyes when you cum. Don't look away."

"I just can't help it, baby, can't you go for 7? Please? Good girls always go above and beyond."

San

Encouraging, drunk, prideful, much like he’s overtly proud of how well you handle him

"That's it, talk to me, let me know what spots I'm touching."

"Mmm, fuck babydoll, your tummy's so soft, you smell so fucking good... you're perfect."

"I know it's a lot, but you got it, look at you... deep strokes. Don't let your body run from me, stay right there."

"I'm gonna get as many orgasms out of you as I can, hold back, and I'll force them out of you."

"You're so pretty- mwah!- so cute when I hit you deep baby, you look so blissed out."

"You take my dick like a champ, sweet girl. mhm, and you make me feel so good."

"Shh, suck on my fingers, like that. You have to be quieter, or the neighbors will complain about you again. I don't know what their deal is because you sound gorgeous."

"Take what you deserve, it's all for you. It's all for you... I'm so proud of you, baby."

"I love when you moan with your pussy in my mouth. Tell me more, sweetheart, let me hear what I'm doing to you."

"Right there? Hm? Yeah, I know. I know but 'm gonna fuck my shape into this pussy. I'm sorry, I know, keep cumming that's it. I'm not done yet."

Yeosang

Quiet, demanding, straightforward, much like he knows what he wants and always gets it

"Let me fuck you on your stomach, I know you'll cum the whole time if I do."

"C'mon get a grip, you're drooling all over my pillow, we just started, sweetheart."

"Keep your eyes on me. What did I say? Don't you wanna cum? I won't make you cum if you don't look at me."

"If you keep pushing back on my stomach, I'll bend you over and make you be still. Don't test me, love."

"You're not in charge here, sweetheart, lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you."

"I could do whatever I want to you, and you'd still thank me for it, wouldn't you, angel? My grateful girl, feel me give you what you need."

"You know how to do it, don't act like you don't. Smart girls like you shouldn't need reminders. Play with yourself, I'll wait."

"Why am I not moaning? Because I'm busy talking to you, angel. Don't be rude. Take this dick and talk to your boyfriend. You can multitask."

"I know I'm fucking you slow, but it's the only way you'll feel each and every part of me in that cunt. Dragging out your orgasms makes this so fun, pretty."

"If you pass out, I'll just fuck you back awake, I promise, baby. You won't miss me too much."

Yunho

degrading, objectively, mockingly, much like he knows better than you.

"You don't get to decide anything. I do what I want, and you'll like it anyway."

"Aw, fuck baby... those marks are gonna turn such pretty colors against your skin. Yeah, you'll wear them proudly for me?"

"Stupid slut, willing to humiliate yourself for me? Fuck you're addicting."

"Every time I slap you, you clench around my dick. That's kinda fucked up, baby. If I choke you, will you cum so hard you piss yourself?"

"Oh, but you like it this deep, baby. I know you, you like having your cunt stuffed full and your head emptied."

"Oh, you're so sad, beautiful. I love when you're sad, cause I can fuck it out of you, fuck you till you're so empty and all you can think of is me."

"Needy things like you need to be roughed up every once in a while, helps readjust that bratty attitude you like to get your way with."

"c'mon princess, tell me you love me. Tell me you love me, and I might kiss you. Would the bruises feel better if I kissed you?"

"Mm, I fucking love splitting this cunt open. So wet and so pretty, so beat up. What would you do without me?"

"You're learning so fast, baby, I bet you love that you can't cum without my permission. You are bound to me through your body."

Wooyoung

teasing, playful, bully-like, much like he finds your pleasure amusing

"C'mon say it into my mouth. 'Wooyoung...' like that. Let me taste my name on your tongue while I play with you."

"Good girl, good girl, yeah, you feel full? That's so cute, you have no idea all the things I can make you feel. i wanna drive you fucking crazy."

"You like when I whine for you. Pretty boy, pretty voice, yeah? You love being fucked by someone just as pretty as you."

"You're trembling, isn't that precious. Don't be so greedy, baby, I have all day to string you out."

"I know you're trying so hard for me to not cum, but I hate playing fair. I want you to fail. If I pinch your clit, will you fall apart?"

"Don't worry, I'll cover your mouth so you don't embarrass yourself. Yeah, there you go, now just focus on me hitting that spot."

"Let me see those pretty teeth you like to bite me with. Smile when I'm dicking you down, dollface, let me know that pussy feels good."

"You sure you don't like it when I make fun of you? My dick is so wet I keep slipping out. Mhm, I think someone likes being bullied."

"I love taking you against the wall. I can invade all your personal space, make you feel so trapped."

"I love it when you cum, and it makes me even fucking harder when I know you can't run from it."

Jongho

indifferent, lofty, careless, like he’s oblivious to the way he makes you feel

"I'm barely fucking you, and you seem so out of it. Don't tell me I've broken you."

"You don't know what's good for you, doll, c'mon let me do what I want. It might even feel good."

"You might be sore in the morning, but you're willing to make that sacrifice for me, aren't you, honey?"

"Hush, don't tell me you can't. No one wants to hear that, you can and you will."

"Why're you moaning so loud, hm? What if I grind into you? Will you quiet down?"

"C'mon, let's count, maybe it'll help you focus. Ground yourself, we've got a long way to go."

"You get so loud when I slap your clit, who knew you'd be so impolite. You hardly even fight, so pliant."

"You're mine. Your body does what I tell it to. Isn't that pathetic? So easily conditioned to me."

"Don't fight it, honey, cum. Let go so I can get back to teasing you until you cry. I love when you cry, it makes me so fucking hard."

Mingi

vulgar, unashamed, attentive, much like there’s no place he would rather be

"Oh, baby... feel every inch of me, arch that back, get me deeper. just like that."

"You're so small, I wanna crush you. You're so fucking cute, you make me lightheaded."

"I'm in your stomach? Oh, I'm sorry, baby. What if I pout? Will you forgive me? I'm so sorry. What if I pound that pussy harder, hm? How bout now, still mad at me, gorgeous?

"You're so warm around my dick... you're everything. Oh my fuck."

"Slow down? hm? Make me. Stop me, baby, you know what to do. I'm too heavy? not my problem."

"I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna take my time with you. imma give it to you the way you like."

"Don't tap, no running. You feel too good, baby. You hear how wet you sound?"

"Feel my hands, I got you. I'm holding you, baby; you aren't going anywhere. Ride it out for me."

"Moan my name properly, c'mon. You choke every time I fuck back into you; you're making me sad here, beautiful."

"I am being nice to you, mami. There's nobody nicer than me who can make this pussy cream all over your sheets."

[maho6any]

oh my god my brain just snapped awake. something is coming.

[maho6any]

morning dew

i also cannot stop thinking about the man thats making everyone gay

bf!san x f!reader

content: morning intimacy, clingy!san, munch!san, san loves talking to his girl(not you 1% of the time), oral, fingering, strong armsmsm...

wc: 1.5k

thinking about san...

you hated to be one of those girls, but your boyfriend was heaven.

he feels like his bones were made to accommodate the slope of your hands along his neck and along his mountainous shoulders. you liked stirring swirls with the tips of your acrylics into his messy black hair in the morning.

the sun streams through the half-broken blinds of your apartment, blanketing san in a patterned ray of light. his gentle eyes closed sleepily, practically purring at the feel of your hands and your body warmth beneath him. you lie with your back against the headrest, pillows stuffed beneath your lower back, whilst san lounges comfortably with his head in your lap.

his big, soft hands hold your thighs together like a pillow he fears will iceberg beneath his ear. the comforter is thrown haphazardly over your bed, the fitted sheet lifting off the corners of the mattress. proof of a… busy night.

every time you all but shift beneath him, he grumbles and holds your thighs together. “move again, and i’ll lock your legs together.”

tempting, but you did not need to rile him up this early in the morning. san was much like a cat. cute, fickle. particular.

you wont sit still? he'll do something to help you to relax.

the fingers on your thighs splay wider as if to grab more of your flesh, and he turns his head and begins dusting the tops of your thighs with kisses.

“my sweet, pretty girl.” san murmurs against your skin, a teasing, pouty tone to it. this is how it starts. with buttering you up.

he moves the blanket so his broad shoulders are exposed to the gold morning light, the grey tanktop doing little to hide the proof of his hard work. he can almost feel the way your eyes laser in on his back, and he can't help but smile as his wandering hands move to slip your panties down your legs smoothly. his warm kisses never cease, sensual and promising.

your hands slip away from his hair in surprise, and he nearly throws a fit as he grumbles and grabs your wrists and brings them back to the top of his head. his hands are back on your body in no time, holding both sides of your waist as you might melt through his fingers and massaging your hips with that perfect amount of pressure.

the feeling evokes a content sight out of you, and you find your upper body stretching subconsciously.

“there we go, big stretch, babydoll. good morning to you too,” san teases you with that stomach-flipping grin, and you narrow your eyes to tease him back. he, however, drags his worked, big hands down your waist, along the curve of your hips, back down to your thighs, where he wastes no time in spreading your legs in a way that can only be described as greedily.

“i wanna say good morning to her too…” he growls very quietly under his breath, hastily pushing your thighs back and up against your stomach. “she's always so happy to see me.”

the evidence of “her excitement” is clear: strings of arousal that cling to your lips, spread nice and pretty from the way san holds your legs open. his hands travel along your outer thighs, up your sides, all the while his head lowers between your thighs, eager.

“you were excited first,” you attempt to retort, to resume some semblance of control. you knew you had none; you were so weak for him. and when his heated tongue lay flat against your cunt, and his thumbs pressed into your lower stomach, you had only been proven right.

he squeezed your body like a stress toy, the muscles in his back twitching with every register of your taste. he moaned, so prettily. his mouth moved slowly and deliberately. leisurely, open-mouth kisses. deep, wide licks and hungry swallows. anyone he could tell he was doing it 100% for you would know he was lying if they saw and heard the way san was making out with your pussy.

your head falls back against the headboard, the bones in your legs liquefying as your boyfriend eats breakfast.

“hello, beautiful,” he purrs into a suckling kiss against your clit, and you feel an overwhelming mix of emotions come over you. you grip his hair harder, and he bites his bottom lip with a grin and a laugh as he spits between your pussy lips.

shame, embarrassment, arousal that burned too bright, it ached low in your stomach. you hated it when he talked to your cunt. but the way your stomach tightened in response spoke volumes every time.

when he starts kneading your lower stomach, deep and slow like he was working knots out of you, and gently kitten licking right under your clit, you pull his hair so hard he hisses in pain.

“aww, baby, you’re making this so hard for me.” san pouts and one of his hands lightly smacks your stomach. “i'm tryna keep you clean, but you won't stop dripping all over the sheets, always so messy!”

you sniffle and moan, one of his hands falling away from your waist and slithering between your legs, gathering the stickiness he's pulled out of you all over his middle fingers.

your body twitches at the new touch, and san moans long and low around your clit as he slides his fingers knuckle deep inside you, quick to scrape against that spot, and stars were bursting at the back of your skull.

“d-oh fuck… s-san, mmm…” your words dissolved into mindless, blissful pleasure. a horny smile spreads across your lips as san pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt.

“my gorgeous, sloppy girl.” san slurs against your pussy, his eyebrows furrowing as he eats you like he was imagining it was your lips. his eyes close and his hand squeezes tighter, his thumb presses deeper. his fingers curl harder inside of you, his tongue turns merciless against your clit, and his moans drag feelings out of you that should be illegal.

for some reason, you just could not take it this morning; it all felt so intense for some unknown reason. your hips bucked against his mouth, his fingers repeatedly caught on the ridge inside of you, and your legs began to shake.

san pouts and clicks his tongue out of pity, moving his fingers in deep, wavelike strokes that made your throat feel like somebody was trying to pull it out of you through your stomach. “aww, babydoll, you’re shuddering. it feels so wrong when you cum without me kissing you.”

this is true. he loves to drink your noises when you cum, feel the warmth of your teeth as you shatter on his dick, fingers, abs… etc. he would normally abandon the meal and just finger you until you snap, but, god. he couldn't stay away from your pussy.

warm and sweet and wet. your plush thighs hugging his ears like muffs. your nails against his scalp like a reminder of how he makes you feel. he frowns, like some innocent, wronged cat whose tail you’ve stepped on. but the way his fingers curl and the way he kisses your clit tell different stories.

the hand still holding your waist, and effortlessly your body against the bed, lands another slap against your stomach, and your limbs jerk.

“c’mon, let go, sweet girl. cum. it'll feel so good if you do, and it’ll make me sooo happy,” and he really couldn’t help himself at this point. his lips suction to your clit one last time, pulling away with a wet pop, wasting no time and lifting himself and swallowing your parted lips in a heavy kiss.

his fingers fucked you faster, his thumb moving up to circle your slick clit in place of his unfair mouth. he nibbles your bottom lip with a grin and kisses you so deep with a desire to take you can’t find your breath.

“don't you wanna make me happy, babydoll?” he practically begs into your mouth, and everything inside of you screams to make your heaven of a boyfriend happy. you cum so hard you would’ve thought he was fucking you.

then again, that's how it is with san every single time, and you still haven't gotten tired of it. he just knows what to do, so assertive, so caring, such a man.

coming down from your high, your grip onto his tanktop and bury your face into his neck, huffing and puffing, whining softly as his fingers slowly circle inside of you, working it out as he whispers praises in your ear.

you breathe in the smell of his cologne from the day before, and it makes your stomach tingle. vanilla, whiskey, patchouli, something so intoxicating it's hypnotic. the sun paints his tanned skin a radiant gold, and suddenly you get overwhelmed with the urge to bite him.

you do. he complains with a return bite to your shoulder, and you moan in response. he pauses and licks the bite and smiles, squeezing your waist with anticipation.

you’ve riled him up again.

btw the fragrance im refrencing is nightclubbing by celine. he mentioned he wore it in an interview one time and im a huge fragrance nerd and the notes are so sexy

[maho6any]

church outfit

i momentarily dragged myself out of my rut and this was the result. yes the title is based off poppy's song. yes there's blasphemy. ofc its not proofread, what are you nuts?

priest!yunho x f!reader

content: early 1800's setting, corruption, choking, begging, idolization, use of "father"

wc: 2k

thinking about yunho...

“f-forgive me!”

a deep, heavy nudge in your belly.

“again. like you’re counting.”

the confessional rattled with every movement; the small space felt like the wood was melting with your skin. hot and static, the air could snap from the tension.

you came to the church to speak with father jeong about the flower arrangements for the upcoming village wedding, which was always the rage every month, and your biggest profit week. arranged marriages were common, and there seemed to be one every few weeks. you always accommodated the flowers like the sweet girl you were. you had never gotten so lucky in the marriage mart, even though you are still somewhat "freshly bloomed" at a ripe twenty years.

it was raining, awfully so. it was rather late when you decided to stop by the church, but you had been out at the time, purchasing some more seeds at the market when the sky opened up.

and to be frank, the church was much shorter of a walk in comparison to home. so, soaked to the bone with your clothes sticking to you like cobwebs, you made yourself at home.

the cathedral doors shut behind you, heavy and rumbling, fading in with the angry thunder that roared beyond them. the air was stagnant, and it was so quiet you could hear the flickering of the candle flames below the altarpiece.

he heard the doors from his office, the familiar thud distinguishable from the thunder to him.

he was in no hurry, walking leisurely to the front of the church, and by the time he opened the door to the nave, you had already made your pretty little way up the altar steps, curiously poking your nose by the confessional.

“can i help you?” he bellowed. he didn’t really, but the echo in the room nearly sent your skin sliding off your neck.

you squeaked embarrassingly enough, whipping your body around speedily and meeting his low-set gaze in a panic. Tall, dark, a secret third thing.

“i’m sorry, father!” you bowed your head respectfully. “i hope i didn’t startle you. i wanted to ask more about the flowers you requested for the wedding arrangement. if you don’t… mind?”

you hadn’t thought you were rambling, but maybe you were. you tend not to mind yourself. father jeong seemed rather distracted.

his gaze was trained low, pupils branding holes onto your thighs. your sheer linen dress dripped with rainwater and clung to the soft, bare skin beneath. the beautiful color seeping through the wet window, the candlelight catching the shape of you.

god, he couldn’t look away.

you had no clue what was going on with him or what he was thinking. the uncertainty in your voice made something in his blood shift.

“—ther?”

sound reentered his world. yunho blinked once, twice. he slowly dragged his eyes up your body, taking his sweet, selfish time until his eyes locked with your confused ones.

“yes?” he smiled, tilting his head like a dog that’s gotten caught digging a hole under the fence. his voice was much lower now, carrying with it a warm feeling in your stomach that screamed at you to… offer something.

“the arrangements?” you question softly, your voice meek. you take a small step back, and your shoulder brushes the confessional.

his eyes move like lasers to where you grazed the wood, and you see something in his head click. and like a switch flipped in his mind, he straightened and offered his hand to you politely.

“of course we can talk!” he replied loftily, and you slowly reached out your hand. his, cold and large, slid up your wrist and pulled you closer before enveloping your hand when he had you a foot away.

“i would love nothing more than to discuss it with you.” his cadence slipped, and his thumb stroked ever so lightly over the top of your knuckles.

discussing became teasing, then persuasion, and you weren’t sure what to call the last thing, but if there was a word for it, you’re sure to have forgotten it by now.

you remembered the word “please.”

“sin” was a hard one to forget. “father,” and “forgive” were top contenders you reached for the most.

every now and then you’d let a little “god” slip, and yunho would waste no time in digging his nails into your scalp where his fist was buried in your frizzy hair, seething behind his teeth with a venomous groan as he shoves his cock so far up into you it it makes your nails drag hard enough against the splintery, fragrant wood you nails split and your fingertips began to bleed.

“to me.” his command falls from his mouth angrily, enveloped in a low moan. “talk to me. beg me for forgiveness, baby. i’m the only one who’ll be willing to give it to you.”

he had you chanting it like a mantra, legs spread, feet planted on the floor. your damp and cold dress bunched at your hips, your soft legs shaking in pleasure.

the fingers of his right hand curled deep into your hair, his other hand cupped around the front of your throat, pulling you back into a beautiful arch.

the confessional door was locked tight, trapping the heat of the moment and the desperate pleas inside. you could feel the zipper of yunho’s pants scraping against your bare skin each time he filled you up again.

powerful, deep strokes, slow and intentional, he unraveled your body in that confession. you had drool and tears all over the valley of your breast where he ripped open your bodice in a scary kind of hunger.

your collarbones and neck littered in pretty dark marks, footpaths left in the wake of his mouth. he had no mercy.

your moans poured out into the empty nave, your sad voice bouncing off the red velvet pews and against glass-stained walls.

his pretty pink tip repeatedly caught against that ridge deep in your cunt that made you feel like he was trying to pull you apart from the inside out. the veins that ran up his length grazed your walls as they tried to suck his dick back in each time his thrusts retreated.

his growls made your eyes roll, each thrust of his cock purposeful and long, leaving no spot untouched. his hand on your throat pulled a little more, craning your head back a little more until you could see his face.

the flimsy white collared shirt he was wearing was half unbuttoned, giving you a beautiful view of the top of his stomach where his body rolled with each drag in your pussy. it shot your sensitivity up tenfold.

“o-oh mmf-my god-“

yunho cleared his throat loudly and bottomed out, keeping still as he slowly rotated his hips to circle his tip over that spot so perfect it made you almost smile in bliss.

his nails in your scalp slowly retreated, letting your head fall forward and limp against the wooden wall with a thud. you choked and sputtered, and yunho bit his tongue trying to restrain himself when your pussy spasmed around him.

“listen, and listen well, sweetheart.” he leaned his head down and pressed such a soft, sleepy kiss against your neck, trailing it down your shoulder. his free hand played with the fluffy sleeve of your dress, ghosting up your arm and up the side of your neck.

“god is not here.” he whispers in a cold, yet soft tone. “it’s you, and me.”

you were swimming in his voice, lost in the baritone waves of it, you hardly noticed the hand trailing up your arm had cupped over the other he had on your throat, and only when he pulled your head back with the strength of both of his arms by your fragile little neck, did it register with you that there might be chance you would not make it out of here on working legs tonight.

he leaned down and pressed his lips flat against your ear, and his hips began to move again. loud, heavy slaps began to fill your ears as yunho wasted no time and fucking you just the way he believed you deserved. not such an angelic little flower girl anymore.

“so do us a big, bigggg favor, sweetheart, and tell father yunho how good you feel. convince me to forgive you, and i might let you cum.”

with every thrust, he changed the angle until he found the best one to pound your g-spot into oblivion, so his balls would smack against your slippery clit with every stroke.

your moans broke and choked, your voice faint and breathy from the hold his hands levered on your throat. it bobbed against his palm, and it made his dick twitch inside of you.

“beg me.” he bites, sinking his teeth into your earlobe.

you spit the words out around a shaky moan. “forgive me!”

“again.” he pulled your head back further, his voice teetering on something dangerously possessive.

“f-forgive me!”

“prettier.” he knew how to make you sound prettier. he let up the grip on your neck just long enough to let him bite your jaw and shove his dick into your stomach in one long thrust.

“forgive me!” your voice was clearer, whinier, and he had forced such a pretty moan out of you, he needed this to over so he could get some more sounds out of you with some experimenting.

“that’s it, baby.” he groans, picking up his pace earnestly. “keep it up, run that throat raw for me.”

with every thrust, you whimpered helpless cries for forgiveness, the evidence of your bliss wracking each syllable. yunho gnawed on his bottom lip, his grin teasing and lusty as he watched your ass bounce off him.

your words blended, and your syllables slurred the more and more he chipped at parts of your brain. the filling drags of his cock inside of you, forcing your calves to lock up.

yunho pulls your neck up until your back is flat against his chest, your head hanging back over his shoulder, your eyes glued to the ceiling of the confessional.

one hand remained cupped over your throat, the other slid up under your dress until his huge hand palmed flat over your lower stomach, keeping your torso up and leaving a warm pressure on your belly, forcing you further back on his dick.

you groan loudly as he begins to fuck you hard and steadily, smiling against your heated ears.

“c’mon, baby, you wanna cum? let’s cum, yeah?” he teases you with a playful lilt in his voice. “begged so pretty for me, i almost think you deserve it.”

you nodded at nothing in particular, blind to the way endless slick rivered down your inner thighs at the thought of yunho letting you cum.

he never even confirmed what color roses he wanted for the wedding. it seems you both got somewhat distracted.

your orgasm was blinding, but enough that yunho could feel your breathing halt from the inside out. he praised you with a deep laugh and a sharp thrust.

“that’s right, baby, cum all over it. i’m gonna make you get on your knees and lick up your mess off that expensive velvet you’ve ruined with this nasty cunt.”

he drags his hand on your stomach down and lands a slap on your clit, and your body jerks.

your mouth moves before your brain can protest.

“i love you!” you cry, perhaps in that moment, mistaking him for god.

he did not miss a beat, falling back into a slow rhythm of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm. “aww, you love me, baby? that’s cute.” he lets go of your neck, and you fall forward again, catching yourself on your hands against the wall.

he lands a slap against your ass as he slips his soaked cock out of your warm pussy.

“now go lie on your back out on the aisle floor.” he instructs with a shake in his voice, like he was holding back. like it was taking every fiber of his being not to snatch you up by your throat and fuck you like an animal that knows it’ll be dead by morning.

and like injured prey, you follow obediently, only praying he’ll let you cum again, with a meek and hopeful, “yes, father.”

he rewards your enthusiastic obedience with a gentle, animalic pet under your chin and the softest of smiles.

“now go present yourself for me.”

[maho6any]

In elementary and middle school, the only stories I ever wrote were fantasy. And deep down in my soul I MISS writing fantasy so much, it’s so important to who I am at my core. So once I get my shit together and things have calmed down on my side, expect some kind of fantasy au for Ateez… I’m thinking howls moving castle and Seonghwa maybe?

[sungbeam-deactivated20260719]

LIVE ALIVE! COLLAB M.LIST

kq university's newest and hottest social club is dropping their collection from the past quarter, and she's full of drama, comedy, and spice! be there or be square 🫵🤨 (find the flyer here)

the following content will be released between april 10 - april 30. some of the work featured here is 18+ ONLY! heed warnings, respect boundaries, and DON'T FORGET TO REBLOG <3

a message from our club president: thank you so much to all the lovely writers who joined me for this collab!! i was so thrilled to meet so many great writer atinys and i absolutely cannot wait to read your fics 🥹 you were what made this collab so successful, and i can't thank you all enough for your enthusiasm and work 💖 lots of love, beam x

DISCLAIMER: please reach out to individual writers about taglists as i am not managing a taglist for this event :]

DO I KNOW YOU? ☆ @starlitjoong

Freshman year of college was supposed to be your fresh start. Your opportunity to put your best foot forward. Then a familiar face you’re not too thrilled by rips that chance away. Kim Hongjoong was assigned to train you for your new job in the campus library. He was thorough, too thorough, recalling things you didn’t quite want to remember. The memories with your first love haunt you in your sleep. Will seeing him every day cause your hate to grow? Or will the feelings you worked so hard to bury erupt into a chaotic mess of storage closet makeouts and cold shoulders?

HARD TO FOCUS ☆ @belongjoong 18+

physics was never a strong subject for you, but when your hot new tutor kim hongjoong comes to the rescue, you start to wonder if you're really staying for the lessons - or just for him.

ONE MORE LINE ☆ @blizzardfluffykpop 18+

Everything in your senior year of college felt like you needed just one more; one more class, one more test, one more line, and it would all be over, and you could finally rest your bones. And with Hongjoong by your side; every class, every test, every line came easy. And when Tuesdays and Thursdays came to a close, you could peacefully rest your bones beside him. Drawing to your hearts content as he scribbles down a half a page of lines.

CURTAIN CALL ☆ @sangis-puppy

College was draining enough without having D1 athlete and ‘Pride of the school, Chris, up your ass for two years trying to get you in his bed. You’d do anything to get him off your back for even a week of peace. So when the chance to knock him down a few pegs presents itself in the form of Park Seonghwa, a nerdy type that said athlete torments, you take it. What starts as a few campus spottings to get under Chris’s skin turns into blurred lines and moments that feel too real for a fake relationship. Time ticks to Homecoming and the curtain will fall on this act. How will you bow out?

SUNBURN ☆ @sungbeam

you and park seonghwa, petty rivals since the third grade, can't stand the sight of each other. at least, that's what you both claim. sometimes, getting the truth out of two stubborn people just requires turning up the heat.

SWEETHEART ☆ @ja3hwa 18+

ATZ was the place to be. Everyone either wanted to be in the fraternity or be with one of the members... And this push and pull you had seemingly fallen into with one of the brooding frat boys was making you dizzy. Your neck quickly aching from whiplash over the constant what ifs and maybes... Oh... Oh wait, it was just the dark bruising hickies he left that were the ache and the overflow of alcohol that made you dizzy... Whoops.

LEVEL ZERO ☆ @03jyh23 18+

Jeong Yunho is the human equivalent of a system crash. A 6’2” wreck of stuttered sentences, fogged-up glasses, and nerves he can’t outgrow. He has spent his first year of college trying to be invisible. He’s a tactical genius on screen, but on campus, he can barely survive a three-word greeting without his voice cracking.

He tries to start a Gaming Club in a basement that smells like dust and dump. When a pack of “Mean Girls” turns his recruitment drive into a public execution, you step in.

You lie. You improvise. You claim you’re his pro-tier carry—his star recruit.

Now you learn the hard way: Rule #1 of saving a cute nerd from bullies is this—don’t claim you’re an expert in a game you’ve never heard of.

NEW PERSPECTIVE ☆ @from-izzy

the stage has always been jeong yunho's, star university's top acting student, happiest place. but as time goes on, and pressure makes him slip away from acting, a certain girl with her canvas paints a story from a new perspective that keeps him going.

SLEEPOVERS IN MY BED ☆ @everyonewooeverywhere 18+

jeong yunho and song mingi have always been the campus's "it couple." even those who don't know them say they're a match made in heaven--meant to be in every universe. but you know different. you know the truth: that jeong yunho spends her sunday nights in your bed and song mingi is a fucking weirdo. but while her boyfriend thinks she's studying, you're giving her what he could never fulfill. she may love him, but at least she's in your bed.

AFTER HOURS ☆ @17teezers 18+

being an ra comes with a lot of responsibilities: managing residents, hosting events, surviving move in day… but apparently you need to learn how to survive your co-ra, kang yeosang, as well. that definitely wasn’t in the manual.

he’s professional, intelligent, organized, and also really good at making you feel stupid. after being assigned the same floor, you start to realize he might not be as bad as you thought. which would be fine — if there wasn’t one very simple rule: don’t date your coworkers.

LITTLE MISS CATASTROPHE ☆ @hyungszn

meet kang yeosang. sophomore, gymnast, and most importantly, campus’ most eligible omega. yeosang’s been trying to set the record straight for years but thanks to his slightly awkward nature, people kind of just brush him off for a pretty face. however just when he thinks of giving up, the universe concocts the most disastrous “outing” imaginable: you.

WATER GIRL ☆ @yeonlymine 18+

between lectures and slaving in the training room, choosing athletic training as your work study job was supposed to be the easy part of college. until a transfer named yeosang joins the roster mid season and suddenly the nickname “water girl” isn’t just harmless locker room teasing anymore.

A PACK A DAY ☆ @maho6any 18+

you asked him what kind of doctor smokes? he said he'd quit once he gets his degree. you didn't like each other very much. you hated that you sat next to each other in class, to which you both used the excuse that it was only because it was the desk closest to the wall outlet. the professor seems to think you do this by choice, and decides you would be the perfect pair for the childcare simulation. and unfortunately for you and your poor sensitive heart, a pack a day does not in fact keep the doctor away

HANDS ON ME ☆ @xomakara 18+

You join KQ University’s Taekwondo club and immediately get underestimated — especially by San, the star member who treats you like you might break. When you finally reveal your true skill by sweeping him in a spar, everything shifts, and San becomes fascinated, competitive, and increasingly drawn to you.

DARE ☆ @minkieater 18+

you can’t fucking stand jung wooyoung, mingi really really wants kim minjeong. when wooyoung and winter end up together, you and mingi have no choice but to figure out how to win winter’s favor, to stab wooyoung in the back. mingi needs a favor, and you want revenge... do you dare?

PAS DE DEUX ☆ @way2jellyous 18+

at Seoul's most prestigious ballet university, no pair is more legendary than you and Ikhyun - until a scandal destroys his career overnight. Varna is coming up, and you're forced to pick a new partner. But maybe some things are never meant to be replaced. - or lowkey a k-drama that somehow got converted to a fanfic on tumblr dot com

PIPE DREAM ☆ @yestodayys 18+

song mingi is a lot of things. he’s top of the class you hate the most, a mutual friend of your roommates, probably the best dressed guy on campus… and now he’s haunting your dreams, too.

FLASH POINT ☆ @hyungszn 18+

there’s a very thin line between lust and hate; a concept of which you are intimately familiar. when you push, wooyoung pulls, and soon what started out as a battle of wills has quickly morphed into a war of temptation with no ceasefire in sight. TL;DR: in a world where opposites are meant to attract, you and wooyoung couldn’t be more alike… so why the hell do you want each other so bad?

KANJO ☆ @jitaewoo 18+

there’s two subgroups of hashiriyas that rule japan: the kanjozoku of osaka and the roulettezoku of tokyo. in osaka, you live your days out either on campus or at work. on the outside, it’s all seems so repetitive and boring—but that is exactly what you want. then, one day, it all gets messed up when a new transfer student, jung wooyoung, comes and threatens to shatter everything you have built. stupid tokyo boys have no clue what really goes on in osaka, and wooyoung is going to have to learn the hard way.

THE OFF LIMITS RULE ☆ @stxrrywoo 18+

coming back from studying abroad for two years you had two goals in mind: win the annual end of summer fashion design contest and jung wooyoung... your brothers best friend. only issue? your brother had forbidden you from his friends and likewise has forbidden his friends from you. yet when yeosang gets the opportunity to study abroad you start to see an opportunity to finally make your move, so you take it. I mean.... what's the worst that could happen?

AS IF ☆ @moooonandroses 18+

you and jongho can’t stand each other, but the universe doesn't seem to catch the signals. everywhere you went, he was there. friends teased you both, saying that you liked each other so much you were manifesting the other everywhere. ugh, as if you would ever like him, right?

[NOUN] LOVE ☆ @redemptions 18+

you and jongho met as children during a letter writing project. years later, you get the chance to meet in person because of a study exchange but you are determined to keep your feelings a secret - after all, how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with him?

THE LAW OF ATTRACTION ☆ @jinkoh

Jongho was everything you weren’t: ambitious, diligent, promising—all in all the perfect law school student. Naturally, your chaos didn’t fit into his prearranged life. Not for long, anyway. Your silly little relationship was never meant to last. So how come you couldn't seem to move on? Of course, being grouped together for a semester-long assignment didn't exactly help your case.

[maho6any]

I’m so excited to read everyone’s stuff, no joke I just started writing today, I’ve been so busy. But trust it’ll be out very soon!!! Look forward to it!!!

[maho6any]

pillow princess

arrmmmmsss.... armmssas,d, asrmmsss,,

bf!san x f!reader

content: headlock, mirror play, recording, pronebone

wc: 2k

thinking about san...

you kind of wished he had never found out about it. not really, but now it certainly seems he likes to use it as leverage against you.

your boyfriend was gentle in all the ways that count. soft touches that made you feel like precious art. sweet words of encouragement that made you feel seen. but sometimes you feel like he might be too gentle with you.

the only times he ever let that soft-handed mask down were when he was fucking you.

and the first time he ever found out about your little infatuation, he seemed to have grown a little more comfortable with roughing it up a little.

“oh god… oh baby. fuck, you feel so good.” on your stomach, face pressed into the sheets, san’s face nudged in the tight space where your neck meets your shoulder. his arms caged either side of your head, resting his forearms next to your ears.

his chest was glued to your back, your spine digging into his stomach. bare and hot and wet, your bodies pressed against each other without an inch of space to speak for. your entire body shivered when he forced himself deeper into you, his curved, thick cock splitting your cunt open.

this position had him so deep, so invasive, so full. his hips rolled against the flesh of your ass, san’s voice dipping low in needy moans when you squeezed around him while he pulled his hips back, listening to the slick sound your pussy made, trying to keep him inside.

“pussy’s so warm today, baby.” he lets his mouth fall open against the shell of your ear, panting and groaning to make your brain melt. “making me feel so fucking crazy, you make me feel crazy, pretty.”

you forced your head out of the pillow when you felt his thrusts slow to a deep grind, pulling a ragged whine from your mouth. you pried your eyes open to watch as his arms moved around your head.

“turn, look at us.” he kisses below your ear, and drags his tongue up the side of your cheek. his right arm reaches and grabs his phone from the corner of the bed, holding it tight in his hand and scrolling and pressing buttons.

you forget he keeps a tall mirror against his bedroom wall, right next to the end of his bed. you can see the top halves of your melded bodies. his big, broad shoulders shadow your littler form under him. his soft, flushed face meeting your eyes in the reflection, his big, meaty arms flexing and twitching around your head every time he moved.

you watch to try and see what he was doing, and he punishes your nosiness with a sharp, deep thrust that makes your calf lock up.

“mind your business, babydoll.” he grumbles, then you feel it. his left arm curls around the front of your throat, tight. the muscles twitch and contract over your neck, just enough to limit your breathing. snug, warm and secure around the front of your throat.

he feels you tighten around his cock, and it makes his skin prickle. “ooh, fuck…” he groans and you feel his voice vibrate against your back. you forced your eyes up and you can see his phone recording your reflection in the mirror. catching the fucked out look on your face, his thick arm wrapped around your throat in an owning headlock.

his mouth spreads into a sly grin when your eyes roll when he pulls back his hips and then sinks his cock back into you so slowly, so smoothly, your legs jerk under him to try and escape the feeling.

“my soft little slut…” san leans down to whisper in your ear, the flash of his camera moving with each thrust. he licks the tears that pool at the corner of your eyes before he drags his head back up to watch you both in the mirror.

“look at you go, baby.” he praises around a heated smile. “drooling all over my arm like some kind of puppy. does that feel good? hm?”

you whimper out an incoherent agreement, and he giggles softly, littering the nape of your neck with soft kisses. he adjusts his hips to drag against that deeper, sweeter spot, that makes you still and lightly sink your teeth into his arm.

he keeps that meaner pace, deep heavy strokes in your guts that you can do nothing but lie under his body and take. his arm around your neck made clouds swim around in your brain. he tightens the hold, and you squeal loudly, barely catching the way he zooms in with his phone to better catch the pretty look on your face.

your cheeks squished by his muscles, your eyes desperate and heavy-lidded. he thought you looked so cute, and who would’ve thought that all he had to do to get you this needy was to put you in a headlock.

san fucks you greedily, the curve of him perfectly hitting that spot that turned your mind off. his voice egged you on, his low moans, and his pretty heavy breaths. groaning ’mhms’ of approval with every thrust into you as if he was grading the feel of your cunt around him. with every stroke, you only seemed to get even wetter, and the proof was the sticky web of your slick that clung to his base.

“mm, i love fucking my baby, slow… and stupid.” he attaches his lips to the pulse point on your neck, sucking and running his tongue over the sensitive spot of skin. “jus wanna fuck you so deep it hurts.”

he’s in your ear, talking to you and only you. all the while his phone catches every moment, every thrust and every moan.

his lower stomach repeatedly brushes against your back, his cock stirring up your insides at the most, torturous and delicate pace. the slow smack of flesh, the sticky hollow sound of your cunt swallowing all of him.

you feel his knees brace against either side of your hips again, adjusting his posture a little. his arm around your throat tightens to your near limit, his head nudges against your neck, his lips whispering against your cheek.

this way he uses your neck as leverage to anchor is body to allow him to fuck his cock into you a little faster, a little rougher.

“yeah, baby, yeah. take all of me. all of me.” san’s voice drops into a breathy purr, pressing his lips directly against your ear, the soft skin tickling you. “givin this pussy a workout hm?”

you groan and kick your feet, and he laughs at you as hand from the arm he’s got your neck trapped in buries itself in your tangled hair and yanks your head to the side so you’re fully facing the mirror, your ear resting below his jaw.

“you like to be lazy. you like to lie here— fuck… lie here and take dick, helpless and limp. let sannie do all the work huh, princess? let this pussy do all the work for you?”

he turns his head and your eyes catch in the mirror. his eyes are lidded, competent and heated. yours are foggy, tear-glazed, spent. he smiles at your expression and growls under his breath when you clench around his dick again.

his fingers scrape against your scalp with every heavy stroke of his hips, his pretty grunts and moans making your belly twist into swirls.

your hands grasp at the sheets, your cries coming out choked and breathy then more san fucked you, and he seemingly forgot that you needed to breathe until you tapped on his bicep to tell him to let up.

he does immediately, loosening the hold on your throat. you gasp and choke, but he doesn’t stop moving his hips, fucking you slow and deep while you regain your breath.

“aww, ‘m sorry babydoll.” he kisses your temple and you could feel him giggle against your skin. his voice lowers to that brain ticking whisper and you feel your air stolen from you again.

“bet you would’ve looked so pretty passed out on my cock.” he finally sets down his phone and takes his now free hand and trails it down your body, running along the side of your waist, his hips never stopping that deep, languid push and pull.

“looking all soft and sleepy.” his hand snakes between your body and the bed and finds your clit with his coarse fingertips. you gasp and squirm under him, your body shaking as a plea for mercy. san only laughs, circling upwards against the sensitive nerves while he splits your pussy open, over and over and over again.

“think i could still make you cum in your sleep princess?” he whispers against your throat and you feel as his arm tightens its hold around your throat once again. you feel the bed start to shake and your cunt start to burn with pleasure as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, filling you long and deep at just the right angle.

“mmhm, soak my cock baby.” he growls under a moan, letting his tongue fall from his mouth and tasting the flushed skin on your throat. “make it smell like you.”

he bites his bottom lip and his eyebrows furrow, his cock pounding into you so full he just might had been close to fucking your cervix.

his fingers on your clit continue to move at that dragging, spherical pattern that helps that pressure build slowly. stroke my stroke, praise by praise. you melt under his body while he uses you as he sees fit. your pussy sucks him in everytime he draws back, your pretty little moans make san’s head spin.

“gonna fuck myself to that video everynight while im on tour.” he promises against your skin, your orgasm dangerously close to sweeping you onto the floor. he rolls his hips with every thrust, forcing his fat tip to press against your gspot.

“eee..every n-night..?” you whimper deliriously, his cock effectively having cut off all cognitive function, a stupid smile spread across your face.

he laughs and kisses your shoulder as he rolls his hips a little harder. “mhm, every night baby. i'll send you some videos so this pussy-” he thrusts hard this time, as if acknowledging her himself. “-doesn't miss me too much. want you to remember how good i make you feel while i'm gone.”

you shake violently when his tip nudges that spot just right, and right at that moment you cum on the spot. your limbs jerk and twitch and once san’s felt you cumming he eases his hips into a faster rut, pounding your pussy through your orgasm, fucking you through it.

“there we go, there we go. let it take you baby, keep cumming, keep cumming for me.” he pinches your clit and teases it with gentle brushes while he mounts you on his mattress.

his arm is covered in your drool, the red indentations of your bite marks inflamed on his skin. san looks back at you in the mirror, and you’re too out of it to notice as he pulls out his phone again and starts to record the reflection.

your eyes are shut and your brows are furrowed in bliss, lips parted in pathetic whines, your cheek resting against his bicep. he keeps his eyes on the mirror as your face twists in overstimulation when he starts to grind his cock deep into you.

his muscles flex, and he can feel the strain in his wrist from continually holding the camera up to capture you two. your shoulder twitches every time he bottoms out into your pussy, and your eyelids flutter every time he presses his palm against your lower stomach. he catches every change in expression, every twitch of your body, every lilt in your moans.

he always misses you so bad when hes away, so he always makes sure he fucks you so unbelievably well that you could probably do without him for at least a few days.

until you’re sore, or your stomach burns, or you physically can’t cum anymore. and he’ll be so methodic, so thorough, so gentle. anything to get you satiated for the first few days in his absence.

he's gotta work you out of his system somehow anyway, or else he'll be a horny, delirious wreck on tour.

the videos help with his withdrawal symptoms.

[plutotheplum]

Take All My Love

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: to your chagrin, you get partnered with an irritating DSO agent who happens to take an interest in the case you're working on.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, re9!leon, fbi!reader, age gap, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, p in v, spanking, choking, finger sucking, brat taming, praise kink

wc: 10k

a/n: obsession's gotten so bad i started having dreams about him <3

also on ao3!

There’s a man sitting at your desk. 

You’d arrived at work a little before 9, steaming cup of coffee in hand and a stack of case files tucked under your arm haphazardly. It was only until you’d heard the curious, hushed whispers that you’d realized your desk was currently taken, occupied by an unfamiliar man clad in a leather jacket. 

Were you being relocated? Promoted? Demoted? 

A barrage of thoughts flits through your mind as you approach your desk slowly, mentally preparing yourself to give the man a piece of your mind. The man doesn’t even flinch when the case files drop onto your desk loudly, your coffee cup following soon after as you set it down roughly before crossing your arms over your chest.

“Can I help you?”

His head tilts towards you, shaggy hair shifting as his gaze travels over you with interest. You stare back at him blankly, brows furrowing when you take in the scruffy stubble covering his jaw and the weathered look to his skin. He had to be at least twice your age, but even you could admit the man was stupidly handsome. You’re only left with more questions than you started with as you continue to stare at him, feeling bewildered. The flex of his gloved fingers catch in your periphery, distracting you as you glance down to find him piecing together a disassembled gun with practiced ease, the parts set out neatly on your desk. 

His voice is gruff when he speaks. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“You… were expecting me?” you ask, irritation seeping into your voice, patience growing thin. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s brows raise at your blunt question, fingers still moving deftly, his eyes flickering with mirth. 

“You know, the FBI promised me a warm welcome,” he says, the chair swiveling as he turns to face you fully. “Can’t exactly say you’re delivering on that promise.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t make any promises,” you retort, giving him a tight smile, watching as he leans forward, sliding his newly assembled gun back into its holster. “Besides, you still haven’t answered my question.”

He sighs, leaning forward, his arm outstretched as he offers you his hand. “Leon–”

He’s interrupted by the Unit Chief calling out your name. Your eyes narrow when you see the case file in his hands, glancing back at Leon before you leave him, stepping inside the Unit Chief’s office, the door clicking shut behind you.

“We’ve got two new bodies,” he says, handing you the case file. “Unsub’s been crossing jurisdictions and the local police department is… well, concerned to say the least. Think you can handle it?”

You nod, flicking through the pages, nose scrunching when you see the images of the crime scene – each more grisly than the last. Mutilated bodies, blood smeared across the walls, messily carved symbols etched into the wooden door of the victims’ home.

“Seems ritualistic,” you murmur, reading through the reports. You glance up at him, clutching the case file to your chest protectively. “You’re letting me take this alone? I’m flattered.”

“Ah,” the Unit Chief shakes his head, nodding towards Leon. “Not exactly.”

“What?” you scoff, looking at Leon who gives you a smile and waves through the glass. You glare at him, yanking the blinds shut. “The old man?” you hiss, “he’ll only slow me down.”

The Unit Chief sighs, taking a seat in his chair. “That man is Leon Kennedy. DSO. It’s only a precaution. He’s more experienced than any team we could put together and after what happened with Agent Ashcroft, the FBI is trying to be more… mindful.”

“Ashcroft?” you echo, remembering the Rhodes Hill incident. “That’s– that’s because they sent an analyst into the field of all things. She must’ve been terrified. I’m a field agent, I can handle myself.”

“Agent Kennedy took an interest in the case,” he replies, hands clasping together. “If there’s bioterrorism involved, he’ll be useful. If there isn’t, use him as an idea board. The Unit Chief peers up at you, his expression stern. “My decision is final.”

Your jaw works irritatedly before you huff out a heavy breath, nodding reluctantly. “Yes, sir.”

Despite your sour mood and the urge to slam the door shut, you carefully close it, making your way back to Leon. You drag a spare chair towards your desk, sinking down onto it. Leon shakes his head when you offer him the case file.

“I’ve already read it.”

“Huh,” you stare at him, lips pursing while your eyes squint in recognition. “Leon Scott Kennedy,” you drawl, jabbing your finger at him, “you’re the Raccoon City cop. I’ve heard stories about you. Shouldn’t you be…” you gesture to him pointedly, “retired?”

“Ouch,” Leon says, his hand moving to press against his chest as he feigns being hurt. “You really don’t want me here, do you?”

“All I know is that you’re some big-shot DSO agent that I don’t need on my case, Leon,” you shoot back, flipping open the file to read the autopsy reports more thoroughly.

“The first case you’ve ever been in charge of,” Leon muses, his leather gloves creaking softly as he picks up a stray pen, putting it back into its place. “I’m impressed. Not everyone gets to be a lead on a case like this. Then again, you’re pretty good at this kinda thing.”

Was he buttering you up? He had to be. You don’t bother looking up as you mark a few things of interest off on the report.

“Thank you,” you murmur, scrawling a few notes down on a notepad before you pause, head turning to find him watching you carefully. “How did you know that?” you ask, a hint of suspicion in your voice, “we’ve never met before.”

Leon shifts, grunting softly as he tries to get more comfortable in your chair. “I took the liberty of reading your file,” he replies flippantly, his expression darkening as he tries to work the chair’s jammed lever. “Fuckin’ chair… how do you sit in this all day?”

“I don’t sit all day!” you snap, “and you read my file? I don’t care if you have the fucking clearance, you can’t just–” 

You’re interrupted by a loud snap, teeth gritting together when you realize he’s pushed the lever too hard – or perhaps, underestimated his own strength – the lever cleanly detached and now clutched in Leon’s gloved hand. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmurs, setting the lever down on your desk, patting it awkwardly. “I’ll buy you a new chair.”

You have half a mind to reach over and strangle him. You even consider doing it, until he grumbles under his breath and shrugs off that jacket of his, your murderous intent forgotten as soon as you catch sight of his thick biceps. With those things, Leon could probably strangle you and have no problem doing it. 

The sheer size of him renders you incapable of tearing your gaze away, your stare settled firmly on his shoulders, arms and chest – every part of him unfairly thick and muscular – his skin-tight shirt leaving you barely conscious of the way your throat was beginning to dry up. 

Your newly broken chair creaks once more under Leon’s weight, the sound piercing through the haze of your shameless staring. You blink uncertainly, taking another lingering peek at his biceps while he’s too busy trying to get comfortable. 

“We’d better get going,” you announce, grabbing the file before standing up abruptly. “The local PD is probably waiting for us.”

“We can take my car,” Leon says as he follows you into the elevator.

“I’m not in the habit of getting into cars with strange men,” you say testily, pressing a button before turning to face him. 

“And I’m not in the habit of babysitting FBI agents,” Leon drawls, leaning against the wall of the elevator, his arms crossing over his chest. 

The movement makes his shirt stretch tighter if anything, the fabric clinging to his broad forearms stubbornly, his watch glinting softly in the lighting. Your head tilts, eyes narrowing with irritation when you register his insult. 

“No one asked you to babysit,” you say, shaking your head. “I have a gun,” you take it out of the holster attached to your hip, pointing it at him, “and I’m smart. I’ll have this case wrapped up in a day or two, so stay the fuck outta my way.”

A smile pulls at his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he lifts his hands in mock-surrender. The amusement in his eyes makes him look a little younger, your heart fluttering with delight for a moment before you tamp it down violently. 

When the elevator comes to a stop, Leon takes your bag before you can protest, his gloved fingers brushing yours briefly. You step after him, brows raising with begrudging respect when you see his car. Big-shot DSO agent, your mind supplies as he puts your bag into the backseat, gesturing for you to get in. You sigh heavily, opening your mouth to argue but Leon’s already disappeared inside his car, the engine rumbling to life. Muttering a curse under your breath, you get in his car, pulling the door shut firmly. 

–

“What do you mean there’s only one room available?”

“What’s there to understand?” Leon asks, dangling the singular key in front of your face. “Rooms are all booked out. They’re celebrating some special harvest festival according to the receptionist.”

“Harvest festival?” you echo, peering up at him. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. That’s like the perfect cover for our unsub.”

“I would help,” he murmurs, nudging your shoulder gently to get you to step aside, “but you wanted me to, what was it?” you roll your eyes when he snaps his fingers, pretending to think. “Ah yes, stay the fuck outta your way.”

You snatch the key hanging from Leon’s finger, ignoring his aggrieved sigh as you push past him and stomp back down the stairs to the reception, ready to demand another room. All the receptionist does is give you an apologetic smile and offer you a discount. You swallow your pride as you trudge back up the stairs, doing your best to avoid Leon’s eyes when you find him leaning beside the room’s door, his brows raising amusedly.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you mutter, slotting the key into the lock.

Leon shrugs non-committally. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

The door is heavy as you push it open, Leon’s hand moving to keep it open for you as you step inside. You fumble in the darkness for the light switch at the same time Leon does, his strong, calloused fingers brushing over yours. It’s enough to have an unwanted shiver running down your spine, warmth blooming in your chest and a flush settling high on your cheeks despite your stubborn annoyance with him. 

“Fuck me.”

You follow his gaze when he swears, taking in the lit room. There’s a shitty couch in one corner, a tiny area with a coffee machine and table, and… a bed. 

“Okay,” you say slowly, staring at the one, pitiful bed you had been afforded. “Great! So I think you should go and chew out the receptionist.”

“I’m not doing that,” Leon scoffs, bending down to take off his boots, his gun clattering against the table as he sets it down. “I can take the couch.”

You look back at the couch, brows furrowing. “That’s really nice of you and all, Leon,” you begin, stepping further inside the small room, “but I don’t think you’re exactly going to fit.”

“You care about me or something?” he drawls, looking over at you with a smile as he opens his duffle bag to pull out a towel and a set of clothes. 

“Get over yourself. I’m just worried about your…” you gesture towards him vaguely, “potentially geriatric bones.”

Leon chokes on a laugh, his brows shooting up. “Geriatric? I’m 49. My bones are in perfect working order.”

“Right, nevermind. You did break my chair.”

“I did you a favor,” he retorts, slinging the towel around the back of his neck. “It was a hunk of junk.”

“It was in perfect working condition!” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Do you always defend inanimate objects with such passion?” Leon muses, stepping closer until he’s only a few inches away, head cocking to the side.

“When they’re close to my heart, yes.”

“A chair is close to your heart?”

You decide to double down. “Yes, Leon.”

“Huh,” he nods slowly, clicking his tongue. “You got attachment issues?”

“Did my file not tell you that?” you smile up at him snarkily.

Leon grins, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I skipped over your psych eval.”

He turns, disappearing into the bathroom. You glare at the door and huff out a sigh, removing your shoes before grabbing the case file and flopping down on the bed tiredly. You flick through the pages absentmindedly, settling on the symbols carved onto the door. You hadn’t seen anything remotely like it before and the database search you’d done earlier in the car had come up empty. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, glancing towards the bathroom.

You’d exhausted all your options save for one. A reluctant groan leaves you as you stand, approaching the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hey, Leon?” you call out when you hear the spray of water come to a stop. “I… might have been a little difficult earlier,” your voice sounds strained, “but if you could maybe take another look at the file, then I would… you know, probably appreciate it or whatever.” You swallow, face twisting with discomfort. “Please?”

Leon laughs, the rich, deep sound seeping through the crevices. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he says, sounding entirely too entertained by your attempt to ask him for help. “I’ll take a look for you.”

You frown at the door, jolting when it swings open suddenly. A few wisps of steam escape, and you blink owlishly, finding yourself face-to-face with his bare chest. It’s hard to keep your gaze from wandering over his exposed skin, a light dusting of hair covering his chest coupled with a few scars. A strange, gurgling noise escapes you when he shifts back to grab his towel, his broad, muscled back now visible to you. You sway, moving to grip the doorframe, knees feeling weak. 

“You okay?” Leon murmurs, glancing over at you as he ruffles his damp hair, brows furrowing.

“Yes!”

Your voice is shrill, pitching up awkwardly until you clear your throat and give him an equally awkward smile. 

“Perfectly fine,” you clarify, this time sounding breathless as you try and fail to not look down, inhaling sharply when you see his defined abdomen and the dark, coarse hair below his navel, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“It’s just that you look…” you trail off, fingers itching to reach out and squeeze and touch. Hot. Attractive. Fuckable. Really fucking fuckable for a 49-year-old man. “Like shit,” you settle on, the words tumbling out of you in a strained manner as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “You– you look like shit, Leon.” You pat his shoulder jerkily. “Unfortunately.”

“Right, sure,” he says, his head tilting as he stares down at you, unconvinced. “You really know how to flatter a man.”

“I’m charming like that,” you say, hands clasping behind your back. 

Leon hums, and you stare back up at him, gaze flitting away for one moment to get a glimpse of his left hand. No ring. Perfect. You pinch yourself as soon as the thought comes.

“You gonna let me out?”

“What?”

When Leon gestures towards you, you realize you’re still standing in front of him, blocking the way out. You move to the side sheepishly, pushing the case file into his chest quickly before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You let out an embarrassed groan once you’re in the shower, burying your face into your hands. What the fuck was wrong with you? There was no way that all it took was some dorky, attractive, older man to have you feeling out of sorts. A dull ache flares between your thighs at the thought of Leon, fingers sneaking past your folds to rub at your traitorously swollen clit. It doesn’t take much, just the image of his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you, mouth pressed against your ear while he grunts–

You cum with a muffled whine. Scrubbing the rest of your mortification off of your skin with soap, you dry off, slipping into a pair of sleep shorts and a hoodie. You pad out of the bathroom to find Leon sitting at the table – thankfully with a shirt on – a few containers of food littered across its surface while he’s hunched over his laptop.

“Hey,” he greets when he sees you, gaze travelling over you briefly before turning his laptop towards you. “I had a look. Your guy might be part of a cult,” Leon brings up another image, showing it to you, “they’re not the exact same, but similar enough. Might be worth looking into.”

“Cult? That’s fun,” you murmur, dropping into the chair beside him, watching as he runs his hair through his hair. “Thank you for taking a look, and the food.”

His brows raise. “Those might be the most sincere words to come out of you today.”

“Shut up,” you say, although a small smile pulls at your lips.

Dinner is quick as you both make a plan for tomorrow – visit the local PD, check out the crime scene and investigate a few related areas of interest. Leon settles down on the couch soon after, adjusting his pillow a few times before grunting as he tries to get comfortable. You were right, he doesn’t fit. He looks so awfully crammed, knees bent and back hunched at an awkward angle that even you feel bad about it.

“Leon,” you say exasperatedly, “we can both fit on the bed. That can’t be good for your back.”

“This is fine,” he replies stubbornly, shifting onto his back uncomfortably, arm hanging off the edge. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

“I can’t deal with you complaining about your back tomorrow,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. You lay down, squirming to the side to make space. “See? You can have the other side.”

“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“What?” you ask confusedly, sitting up on your elbows. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Leon grunts as he gets to his feet, dropping down onto the bed without further protests. It’s a tight fit, but you both manage, a sliver of space left between your bodies. You stare up at the ceiling, lips pursing, feeling antsy. 

“Did you…” you glance over at him, feeling entirely too bold for your own good, “did you ask because you were interested?”

He stares back, brows raising. “Interested in what?”

“In what?” you repeat irritably, “are you seriously playing dumb?”

Leon smiles back at you, shrugging lazily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe if you clarified what it was you wanted from me–”

“I don’t want anything from you!” you sputter, flushing hot. The bed creaks as you flop onto your side, facing away from him. “You’re old and weird and infuriating and–”

“I feel like you’re avoiding my better qualities.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, I know you want to, baby.”

It’s a miracle your neck doesn’t snap with how fast you turn to look at him. 

“May I remind you that this,” you gesture between your bodies wildly, “is a professional relationship?”

“Yeah?” Leon murmurs, raising his brows, “is that why you got off in the shower? Rubbed one out to make yourself feel better ‘bout liking me?” He looks unfazed when your jaw slackens, tapping the wall behind his head. “Thin walls.”

“That is none of your business.” You lean closer, eyes narrowing in an attempt to hide your growing embarrassment. “HR is going to have a fucking field day with you.”

You flop back onto your side, trying to put some distance between you, but there’s such a little space on the bed that you end up half-dangling over the edge. Leon doesn’t say anything, the silence between you thick and stretching on uncomfortably until you sit up, turning to face him.

He stares back at you, the bed creaking softly as he shifts, folding an arm under his head. His shirt stretches tight, thick bicep flexed and the sight is enough to make you lose your last nerve. 

Your hand cups his jaw, head dipping to press a kiss to his lips. It’s meant to be quick, fleeting, to get whatever the fuck you have bottled up inside of you. Leon doesn’t seem to agree as he returns your kiss roughly, stubble scratching against your skin, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, blocking your escape.

“Where’re you going?” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours.

“This–” you whine softly when he kisses the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening into his shirt. “This is a bad idea.”

“I happen to be full of those.”

“You’re so fucking corny,” you groan, mouth dropping open as he trails kisses along your jaw lazily.

His lips are soft, calloused fingers massaging your scalp whilst an arm slides around your waist to pull you into his side. Another whine escapes you, head tipping towards him as his hand wanders under the hem of your hoodie, hot skin drifting over your waist and higher, his thumb grazing the curve of your breast.

“And you’re a fucking brat,” Leon says, watching your expressions closely as you whine and pant, pulling him towards you for another kiss, arms wrapping around his neck tightly. 

He groans into your mouth, lips slotting over yours feverishly, his hand squeezing at the back of your neck. You squirm, throwing your leg over his hip, mewling when he licks into your mouth. Leon’s a good kisser, you think dazedly as his tongue strokes against yours in a filthy motion that has heat blistering in your stomach. His hand moves, circling around the front of your throat, squeezing gently.

You blink up at him hazily when he pulls away, lips slick with spit and pupils blown out. A smile spreads across your lips as you arch into him, hands sliding up over his strong forearm, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“You can squeeze harder,” you whisper, pressing his fingers into your skin harder, gasping when he grants your request, eyes rolling back as the pressure around your throat constricts.

“That’s a little fucked up, baby,” Leon breathes out, watching as you writhe and suck in a ragged breath, his brows furrowing. 

His brows raise when you glare at him, leaning over you to let his nose nudge against yours, kissing you gently before he tightens his grip a little more, drawing out a choked noise from you. There’s a heady fog settling over your mind the more he keeps you from barely breathing, something slow and syrupy creeping into the crevices of your brain as he presses a kiss to your cheek. He’s letting go before long though, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips roughly. 

“I can handle it,” you mumble hoarsely, head tipping as he massages your throat, huffing out a breath when he laughs against your cheek.

“Yeah?” Leon rasps, his gaze darkening when you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digit needily, head lifting as you feign bobbing your head. “What, you want me to put you in your place or something? Is that what you need?”

The idea is appealing. You’ve been strung tight for months, between work and the never-ending cases that were stacking up on your desk, you hadn’t exactly gotten much time to yourself, to wind-down from the constant wear and tear brought about by the commitments demanded from you by the FBI.

“Maybe,” you say slowly, looking away. “I don’t know. I guess I just want some… attention or whatever.”

“From me?” Leon says, his fingers sliding over your jaw to guide your gaze back to him. “Your way of asking for attention is acting bratty?”

“I don’t know!” you sputter, pushing at his chest, feeling shy. 

“Oh, that’s cute,” he coos, smiling down at you. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll give you all the attention you fuckin’ need.”

You squeak when he moves suddenly, sitting up before he’s dragging you towards him, maneuvering you until you're bent over his lap. A whimper is punched out of you when he squeezes the fat of your ass through your shorts, lashes fluttering when each consecutive grope grows rougher until it stings lightly.

“Guess if you’re into choking, you should be into something like this,” Leon murmurs thoughtfully, squeezing your ass greedily. “‘s been a while since I’ve done this with someone.”

“Since you’ve– ah– groped someone?” you ask, hips wiggling when his touches disappear, ass lifting involuntarily to chase after his touch.

“Kissed, touched,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “groped… fucked.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, brows raising curiously. “Can you still get it up?”

A sharp yelp escapes you when his hand comes down on your ass, hard and punishing. It stings, the pain spreading out over your ass unforgivingly. You try and glare at him but his hand is coming down again, landing another heavy spank to your other ass cheek. 

“It was just a question!” you protest, squeaking when he spanks you again and again, eyes squeezing shut as the red-hot pain spreads over your ass, the ache in your pussy beginning to burrow deeper.

“I know,” Leon murmurs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “Do you want me to stop?”

You pout into the sheets, voice quiet. “No.”

He huffs out a soft laugh, tapping your hip. You lift them, letting him tug your shorts down, mewling softly when he squeezes your ass, his fingers dipping past your panties, stretching them before letting them snap back against your skin.

“Cute panties,” he says, his hand rubbing over your stinging ass, fingers sneaking between your thighs, brushing over the drenched, ruined fabric. “Too bad you’ve made them all messy, baby. So fucking wet for me. You like my hand on your ass?”

“Yes,” you grumble, glaring at the wall. “Stop asking stupid questions, you jerk.”

You jolt when he spanks you, letting out an agitated breath when his hand palms over ass before coming down again in several repeated motions. A whimper escapes you when pleasure bleeds through your body, teeth sinking into your lower lip when the pace of Leon’s slaps quicken. It hurts but feels so good all the same, your thighs trying to squeeze together with how uncomfortably wet your pussy is becoming.

“Don’t– fuck! Don’t stop,” you mewl, arching your back, tears prickling at your eyes. “Leon– please ah–”

“Please?” Leon echoes, “look at that, you’re back to being polite. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You whine in agreement, nodding dazedly as you look back at him, unfocused eyes finding his lopsided smile, heart fluttering in your chest. You reach back for him, hand fighting his shirt, lips parting, eyes slipping shut when he leans towards you, head dropping to kiss you deeply, his fingers squeezing at your ass gently.

“You gonna stop being a brat? Hm? You wanna be my good girl, baby?” Leon rasps against your lips, stealing another soft kiss, his hands still palming at the blistering flesh of your ass, squeezing every now and again to force a pitiful whine out of you. He clicks his tongue when you slur, nose nudging against yours gently. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. Use your words for me.”

“Yes,” you manage out, pushing your ass back into his greedy, awaiting palm, a few stray tears dripping down your cheeks. “‘m gonna be– nghh– ‘m gonna be your good girl, Leon.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, voice sounding rough as his thumb strokes over your cheek, wiping away the tears. “My sweet, pretty girl.”

“It– it hurts,” you babble, jerking in his lap when he rains an unsuspecting slap down onto your ass, teary eyes rolling back when his fingers slip between your thighs suddenly, rubbing at your swollen, aching clit through the dampened fabric of your panties. “Leon– ah fuck!”

“I know it does,” he soothes, pressing harder against your clit until your legs kick up, “but you asked for this, baby. Remember? You came up to me all pretty and said you wanted attention.”

“Stop being mean,” you hiccup, leaning into his palm when he offers it to you, nuzzling into the warm, rough skin.

“Mean?” Leon whispers, “‘m taking care of you, sweetheart.” He hums as he wipes away the saliva beading at the corner of your mouth, spreading it over your lips before his thumb presses down more firmly, a grunt of satisfaction leaving him when your lips part obediently. “There you go,” he breathes out, “suck on my thumb while I play with this needy, little pussy, baby.”

You whine, fingers clinging to his wrist as you suck lazily, tongue swirling around his thumb. His fingers rub against your wet panties, drawing out a soft mewl from you as he pets your clothed pussy.

“You can take them off,” you mumble around his thumb, biting gently before sucking again, happy to have your mouth occupied. “Want you to touch me.”

“I kinda like ‘em on,” Leon murmurs, his fingers grabbing at your thighs before they move, slipping past the waistband. “Besides, I can touch you like this.”

Your eyes flutter shut when his fingers glide through your sticky, puffy folds, breath hitching while Leon groans when he feels your wet pussy. His fingers are thicker than yours, slipping over the soft skin before the calloused pads find your clit. Your thighs twitch, toes curling when he starts to rub your clit using slow, measured circles.

“Is this how you do it?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Did you play with your clit til you came in the shower?”

“Mhm,” you nod, peering up at him, lashes fluttering. You lap at his thumb, tongue flicking against the tip playfully, letting him watch. 

“Fuck,” Leon rumbles, his thumb brushing over your bottom teeth before rubbing against your tongue. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. Look at you.”

You smile, lips wrapping back around his thumb soon after, eyes rolling back when his fingers leave your clit to play with your fluttering hole. A long whine leaves you when he circles your hole teasingly, the tip of a finger pressing in briefly before he draws them back out to rub at your clit.

“Put ‘em in,” you mewl, hips beginning to roll against his hand, one of your hands squirming underneath you to try and move his wrist. “Leon,” you grumble, pulling his thumb out of your mouth when he tries to press against your tongue again. “Put ‘em in.”

“What happened to being polite?” he muses, dipping his finger in again and then pulling it out. 

“If you put ‘em in, I’ll be polite,” you reply, blinking up at him sweetly, a smug smile on your face.

Leon laughs, watching as your mouth drops open when he finally inches one finger inside of your clenching pussy, beginning to slowly fuck it in and out of you.

“Go on then,” he coaxes, “beg all pretty for me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“P– nghh– please fuck me with your fingers,” you whimper, fingers moving to rub at your throbbing clit. “Please, Leon? Want– fuck– want another finger.”

He doesn’t make you beg any further, sinking another finger into you. You shove your face into the sheets, hips wiggling back to meet the thrust of his fingers, your fingers quickening their pace against your clit. 

“Taking me so good,” Leon murmurs, using his other hand to spread you open. You flush, feeling entirely too exposed as he stares down at your pussy stretching around his fingers. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy just sucking my fingers in.”

Your walls flutter around his fingers at that, hand reaching out for him blindly, fingers managing to curl into his shirt. You yank him down, mumbling something incoherent around his lips before dragging him down further, lips pressing against his. You moan into his mouth when he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you harder, curling them just right. 

“Leon,” you pant against his mouth, biting his lower lip before tugging it. Leon groans, his fingers scissoring before you moan again, lapping at his lips. His eyes roll back when your lips find his neck, head tipping to bare more of it to you until you manage to move, crawling up onto his lap, his fingers slipping out of you momentarily.

His back hits the bed when you push at his chest, his fingers finding your pussy again, thumb rubbing at your clit while his fingers sink back inside. You shove your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in with a mewl, pawing at his firm chest as you let your hips drop, fucking yourself on his fingers.

“You gonna do that on my cock?” Leon moans, his fingers tangling in your hair when you kiss his neck feverishly, teeth scraping against his throat, the action enough to draw a hoarse growl from him. “Gonna ride my cock like you’re riding my fingers, gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” you murmur against his neck, latching onto his skin and sucking, all with the intent of leaving a mark of your own, like he had done on your ass. “Wanna– ahhh– wanna ride your cock, Leon.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, an arm clamping around your waist to hold you flush against him, his thumb pressing against your clit harder, the lewd noises of your pussy growing louder with every snap of his wrist. “You’re gonna drive me fucking insane.”

You smile against his throat, kissing the underside of his jaw when his throat bobs uncertainly.

“We haven’t even fucked yet,” you whisper, fingers slipping into his hair, pulling at the strands to make him expose his neck further, drawing out a pretty whine from his lips. “Think you can handle me?”

Your smile fades when his fingers pull out of you suddenly, a sharp yelp leaving you when he grabs your hips and manhandles you onto your stomach, the fabric of your panties tearing loudly as he rips them off of you and pulls your ass into the air. 

“Those were comfy!” you protest, glaring at him. “Leon?” you jolt when he slaps your ass hard, pulling your asscheeks apart. “Leon, wait– ah fuck!”

You squeal when he buries his face between your thighs, lurching forward unsteadily on your knees, hands grabbing out for the pillows. He’s ruthless, tongue gliding through your warm folds, drinking down your slick with a rough growl, his hands squeezing at your hips, tugging you back onto his mouth when you try and squirm away. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw isn’t helping, scratching against your skin deliciously as he nips and spits onto your cunt.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snaps lowly, biting punishingly into your thigh when you try kicking at his chest. “Huh?”

“I didn’t–” your leg jerks when Leon bites the back of your thigh, fingers curling into the pillows tightly when he bites the fat of your ass soon after, tongue laving over the bite.

“You didn’t what?” Leon asks, thumb finding your swollen bud, his tongue drifting over the inner crease of your thigh, barely shy of your aching pussy. “You didn’t mean it, is that it, baby?” he drawls, wet fingers rubbing over your pussy. 

“Yes!” you choke out, hand slapping against the pillow when he sucks your clit into his mouth lazily, his nose pressing into your pussy, rough hands massaging your ass. “I– nghhhh– I didn’t mean it, Leon.”

“Oh, I think you did,” he sighs heavily, feigning disappointment. He clicks his tongue condescendingly. “I thought you were being my sweet girl, but turns out you’ve just got one hell of a mean streak. Just can’t help being a bit bratty, can you, pretty baby?”

“I’m not a brat,” you wail, shoving your face into the pillows the same time he presses his face into your pussy.

You don’t think anyone’s touched you like this before, let alone used their mouth like this. Leon’s strong, his hands clamping down onto you to keep you in place as he flicks his tongue over your clit, teeth scraping over the sensitive bud. You drool messily, whimpering and whining as he laps at your cunt, his tongue prodding against your hole.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, glancing behind you, eyes wide to find Leon looking at you hungrily, his gaze dark and feral. You swallow nervously, thighs twitching when he kisses the curve of your ass. “Leon, Leon– oh fuck!”

A squeal escapes you when he presses his tongue into your clenching cunt, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that you feel dizzy, hips pressing back needily to meet the movements of his tongue. He fucks it into you, head tilting as he holds you against his mouth, a hand moving under your hoodie to stroke over the length of your back. 

You arch, mewling, hips swaying dazedly as he caresses your pussy with his tongue. A soft, ragged moan leaves you when his mouth moves, returning to your clit, toes curling when he presses his fingers back into you.

“You sound so pretty falling apart on my tongue,” Leon murmurs, rubbing his tongue over your clit with a groan, his fingers crooking inside of you. “You gonna cum, baby? Pretty pussy’s clenching around my fingers.”

“Nghhh–” you slur into the pillows, trying and failing to keep your eyes open, your lids drooping shut when his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his fingers rubbing over it with just the right amount of pressure. 

His stubble brushes against the backs of your thighs, lips soft as he trails hot kisses all over your skin. Your hips jerk when he fucks his fingers into you harder and faster, the pressure in your lower stomach growing greater. When his mouth latches back onto you, you moan loudly, knees beginning to buckle.

“Fuck! ‘m gonna cum– ‘m gonna fucking cum, Leon,” you whine, hugging the pillow to your chest, a sharp breath of air leaving you.

“Cum then, sweetheart,” he whispers, “be a good girl and cum for me.”

You cry out when he sucks harder on your clit, his face pressing harder into you, nose buried into your pussy. Leon groans loudly, the vibration shooting up through you, making your pussy clench around his fingers tightly. Your body trembles, knees giving out finally when his tongue flicks at your clit, another moan tearing its way out of your throat as you cum.

“That’s it,” Leon snarls, managing to hold you up despite your arms feeling rubber. “Cum just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You whimper, still twitching as he laps at your cunt gently, tongue sweeping over your folds as he slurps down your slick, his thumb rubbing against your clit to draw out the final waves of your orgasm while his fingers slow their pace inside of you before pulling out completely.

Leon’s body is hot when he hovers above you, his hands brushing away the sweaty hair clinging to your skin, head dipping to press soft kisses to your cheek, his stubble oddly soothing as it rubs along your skin.

“You okay?” he asks softly, hands drifting down over your back, squeezing your waist soothingly, hands petting at your still reddened and slightly bruised ass. “I guess I’ve been a little pent up.”

“A little?” you murmur, fingers sliding into his hair when he kisses your neck. “I think you’re more than a little pent up, Leon.”

He grunts in agreement, dropping another kiss to your neck before laying down on his back, letting out a heavy breath. 

“I haven’t exactly had time to relax,” he sighs, “too many fucking responsibilities ever since Raccoon City.”

You hum, sitting up, arms still a little wobbly. Leon watches you, his eyes tracking your every movement. You smile at him, eyes twinkling, fingers hooking into the hem of your hoodie before you pull it up over your head, tossing it to the side. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your breasts, hand reaching out before he pauses mid-reach. You take his hand, pulling it toward your breast, smile growing wider when he squeezes.

“Are my tits helping you relax?” you ask innocently, hands landing on his chest as you swing a leg over his hip, straddling him.

“Guess so,” Leon says, his other hand joining the fray, squeezing your untouched breast. “Pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you let him play with your tits, distracted momentarily by the way his fingers move – pinching and tugging, thumb sweeping over your hardened nipples. It’s when you shift on his lap that you become aware of how hard his cock is, hips rolling against the clothed length.

“To answer your question,” he murmurs, tracing the curve of your breast, gently cupping one in his hand, thumb stroking over the soft flesh. “I can, in fact, still get it up.”

You snort, unable to stop the laugh that bubbles out of you. Leon grins back, his head tilting as he peers up at you, hands sliding down over your sides to grab your waist.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second,” you breathe out, voice laced with amusement, your hands beginning to pull at his shirt. He helps you, lifting his arms so that you’re able to pull it up over his head easily. “You do look pretty good for a 49-year-old.”

You lean forward, kissing him gently before you trail kisses down his neck and over his chest, lips brushing over his thick pecs. Leon sighs, his eyes slipping shut, a hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to lay his skin with kisses. You kiss his scars tentatively, squirming lower to kiss his abdomen, tongue darting out to trace the defined ridges of his abdomen.

“You tryna make me cum?” Leon rasps, half-lidded eyes watching you as you bite at his side playfully.

“That is a priority, yes,” you say, following the trail of coarse hair that lies under his navel and the thick bulge laying further down.

His hands in your hair tighten when you nuzzle into his sweatpants, nose brushing against the fabric. When you breathe in, you can smell him, all heady and musky and arousal is seeping into your bones once more, mouth sucking at his clothed cock.

“As much fuck– I would like that,” he grumbles, hips bucking when you mouth at him again, spit dampening his sweatpants, “I’ll cum if you put your mouth on me, baby.”

“Just one suck,” you mumble stubbornly, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down. 

Your eyes widen when his cock bobs heavily, struggling with its own weight. You swallow, blinking dazedly as you take in the length and the thickness and the heavy balls that sit underneath. The tip is flushed angrily, darkened and dripping with globs of pre-cum that don’t seem to stop, his cock twitching when you lean towards it slowly.

“It’s big,” you whisper, glancing up at Leon before your eyes find his cock again, pussy beginning to throb as you imagine the stretch. “Really fucking big. You’re– you’re that hard for me?”

Leon grunts, his hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a quick pump. “Yeah, just for you, sweet girl.” He pumps it again, holding his cock towards you. “You said you wanted a taste, go ‘head, pretty baby.”

You don’t need any further invitation, licking your lips hungrily, tongue lolling out. You drag your tongue along the hot length of his cock, feeling the smooth skin and saltiness of his pre-cum. Leon groans, his hips bucking again, another glob of pre-cum dribbling out. You lean forward just in time, catching it on your tongue before your lips wrap around his thick cock.

“Fuck– fuck, baby,” Leon moans, twitching underneath you as you bob your head, beginning to suck. “Your mouth– hah– fuckkk.”

You peer up at him, eyes glittering as you let your tongue swirl around the head before you pull off, pressing a wet, sticky kiss to the tip of his cock. 

“Don’t do that,” he mutters hoarsely, shaking his head, “don’t fucking kiss my cock like you’re fucking in love with it.”

You do it again, brows raising when his cock twitches, looking over to find his hand clenched into the sheets, knuckles nearly white. 

“I think you like it,” you tease, moving to wrap your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. “And… I think your cock likes it too.”

“Fuck me,” he growls, head tipping back when you take his cock back into your mouth, sucking and slurping lewdly. He groans and grunts through it, eyes peeling open to watch you swallow around his cock, your pupils blown wide with lust.

When his head lolls to the side, you take your chance, head dipping before he can stop you to suck one of his balls into your mouth. He tastes so dizzyingly nice, spit beginning to leak from the corners of your mouth. Leon’s cock kicks and you land one last kiss to the tip before he’s pulling you up towards him, muffling your whine with a messy kiss.

“Wanna ride it,” you mumble against his lips, worming closer, breasts squishing up against his firm chest.

Leon doesn’t answer, too busy tipping your head up by your chin to kiss you again, stealing your breath. You paw at his chest, fingers finally latching onto his thick biceps. Squeezing, you moan into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls back up onto his lap. 

Your hips roll, bare pussy gliding along the length of his cock, the tip catching on your newly swollen clit, making you twitch. He refuses to let up with the kisses, groaning into your mouth when you pull at his hair, feverishly swallowing up every little noise that bleeds from your throat.

“Yeah?” he breathes out finally, head tipping back for a moment as he catches his breath, calloused hands squeezing at your hips. “You wanna bounce on it? Hm? This needy pussy of yours need a fat cock to keep it happy, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip, arousal blistering over your skin, lust beginning to cloud your thoughts once more. You press closer, lips brushing against his ear as though telling him a secret. “It needs your fat cock, Leon.”

“C’mere,” he mutters roughly, moving you up onto your knees, hand grasping the base of his cock to hold it steady for you. “Sink down on it, sweetheart.”

You shift, lowering yourself slowly, letting out a muffled gasp when you start to take his cock, the head of it already beginning to stretch out your pussy as it bullies its way past your entrance.

“‘s just so fucking thick,” you moan softly, peering up at him.

Leon hums, his thumb stroking over your lower lip while his other hand strokes over your hip soothingly.

“You got it, baby,” he smiles, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You took my fingers and my mouth so fucking good. Only got a few inches left, yeah?”

Your brows furrow as you bite your lip harder, gasping when you finally take all of him, pussy fluttering around his cock wildly in an attempt to adjust to his sheer size. You feel so full, so much so that you think you can feel him in your stomach.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Leon whispers, his arms wrapping around your waist as he leans against the headboard of the bed. “Take what you need from me, sweetheart. ‘s all yours.”

“Leon,” you mewl, dragging out the syllables of his name, whimpering against his mouth when he kisses your cheek. “I… I can’t,” you say, flushing hot, “it’s too big, I don’t–”

“Good girls don’t give up,” he breathes out, hands moving to squeeze at your waist, “not to mention you were so headstrong earlier. Where’s that attitude now, baby?”

“You fucked it outta me,” you retort poutily, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. 

“And to think you said I was old and weird– shit, baby–”

You relish in the loud, guttural groan he lets out when the walls of your pussy squeeze around him. Nuzzling closer, you kiss the spot under his ear before your hips move, rocking and rolling in a lazy rhythm as you get used to his size. 

“I’m not giving up,” you murmur, glancing up at him as he watches you, head tipping back when his hand moves up over your breasts, slipping between them to wrap around your throat. 

“Atta girl.”

Leon squeezes and you moan, grabbing his wrist as your knees dig into the bedding, hips beginning to rise and fall. He pulls you into a sloppy kiss, growling into your mouth, panting as his tongue slips over yours messily, his thumb prying your mouth open. You pant, tongue lolling out as you ride his cock, the bed creaking from your motions as you fuck yourself on his cock needily.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Leon rasps, watching you with dark eyes, his hair messy and hanging over one side of his face. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You smile at him dopily, breath slowing when his hand tightens, starting to cut off your intake of oxygen. His nose nudges against yours, breath hot as he kisses you, lips working against yours eagerly until his grip loosens, letting you suck in a breath.

“You trust me that much?” Leon asks, smiling back at you with a feral look in his eyes when your hand wraps around his throat. “You think that’s a good idea, sweetheart? You wanna choke me out while you ride my cock?”

“Oh, you can take it,” you whisper, tightening your grip. Your movements don’t slow, thighs smacking against his as you bounce on his lap, your hand landing on his shoulder for leverage as you drop yourself down on his cock harder, setting a firmer rhythm. “Heard you– ahh– kicked ass back at Rhodes Hill.”

He grins, eyes glinting, a ragged noise leaving him when you pant into his mouth, licking at his lips. 

“Yeah, I still hah– got it,” Leon muses, hands squeezing at your ass. 

Your brows furrow when his grip tightens, a moan punched out of you when he grips your hips starting to lift you, using you as he fucks you on his cock. 

“That’s it,” he drawls, controlling the rhythm and you, his forehead pressing against yours as he jerks you up and down his thick, throbbing cock. “Take my fat fuckin’ cock, baby. Cute, little pussy’s just swallowing me up.”

You whimper, hand sliding to cup the nape of his neck, your bodies moving together as his cock carves its way through your pussy, nestling against that spot before it glides out and drives back in. His chest is pressed against yours, firm muscle pressed against your soft breasts, the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing along your clit. 

“Harder,” you whisper, eyes finding his, hips starting to sway back to meet his thrusts when he plants his feet into the bed, knees bending as he fucks his cock up into you. “Want it– nghh– harder, Leon.”

“That might strain my joints, baby,” he says softly, smiling up at you when you huff out an annoyed breath. “What? You were concerned about my bones.”

“Fuck your bones,” you groan, pushing at his chest, squirming off of his lap onto your hands and knees, ass swaying up into the air. You look back at him over your shoulder, hand worming between your thighs to spread yourself open for him, wet, dripping pussy all on display for him. “‘m so empty,” you whisper, voice lilting. “Fill me up?” You bat your lashes, “please?”

Leon mutters a low curse, his chest heaving as he rises up onto his knees, using your ankle to pull you toward him, his hand stroking his cock with uneven motions, knuckles tightening when he sees the slick webbing between your puffy folds and clinging to your thighs.

You’re half-expecting some witty remark, but all Leon does is brush a rough kiss to your shoulder, grunting into your ear before he’s notching the head of his cock against your aching pussy and driving his cock into you.

“Too– fuck! Too fast!” you squeal when he starts thrusting hard and fast, the bed beginning to rock with every snap of his hips.

“But you said you were empty,” Leon rumbles into your ear, “‘m just filling up this needy, pretty fucking cunt for you, sweetheart. So stop squirming,” his hand clamps down on your hips, “and fucking take it.”

You wail into the room, thrashing under him when his hips smack into your ass, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the lewd noises echoing through the small space. He draws moan after moan out of you, his cock pounding into your pussy unforgivingly. You think you can feel it in your throat, his fat cock sliding through your gripping, fluttering walls. 

Leon’s body is draping over your back, his mouth settling right next to your ear as he grunts and groans. Your toes curl, back arching when he pushes down on the small of your back, his breathing ragged as he grinds his impossibly thick cock into you.

“Fuck,” you mewl, spying his flexed bicep near your head, drool pooling into your mouth. Your head tilts as the muscle bulges, all inhibitions lost when you follow the line of his arm to stare hazily at his veiny forearm. You lean towards his bicep, teeth sinking into the thick muscle with a moan.

Leon’s breath hitches, his hips stuttering for a moment when he realizes you’ve bit him before his thrusts start up again, his hot, heavy cock pounding back into your needy pussy. You lick his bicep, tongue laving over his warm skin, eyes rolling back when his arm moves, wrapping around your throat, his bicep pressed up against the side of your neck.

“You keep– fuck– staring at my arms, sweetheart,” Leon rasps, grinning against your cheek when you let out a choked moan, his breath cut off by a low moan of his own. “Is this what you need? A strong arm wrapped around your throat, fat cock pounding into your needy cunt and sweet, little kisses?” He punctuates his question by kissing your temple.

“I– nghhh– need you,” you whine, feeling dazed as he drops his weight onto you a little more, enough so that you can feel every inch of him against your back. 

You can’t really do anything but take it, his skin slapping against yours and breath rough in your ear. When his fingers move, finding your clit to rub the swollen bud, you whimper, clutching the sheets, nails raking against the fabric as the string of pleasure draws tighter.

“‘m gonna cum,” you say hoarsely, cunt clenching around his cock desperately. “Leon– Leon, Leon, Leon!”

“‘m right here, baby,” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek, “taking my cock so well. Doing so– fuck– good for me, yeah? Cum whenever you want, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

Your body jerks when his fingers rub against your clit faster, a ragged scream erupting from you as you cum violently. Leon swears, his grip on you faltering, the arm on your throat drawing away as you twitch on his cock, grasping at the sheets, at the pillows until Leon offers you his hand.

Your fingers lace together with his and you squeeze tightly, gasping uncontrollably until his mouth finds yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. You whimper into his mouth, knees weak and thighs tired, your death-grip on his hand loosening when he soothes you with soft kisses. Your pussy clenches and Leon groans into your mouth, his hips jerking forward unevenly.

“‘m gonna cum too, pretty baby,” he grunts, fingers pushing at your ass gently, hips beginning to pull away. “Greedy, little pussy’s clenching around me too tight, I can’t–”

“Inside,” you mumble, letting your hips sway back tiredly, trying to swallow down the length of his cock. “Cum inside.”

“That’s– shittt– a bad idea, baby,” Leon groans, his head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder as his hips rock into you, pace stuttering.

You can feel his cock throb and twitch, a soft mewl escaping you. “You said you were full of bad ideas.”

Leon lets out a startled laugh, his breath coming out in short, choppy bursts. “I did– hahhh– I did say that. Take my cum then, sweetheart, gonna flood this perfect fuckin’ cunt with cum.”

He grips your hips, thrusting forward with a hard drive of his cock. Leon swears under his breath, his hips jerking into your ass as he cums, cock kicking and throbbing as hot, thick cum floods your pussy.

You let out a contented noise when he moans into your ear, low and guttural, the sound making you feel warm. His softening cock slips out after a few moments and Leon pulls himself away from you, the bed protesting under the weight of you both. You curl up into his side, head dropping over his chest, eyes drooping when you feel the steady beat of his heart.

Leon’s hand settles on your head, stroking over your hair lazily as he pants, chest rising and falling.

“Do you feel relaxed?” you murmur, peering up at him with a sleepy smile.

“I feel fucked out,” Leon mutters, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, rubbing at the spot of drool that had pooled at the corner of your mouth. “You did a number on me, sweetheart.”

“I aim to please.”

He laughs, hauling you closer and you smile, kissing the underside of his jaw. “You went above and beyond, I can tell you that much.”

You snort, arms wrapping around his neck. “Am I gonna get that in writing?”

“I’ll think about it,” Leon murmurs, his fingers slipping under your chin to tip your head, lips pressing against yours. You hum into the kiss, fingers tangling in his soft hair, a quiet noise leaving you as he squeezes your ass.

When Leon pulls away, you chase after his lips, eyes fluttering shut when he returns your kiss just as eagerly, your thigh hooking over his hip, brows furrowing when you feel his cock against your thigh.

You look down, cheeks flushing when you find his spent cock beginning to harden, the fat length bobbing gently as it fills out.

“Already?” you murmur, sighing softly when he leaves stubbly kisses along your jaw.

“What can I say?” Leon whispers, his hips bucking when your hand wraps around his hardening cock. “You uh… bring out the best in me, I guess.”

You raise your brows, unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across your face. “Your best attribute is your cock? That’s a little disappointing.”

He grins, groaning when you kiss his pec. 

“You didn’t seem to think it was disappointing when I fucked you with it.”

“It is nice,” you acquiesce, head tipping back as he leans into you, trailing hot kisses down your neck, his hips beginning to rock lazily, meeting the strokes of your hand.

“I do have other nice, non-sexual attributes,” Leon says, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin gently. There’s a light flush settled on his cheeks and he clears his throat, sucking in a soft breath when you squeeze his cock. “Maybe you’d like to find out sometime?”

Your smile softens, affection beginning to creep in through the cracks of your ribs. Leaning forward, you kiss him gently.

“I’d like that, Leon.”

[maho6any]

Not Ateez but yall gotta understand how much of a slut I am for dilf!leon

[maho6any]

to the brim

mingi wants a baby, so lets give him what he wants

bf!mingi x f!reader

content: messy sex, breeding, spit, backshots, mating press

wc: 2k

thinking about mingi...

fucking mingi was all about making a mess, giving him something to clean up when he was done.

sex with him was nasty. vulgar. sloppy.

he had a way of making you feel guilty that you were allowing him to get his hands on you and do what he pleased. guilty that he knew what buttons to press and what knobs to twist in a way that made you feel so good it hurt.

it was wet, dirty, and hot. a shower afterward was a non-negotiable.

it was hard to make your moans sound pretty when they were so pure. guttural and broken, unfiltered with how deep mingi was pounding your puffy cunt. but he liked it more when you sounded like that, when you sounded like one more thrust might kill you.

when you sounded like you were in pain, but in truth, he was just fucking you so good that maintaining a front of “pretty” was not your main concern at the moment. your main concern was not passing out while he was inside you. fucking your pussy like he was trying to commit the feeling to memory.

"god, im so deep thats gotta hurt huh, baby? does it hurt you?”

you cries and groans are muffled in the pillow you’ve shoved your face into, your hands gripping the sheets by your head like they might ground you on earth. mingi is on his knees behind you, strong thighs keeping him upright, while his palms held your hips in place for him as he shoved his cock inside of you.

arched so prettily in front of him, your ass bouncing off his body every time his hips slammed against you, a filling, heavy rhythm that sends vulgar “plap” sounds bouncing off the walls.

you were covered in sweat, skin shiny and wet, your hair sticking to your neck from all the exertion. mingi was just as sweaty as you, surely more. but god he was having so much fun.

all the adrenaline that he channeled on stage when he performed, he funneled it into the bedroom too. acting nasty like he was performing for someone.

he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, his eyes lasered in on where his dick slid in and out of your gushy cunt, coated in a white cream that only seemed to build every time he filled you up again.

he laughs lowly as a string of saliva falls from the tip of his tongue and lands directly on the length of his cock in just enough time as he shoves it back inside of you, his fat mushroom tip catching that sensitive ridge along your walls that makes your legs shake.

“she’s creaming on my cock, baby,” he moans as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and drags his hands away from your hips and up to the rippling flesh of your ass. he palms the soft skin with his big, heated hands and spreads them slowly so he can get a better look at his cock filling you out.

it bewildered you every single time because mingi liked to embarrass you. he wanted you to hear the sounds that your body made, the filthy, sticky sounds that you couldn’t control.

“shhh, baby. not so loud, listen to yourself.” he reached over your arched body and pressed his hand flat against the back of your head to further muffle you against the pillow. “listen to her talk back to me.”

and hearing it always made you ashamed beyond comprehension. and yet he always felt you get so tight around him when the noises registered.

his spit, your arousal, the stirred-up sounds of your guts being rearranged hit your ears like a truck. mingi’s hungry groans that you could feel all throughout your body with every deep stroke he pounded into your cunt.

he’s big, and thick, and very purposeful with his hips. you’ve seen him on stage, rolling his body with sensual intentions that only allow a glimpse into how he could really put those hips to use.

he watches, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as your wetness clung to his v-line in a white sticky web. the shine of your ass from the sweat and all the times he’s practically drooled on your body.

he purposely slows his hips so the sounds get deeper, hollow and louder. your moans break into breathless whines that only make mingi wanna abandon any remaining composure and fuck you til you snap.

“yeah, yeah… cunt’s asking for a baby. isn’t she?” he takes his hand off your head and moves both of them to your shoulders, curling them over the bone and pulling your body up, arching you even more.

you whine when you feel him slip his soaked dick out of you, a gross, slick sound as he pulls out. and god, it seems endless when the tip finally pops out of you. you cry at the emptiness, and mingi giggles as he watches you shake your ass side to side to try and coax him to fill you up again.

your head throws back as he pulls your head out of the pillow, and you could hear him spitting into your stretched pussy, the saliva dripping down your puffy folds.

“gotta keep you messy, sweet girl, makes this more fun for both of us.” he digs his nails into your shoulders and groans so low you could feel it in your belly as he glides right back inside of you.

there was really no friction at all, and he's nearly kept slipping out since you started. each stroke of his veiny cock is punctuated with a deep, staccato rumble in his chest.

his lips part in misty pants, watching with enamored adoration as the stickiness of your combined arousal clings to your bodies like this was really some kind of perverted home video.

the wet noises fill your ears again, and now you can’t muffle your moans in the pillow anymore with the way he holds your body up. they come out primal and desperate, helpless as mingi forces your pussy to take his shape.

“mmhm, wish i could see your pretty face.” he mumbles, the loud slaps of his hips against your ass nearly drowning out his voice.

“but i'd rather see this pussy keep sucking me in.” he laughs again and enunciates with a deep, rough thrust that makes your toes curl.

“wanna see her dripping with me once i fill her up. fuck a baby into my pretty girl.” his moans are an encouragement that further tighten that knot in your stomach, your cunt clenching around him like a vice with every nasty word that leaves his mouth.

he presses his palms into your lower shoulders, simultaneously working out a building knot of stress, all the while he fucks you into a worthless puddle in his sheets.

“fill this pussy up all the way to the fucking back.” he leans over your body and presses his lips to the small of your back, his mouth opened in low moans as he eases his hips into a swifter pace, pressing wet kisses against your fluttering skin.

his dick glides in and out of you with painful ease, every full thrust that drags the thickness of him against your gspot pulling you more and more under.

“get you all pretty and swollen with my babies.” he whispers against your back, and you whine so loud you swear it was going to tear up your throat.

if the sloppy mess between your legs wasn’t a cry for just that, you weren’t sure what was.

“p-please-!” you cry out, and you shiver when you feel his lips form into a pout and kiss your back like he was trying to soothe you. “w-want… want you t-to-“

“think it’ll take like this?” he teases, shoving his cock so hard and so deep inside of you he might’ve breached your throat. he stays there, unmoving, forcing you to feel the twitching and the throbbing of his dick against every inch of your gooey pussy.

he hums, and suddenly you’re empty again, and you whine at the loss. but then you’re moving, his hands grab your waist and turn your body over, your back hitting the mattress. “probably not.”

seeing him nearly undoes you, a sweaty, crazed wreck. his hair sticking up everywhere, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his v-line a sticky mess. his hands grab the backs of your thighs and push your legs up so they’re pressed against your shoulders.

you squeal and are hardly given ample time to register what was happening before he slides his cock back inside of you, the new position having him deeper than ever before. mingi’s entire body shivers when he fills you to the hilt, your own body pulling taut at the invasive fullness.

his hands keep your thighs against your shoulders, folded in half underneath him in a mating press. “fuck, that’s better,” he sighs, immediately rolling his hips into you with every deep thrust. his lips spread into a greedy smile, his tongue swiping over his teeth. “hi baby, look so fuckin pretty.”

you cry out and throw your head back against the pillow, your hands reaching around and clawing at his broad shoulders.

“lemme pound this pussy, need you to cum before i breed you mkay? work for me pretty, give me what i need.” mingi chews on his bottom lip, his moans filling your ears, you’re unable to look away from where his cock disappears into your cunt, the wet noises seemingly even louder now.

he slides inside with slippery ease and glides right back out coated in a sheen of white. over and over and over again. maddeningly deep and too fucking fast.

his eyebrows are knitted in such a pretty, concentrated expression, his cheekbones poking through his skin from where his mouth begins to part with every thrust that seems to only drag him further towards his own orgasm.

“cum for me, baby. wanna feel this pussy cum around me, wanna fill you up so bad. wanna give my beautiful girl a baby.”

and as always, you do as he says, shattering like glass while he fucks you through it, determined to drag your orgasm out of you until you've been completely wrung dry.

"atta girl." he growls through his teeth, leaning down and taking your nipple in his warm mouth, suckling and circling his thick tongue around the softness of it. "can't wait till these are full of milk," he moans around them, muffled. "i'm sure the baby wouldn't mind sharing."

it clicks with you then and there that he was completely serious. the man literally wanted you pregnant. he sinks his teeth into your areola, and you cry out when you feel him slow his hips to a punishing, intentional grind into your cunt.

"you're gonna make such a good mommy, baby." he drools around your nipple, stilling his hips and damn near whimpering like a bitch as he holds himself there. you could feel him spilling inside of you, hot ropes of cum that seep to the back of your cunt just right.

mingi purrs and groans while he rides it out, massaging the backs of your thighs, his cock throbbing deep inside of you.

sticky, filled, and spent. he doesn't move yet, holding himself inside of you while you both take a moment to catch your breath. when you shift underneath him, he pressed his palms harder against the backs of your thighs to hold you still.

"uh uh, don't move. tryna keep you plugged, can't have any spilling out right?" he smiles and trails wet kisses up the side of your neck and you sigh and relax under his body.

you hope to god it works, because you're not sure if you'd be able to handle another session of "trying" with him and make it out with your legs intact.

[maho6any]

Hey, how are you ?

Something funny happened to me today and I wanted to tell you because I wasn't expecting this lmao. Basically I was scrolling on ig when I stumbled across an edit of hongjoong. The edit was so good that I wanted to see the other edits of the same account. But then I realized that the username was the same as yours and I was like '' wait a minute... ''. And it turned out that it was really you lmao 😭. How is it possible to be not only good at writing but also at editing ? Like damn your edits are HOT

(PS : I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable by saying this because I don't know if you're okay with me exposing you like this (if you're not feel free to ignore my message !))

You’ve connected the dots. 😞Yes it’s true. LMAOO. I love when you guys realize this. I’m more frequent on TikTok but yes indeed, I am also an editor. Just don’t go exposing me in my tiktok comments cause my following is TOO great on there.🫡But thank you so much you have no idea how much it means to me when people enjoy the stuff I make.

Love you all so so so much <33

[maho6any]

shameless

guys, its the nda special, the ultimate delusion

idol!yunho x f!reader

content: orgasm torture, power imbalance, dumbification, objectification

wc: 1.8k

thinking about yunho...

“nobody’s coming to save you, baby.”

you’re wailing at this point. shaking, sobbing. completely at his mercy, or rather lack thereof.

the nda was signed, your nerves were alight with excitement, with nervousness. with an overwhelming sense of pride over the fact that out of all the beautiful faces in the crowd, he chose you.

the journey to the hotel, the blurring letters of the non-disclosure you hardly even read. the look of pity the managers gave you when the elevator shut in their faces as they sent you upstairs to your inevitable destruction.

you, of course, did not know yunho. fans had their speculations about who he was behind closed doors and when the cameras shut off. the onstage persona he thrived in was a second skin he wore that had you swooning in the crowd. you had felt crazy every time his eyes swept over the crowd and always seemed to snag on you. you were sure it was just your typical case of fangirl delusion, but even when you weren’t looking at him, you felt him.

you knew you weren’t crazy. or maybe you did. when the concert was over, you were pulled aside by managers and men in suits. when you were led to a black van near the back of the venue, you sat in silence with strangers as they drove. you had to be dreaming; you felt clocked out of your brain during the entire exchange.

when they wished you luck and offered you a chance to leave. to forget this ever happened and to go home. you did not take it, and you wished you had.

yunho was cruel.

when you first stepped into his hotel room, expensive and cold, he was sitting on the plush chair in the corner, fiddling with the cross necklace that hung off his strong neck.

your breath caught in your throat when you saw him, beautiful and domineering. when he turned to look at you, you almost fled the room. but he stood and strode over to you carefully, like he could sense the fear that rushed through your blood.

and it excited him so much.

he reached out his hand and watched as you flinched away, your lips parted in surprise as his finger traced the slope of your nose, like you couldn’t believe he was real, that he was touching you. he smiled, and with a jerk of his hand, he gripped your jaw tightly, roughly, controlling. your eyes shook, and you swallowed as he squeezed your cheeks, biting his bottom lip and grinning when your pretty little lips puckered.

he’d make you believe, and he’d make you regret agreeing to come up here.

“keep squirming, and i'm gonna fuck you until your cunt goes numb.” it didn’t matter if you listened to him; he was going to do it anyway.

legs spread, pussy stuffed full, hands bound above your head with the very belt that he wore onstage that night. inflamed skin littered with bites, bruises, spit, and maybe a little blood.

his right hand held a small vibrating wand to your clit, while his left shoved its fingers down your throat. the smooth head of his cock dragged against your g-spot in a way that had you spiraling, rough, deep, rude thrusts into your abused cunt, the wand on your clit on the highest setting, the fingers in your mouth curling down against your tongue, the indents of your teeth clearly showing on the skin of his knuckles.

“so fuckin’ easy,” he groans, his throat bobbing when he lets his head fall back, mouth falling open in a deep growl. his hips moved at a punishing pace, determined to mold his shape into you with how hard he was fucking you.

tears stained with eyeliner and mascara ran down your cheeks, the makeup you put so much thought into smeared all over your face like it was all it was good for. your entire body would not stop shaking, your moans broken and staccato, each stroke of yunho’s insanely long cock making your ribcage shake under your skin.

“y-yun- ah! oh god, hurts,” you cried out, words slurring around his fingers. you hear him laugh above you, leaning down and glaring into your eyes.

“she speaks!” he teases, punishing you with a rough thrust up into you, and you choke. “hurts so good, doesn’t it, tiny?” he pouts and mocks you, chastely kissing the side of your throat as he abandons the wand at your side for a moment.

the loss of stimulation on your clit feels relieving, giving you a moment to breathe. he doesn’t stop fucking you, though, and he slows his hips and gives it to you slow and deep. yunho watches your eyes roll, feels your slick drip down his lower stomach, your cunt pulsing around him as if your body is begging for more. he doesn’t know if you’d be able to handle more without passing out, but he’s willing to take that risk.

“so cute…” he murmurs against your heated skin, dragging his fingers down your tongue and out of your mouth, wiping your drool all over your face and landing a burning slap across your cheek that sends your head whipping to the side.

you whine loudly when he takes his free hand and presses down against your lower stomach. your entire body jerks, your hands squirming in the belt around your wrists, throwing your head back into the pillow. the slow drag of his dick inside of you is almost too much without the vibrator. forced to feel the slow push and pull, his fat tip catching on that ridge inside of you. yunho could feel himself move under his palm through the flesh of your tummy, and he was addicted.

he looked crazed, and you couldn’t lock eyes with him for too long, or it would send your body into a burning heat.

“cum.” he commands, his low voice rough and growling, and your brain shuts off while your body obeys his command. like he flipped a switch, your cunt clenches, and you’re cumming.

you couldn’t believe it, how much control he had over you in that hotel room. it was borderline immoral, the way he seemed to get high off your compliance. it's like it wasn’t voluntary; your body just listened to him. your brain was useless, your body was all he needed, and he loved the way it responded to him.

he pokes his tongue against his inner cheek and laughs lowly, pressing against your stomach even harder as he pulls you through your orgasm, rolling his hips into you with monstrous precision.

“yeah, lemme fuck you through it, fuck you through it, fuck you through it…” it was like he was in a trance, and with every word that spilled from his mouth, his hips began to move faster.

your moans were going quiet, losing your voice from how much you had been moaning that night. you weren’t sure how many times you had cum by then, but you were sure it was at least 7.

he could see it, the light leaving your eyes, the clouds that formed over your irises, the more you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure. he always loved this part. he coaxed fans up to his hotel room, a dark promise of a secret well kept.

a promise for a night they will never forget, and maybe a night they will wish to forget. yunho would ruin them, play with them until they were useless. you were surprisingly resilient, and he was having a lot of fun with you.

“such a pretty, flexible little thing, hm? look at you, so fucking stupid.” you hear it before you feel it, the click of the wand as the buzzing fills the room.

you gain some sort of coherence in your eyes, and panic signals inside your brain as your hands jerk in their restraints, and attempt to reach down and stop him.

“w-wait-!” he doesn’t, and he presses the wand up against your clit once again. you groan loud and low, the combination of his thick cock slipping in and out of your oozing pussy, the merciless vibrations of the wand, his hand slides up and hooks at your throat, where he squeezes so hard you can’t move your head.

your breaths go quiet as he fucks you, as he hates you for existing. rough, claiming, and spiteful. vile spits and condescending praises in your face that make you feel like you were nothing more than a toy for him.

“slippery cunt keeps sucking me in, tiny. desperate slut can’t get enough, huh?”

“you keep cumming until you knock yourself out, i wanna see those pretty little eyes go empty.”

“need you to feel this in the morning, can't tell anyone about it, but you’re gonna fucking feel it for weeks.”

you could feel bruises forming on the backs of your thighs from where his hips slammed against you. the sharp crescents that sank into your neck where he held your throat down against the mattress. your clit was puffy and overstimulated to the point where every movement burned, but it burned so fucking good.

“can’t wait to find your face in the crowd at the next concert. ill be on stage thinking about how i reduced you to a set of holes for me to fuck. how pretty you look crying for me, how wet you get hearing me talking to you like my own personal fuckdoll.”

every word stole air from your lungs, every stroke sent the nerves in your pussy into overdrive, every brush of his lips made your eyes roll, every squeeze of his hand on your throat made your legs twitch around his hips.

“that’s it, baby, shh shhh.” he coos at you like it was your first time using your brain. he drags the vibrator up your clit in slow increments, and he drinks in the way your entire body twitches with every stroke.

“i'm gonna break you, sweetheart, mmhm. if you pass out, don’t worry. the guards will get you home safely.”

yunho rewards your limp body with a kiss to your temple, and he feels you clench around his cock harder than you do all night.

he opens his mouth and lets out a giggling moan against your skull, and he kisses your temple again.

“fuck, you got so tight, you like me being sweet to you?” yunho whispers against your skin, slowing his hips, giving you a glimpse of hope at the chance of pity for your broken body.

you can’t answer; only moan with a broken voice. he grins, then he drags his hips back with a shaky purr and shoves his cock deep into your cunt, pounding you stupid into the hotel mattress like you were an expendable rubber doll that could be replaced if she snapped in half.

“too bad~” he teases against your skin in a mocking sing-song tone, sinking his teeth into your lobe as he adjusts his hips to fuck you bottomless and forceful. "nobody's coming to save you, baby. you're at my mercy tonight."

a mercy he did not have. and if only you knew the way all the other members were in their respective hotel rooms, unable to get the pathetic sounds of your sobs out of their head, fighting the urge to fist their cock to the sound of yunho fucking up another fan.

you should never have let your curiosity get the best of you, because you weren’t sure if you’d make it out of that hotel alive.

not with the way yunho was fucking you like he had no goddamn off button.

[yeonlymine]

aloe vera ᢉ𐭩 mingi

saddle burn wasn’t the only thing raw

𐚁 mingi x f!reader

𐚁wc: 3.4k

𐚁warnings!: smut, a lil plot, spit play, bondage/rope, choking, power dynamics, size kink, cum play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking, spanking, biting, cowboy!mingi, im prob forgetting some

𐚁fun fact, i rodeo irl. im here to burst the bubble that cowboys are gentlemen. majority are assholes that have community d :) but we love cowboy mingi so it's acceptable in this circumstance!! this isnt rlly proofread, this was for funsies. (fyi the term "roughie" means someone who competes in rough stock events! in this case mingi is a bull rider)

𐚁𓄀✮⋆˙ 𐚁𓄀✮⋆˙

You knew better, you knew riding in shorts would rub you raw. 

Yet you did it anyway because it’s warm out, who would put on jeans when it’s 90 out? Horses gotta get warmed up too. 

Mingi told you while you were saddling up, you waved him off. Listening to roughies never got you anywhere but in the back seat of a truck.

You weren’t going to let a very tall, muscular, good-looking bullrider sway you…right?

You didn’t need the distraction, not before a run, so you continued to lope circles in the warm-up pen.

There’s no shade of trees, barely a breeze, the dust is all in your lungs, and it’s like you can feel the heat radiating from the bleachers. 

Your horse’s ride is smooth, and you match it, but the constant rubbing of your thighs from the rough out saddle is making it more agonizing.

Other contestants are scattered throughout the grounds, eating, talking; it’s the most relaxed time before it’s time to run at night.  

All but one bullrider, whom you’ve sworn not to touch with a ten-foot pole. Mingi has a tank on, shades covering his eyes, a trucker cap, and jeans. His long limbs just hanging on the fence, watching you. 

Each time you get to his side of the fence, you glance his way. He smirks that stupid smirk, you get goosebumps even though you’re sweating bullets.

Your horse’s body heat isn’t helping, so you decided to give both of you a break. It feels like scraping your knee on concrete as you slide off the other side of your saddle, you wince to yourself at the sensation.  

You waddle to the fence to tie your horse and loosen up the girth for her.

“I told you.” Mingi walks over, pats your horse’s head, his voice is filled with glee. 

“Shut up, I’m fine, just slight saddle burn.” You roll your eyes as you secure the rope knot, you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Slight?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Smart mouth.” He clicks his tongue, climbs over the fence, and goes to help remove the splint boots from your horse.

“I got it, Mingi.” He pays you no mind and continues to unwrap. You get up from crouching, and that’s when your thighs touch.

“Fuck—shit.” 

He goes around to your side, takes his shades off, he’s towering over you as he holds the left splint boot in his hand. 

“No, darlin’, you’re chafed really bad—not just ‘slight’.” 

You snatch the boot out his hand, “Stop looking between my legs.”

“It’s obvious from a mile away that you’re hurting, and one more ride in that saddle is gonna have you bleeding.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

“You’re standing like you had 15 beers.” Your jaw tightens, and you try to straighten up. He’s so close that the brim of his cap shadows your face. 

“No I’m not.” But even the small shift makes you inhale sharply, he catches it, his eyes are drilling into you. 

He smiles at you again, you shove at his chest. You hate proving anybody right, “Don’t you gotta buckle bunny hanging around somewhere?”

His tongue presses into his cheek, “See—I would,” he leans down a little closer, feeling his body heat against your own, “but they don’t ride in soccer shorts like you.”

Your stomach gets that empty feeling, and you hate that you’re falling for old patterns again. He reaches down before you can step back.

He hooks his finger under your shorts at your outer thigh; he doesn’t lift, just keeps his fingers there. 

“Mm.” He observes, and you swat his hand away. “Don’t.”

“C’mon, lemme see.”

“No.” 

He tilts his head, “So you’re just gonna be in pain through your run tonight, just to prove something?”

You don’t say anything, because that was the plan all along, you were just going to suffer the consequences of your actions for the day. 

Then he straightens up, “My truck–now.”

“Absolutely not.” You cross your arms, lean on the shoulder of your horse, you don’t dare cross your legs over. 

“Relaxxxx, it’s not like that—unless you want it like that.”

You glare, and his grin only gets wider, then he softens up a bit. “I got aloe.”

Now you know he’s getting serious, he’s actually offering you a practical solution, not just the thing between his legs.

He knows your run is important, he knows that’s the real threat for you. He turns and starts walking towards the field with the parked truck and trailers.

You don’t follow at first, but you wait about five seconds before you attempt a step across the gravel.

Pain immediately shoots up your thighs, you huff out, trying to keep it down because you swear he’s smiling even though he doesn’t turn around. 

He keeps walking as gravel shifts under your boots, it’s uneven footing, so every brush of skin makes you clench your jaw. 

His long legs make big strides, but you can tell he slowed down a bit, he definitely wasn’t trying to make it obvious. 

By the time you reach his truck, he’s already dropped the tailgate. No trailer hooked to it, as roughies only need to bring themselves and their gear, no animals to worry about until their performance. 

They have it easy outside of the 8 seconds of them risking their life. 

He leans against it, arms crossed, shades hanging on his tank. “Took you long enough.” You stop a few feet away.

“Whatever, you planning on actually helping or just enjoying the show?”

He looks you up and down slowly. You look all over the place, to be honest. A tank top on with dust sticking to your body,  sweat on your face, hair pulled back under a cap, with boots on. 

You never look your absolute best during the day of the show anyway. Except Mingi isn’t looking at your face or your chest, he’s looking at your legs.

“That depends,” he says lazily. “You gonna keep pretending you don’t need help?” He pushes off the tailgate, taps on it.

“Hop up.”

“I can stand.”

“I really didn’t ask.”   

You hesitate until he raises a brow, then you grab the edge and pull yourself up, the metal is hot through your shorts. His truck is not covered and has been sitting in the beaming sun. 

Your legs part just a little, limiting the friction against them. He goes around to the front of his truck and grabs a bottle that has green gel inside.  

The aloe, you could jump for joy. He steps between your knees as your legs hang and your back stiffens. 

“We’re in public– dude, you see how many trailers parked next to you?”

“Would you prefer this in the truck? Windows are tinted–plus nobody is looking at your legs but me.”

Your pulse jumps, it shouldn’t, because this is just a favor, but it seems your body doesn’t care what your brain thinks.

“Yeah, truck please.” You slide off the tailgate and go to the open passenger door. He follows and stands in front of you, his body plus the door covering you completely from any other eyes. 

It just looks like Mingi digging into his truck at this angle.  He flips the cap open with his thumb, squeezes some into his hand.  “Last chance to tell me to stop.”

You swallow, your pride is screaming, but your thighs are on fucking fire.

“...Just make it quick.” His mouth curves up.

“Oh—you know I don’t do anything quick.”

The first touch is cold, the aloe hits your skin, and you suck in a breath. It feels like pouring peroxide on an open wound. 

His hand is rough, calloused from the bull ropes and working with his hands all the time. He spreads it slowly along the inside of your thigh.

He doesn’t go high or inappropriately, just where the roughed-up skin is. He doesn’t rush, he rubs it in like he does baby powder before his rides. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs.

“Well, no shit.”

“You should’ve listened.” His thumb drags a little slower, and you can feel the shift in breathing. He looks up at you from under his hat.

“Still just ‘slight?’” His thumb presses a little harder as he works the aloe in some more, the stinging sensation still subtle. 

Your knees go loose, opening up a little more, and his eyes don’t leave yours. “You can tell me to stop.”

You swallow, you’re sweating even more now, and your hand finds the front of his tank. You don’t push him, you bunch it up in your hands, holding him there. 

“Mingi,” you warn, but it comes out more breathy, not serious in the slightest. 

“Didn’t think so.” He says, stepping where his hips brush the edge of the passenger seat, your thighs hitting his. 

You know the aloe is just becoming an excuse at this point, you both have played these games before. 

“You’re such an ass.” Your grip tightens, pulling him closer.

His voice drops lower. “Then tell me to fuck off.” His hand rubs your inner thigh again, getting close to where you’ve been secretly aching and wet.

He leans in, his other hand bracing against the middle console behind you. You don’t say anything, don’t tell him no.

He hooks one finger under the edge of your shorts, tugs on them. “These are in the way.”

“Then do something about it.” Your pulse has quickened, know you shouldn’t be getting involved with him. 

His eyes flash, he grabs the shorts at the inseam, and they rip. Your shorts hang open, exposing your panties, already damp.   

“Shit, Mingi.”

“You told me to do something.” He yanks them away, hangs them on the rearview mirror. You’re left in your underwear, tank top, boots, and spurs.

His hand cups you through your underwear and you bite back a moan. “You’re so damn wet, bet there’s evidence of a snail trail in your saddle, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky, honey.”

He pulls your panties to the side, fingers sliding through your folds, and you choke. “Mhm. Keep talking for me.”

You can’t form words. His fingers work you open, you’re still covered from the other trucks and people in the parking lot, as two fingers push inside and his thumb finds your clit.

Your head falls back against the console, and he leans by your ear, tongue swipes it and you shudder.

“All that mouth and you can’t say shit now.”

“Maybe if you were better at this–”

He pulls his fingers out, and you whimper slightly. He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and his fingers wet with you press against your lips. 

“Open for me.” You glare as you do. He slides his fingers into your mouth, and you taste yourself with the tart lingering taste of aloe. His eyes are dark as he watches. 

You hollow your cheeks as you suck, and his breath hitches. He then pulls his fingers out, a string of spit connecting as he puts his fingers in his mouth. Moaning around his own fingers, holding direct eye contact with you. 

He then leans over into the bed of his truck and comes back in front of you, holding his bull rope. The one he uses for his rides, worn leather and frayed orange cord. Your eyes go wide.

“Turn around.”

“I’m not a fucking bull, you’re gonna have to make me.”

His hand grabs the hair peeking out of your cap and spins you, bending you over the console. Your boots scrape against the truck frame, spurs jingling. 

“You keep acting like a bull, get treated like one, baby.” He loops the rope around your wrists, pulling them behind your back and tying them tight. 

He tears your underwear next, throwing them in the backseat to be added to his collection. You can hear his buckle and zipper, and then you feel the head of his cock pressing against you. 

You think about onlookers and slowly stop giving a fuck, you’re covered. If they want to see Mingi's cheeks, they’ll get a show. 

He’s fucking big, you feel every vein, every muscle as he pushes in slowly.  “Jesus–shit, shit.”

“Too much? Thought you could handle it like you do your horses.” His voice is strained while still mocking you.

“Fuck everything about you.” You grit out, but get broken by a moan as he bottoms out in you. You’re so full, the air is getting scarce. 

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, he just pulls back and slams in. His balls slapping against you as you cry out. It hits the chafed skin from the saddle, and it hurts, but feels so damn good you can’t think straight. 

“Take it.”

He fucks you hard as your cheek rubs against the console, slobber smearing along the leather. The truck rocks with every thrust. 

Sweat drips, the rope burns your wrists, and you pull against it, which makes him go harder. He leans over you, one hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you up slightly so your back arches.

Your spurs catch on him and he hisses. “Careful with those,” he goes deeper, hitting your cervix, which makes you go delirious. 

“Oh my god.”

“Uh uh, wrong name.”

You can’t form coherent thoughts, so you push back against him, meeting his thrusts, and he groans.

He pulls out, and you whine. He unties the rope and flips you over, pulling you back to the edge of the seat. Your legs wrap around his waist, spurs digging into his ass, and he grins.

He pushes back in and you both moan. The angle is deeper, you can see him now. His hat is half on, tank top clinging to his body with sweat, happy trail visible,  jaw clenched. 

He looks damn good. 

He spits into his hand and brings it between you, rubbing your clit in tight circles while he pounds into you. It’s so much, you’re coming before you can stop it, your whole body squeezes around him tight. 

“Fuck,” he thrusts three more times, and then he’s spilling inside you with a groan. He collapses forward, head hanging on your shoulder, both of you gasping.

He pulls out slowly, and you feel his cum drip down your thighs, they burn even more now. The aloe has gone to waste. 

He swipes his fingers through it and brings it to your mouth again. “Clean this all up, you’ve already fucked up my seats.”

You maintain eye contact as you do, and his cock twitches against your thigh. “You’re such a dick.”

He grins lazily, satisfied. “You’re the one who was on this dick in a parking lot with your spurs still on.” 

You can’t even argue with that, but then your breathing steadies, and when you look at him, there’s a look in your eyes that makes him falter.

“Looks like it’s my turn, huh.”

He blinks, “What–”

“Get in the truck.” He stares at you a moment, cock still hard, then he laughs. “You serious?”

“Does it look like I’m fucking joking?” You move over to sit on top of the console to give him room, it takes all your strength to move because of how shaky you are. 

The seat is soaked in spit, cum, everything that’s dripped out of you. It’s absolutely filthy. “But that’s your seat.”

“And now it’s yours, sit.” His cocky smirk returns, and he gets all the way in. The truck dips, and he takes up the entire passenger seat, even in his big ass truck.

His thighs spread wide, and when he settles into the seat, you hear the wet sound of him sitting in your juices and the leather.  

“Jesus christ I’m gonna need a detail.”

“You should be honored.” You climb over him and squeeze in where you can, the heat seeping through with no ac.

His hands go to your hips, the fit is tight. His shoulders are so broad you have to brace your hands on the roof of the truck to balance, your knees press against the seat on either side of him.

No one can hear or see into his truck, tinted so dark you don’t know how he drives it on the regular.

You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his cock. He begins to harden even more, and you stroke him slowly. 

You sink down on him in one stroke, and his words cut off into a choked groan. The stretch is delicious. You never took off your boots, dirt in his seat, spurs digging into the side of his thighs as you settle.

“What’s wrong Mingi?” You roll your hips and watch his eyes roll back. “Thought you’d be able to last 8 seconds?

“Fuck–”

You brace your hands on his shoulders, you set a fast pace. Your thighs burn, but you lift yourself almost completely off him before slamming back down. Cum drips down your thighs, down his cock, adding more to the mess he’s sitting in. 

His hands go to your hips, trying to slow you down, but you slap them away. “Didn’t say you could touch.” You lean forward and wrap your hand around his throat.

His cock twitches inside you, and you laugh breathlessly. “Oh? You like?” You squeeze your thighs tighter, changing the angle.

“I’m gonna die before my ride. Shit–”

“You’ll make it, just maybe not last the full time–” You sit up as much as you can, your head nearly brushes the roof. Your hips roll and snap, your spurs jingle with every movement, scraping his skin that’ll leave marks. 

Sweat drips between your breasts, and you can feel his chest slick under your hands. The windows start to fog, but you don’t slow down. 

“Look at you—big tough roughie who can’t take what he dishes out. Pathetic.”

“I like it when your mouth is occupied.” He sticks his fingers into your mouth and shoves them down your throat, your hips stutter a bit. 

“Good girl, all nice and quiet.” His other hand comes up to grab your tits, squeezing hard, he pinches, causing you to moan and clench around him. It only makes you go harder. 

You spit his fingers back out, some of it hits his face, he uses his tongue to lick it off around his lips. The scene alone makes you want to buckle at the knees. 

“You’re fucking insane.”

His hand slides down to your ass, and he spanks you, the sting matching the sensation of your inner thighs. Then he does it again. 

“Fuck—yess–” He spanks you harder, and you grind down harder, taking him deep. Your clit rubs against his unshaven stubble with every movement. You’re getting close again.

“Shit, I’m bout’ to nut.” His voice is wrecked, and you can feel him throbbing inside you. 

You tap his cheek playfully, “Not yet.”

“Please–”

“Please what?” You roll your hips, start spelling your nickname with your hips, and he chokes. “Use your words, honey.”

“Please let me come—fucking please.” You lean down, lips brushing his ear. “Fill me up again, wanna feel it.”

He comes with a groan, hands on your hips, and the feeling of him pulsing inside you. You come shortly after, thighs clamping around him. 

Even as you come, you keep moving, slower. “Wait–I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, take it.” You sit up, wringing every last bit out of him. His head falls back against the seat, throat exposed, and you lean down to bite it.

Your muscles are screaming, you chase another orgasm as you grind down on him. His hands roam your thighs, ass, tits as you come down. 

He’s about to say something smart until the sound of a mic squeals. You both freeze. A voice echoes from the arena, running sound check for the speakers before the night.

The loading of bulls and horses into the chutes, it makes you realize how the world didn’t really stop, and you’re still parked between trailers.

Still supposed to compete. 

Your thighs burn when you shift off him, the aloe is smeared everywhere. He runs a hand over his face, hat crooked, jaw tight. 

You adjust your tank top like nothing happened, grab what’s left over of your shorts off the rearview. 

“Better ride better than how you handled this.”

He laughs, you lean down as your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Wouldn’t want you lasting less than eight seconds under those lights.”

You pull back before he can respond, open the door, and slide on your ripped shorts. Heat floods in, and real life hits you.

He watches your boots hit the gravel, your thighs are still red, still raw, and it’s all his fault.

“That aloe was absolute shit.”

[maho6any]

Took me straight home to Tennessee with this, and oh my lord I should kiss you.

[maho6any]

wrap around !

giving subby bf mingi a wraparound handjob, clean up aisle my pants. like hello are we seeing his thighs??

bf!mingi x f!reader

content: sub!mingi, handjob, teasing, begging

wc: 1.9k

thinking about mingi...

your boyfriend was so big. tall, dark, and handsome as they like to say. you loved when he had you underneath his body, playing with you, working you out until you went brainless with his dick deep in your guts and his hands on your throat like a cockdrunk toy.

but every once in a while, you liked to play with him too. and god as much as he’d whine about it, you both knew he loved it.

“b-baby, not so rough… please.” mingi sat between your legs, his thick thighs spread wide, his head craned down on his neck, staring at your hand between his legs. his hands fisted the sheets on the bed, pretty, low, whiny moans slipping past his shiny, swollen lips with every touch you subjected him to.

you leaned your chin on his shoulder, looking over his broad body to see the pretty sight below, your hand, small in comparison, wrapped around the thick length of mingi’s cock. his thighs twitched when you dragged your hand up the girth of him, your fingers shiny with sticky pearls of precum that leaked from his pretty pink tip.

your movements sounded slick, and every time you stroked him, base to tip, his chest, beaded with sweat, rose and fell with deep labored breaths. you bit your lip as you watched yourself play with him, warm and thick in your palm. his dick twitched and jumped every time you squeezed the base of him.

his moans hit your ears like the prettiest melody, every glide of your soft hand around him sending his stomach into a pleasure-dripped flurry.

“you want it slow, baby?” you whisper in his ear, kissing the vein that protrudes from the side of his throat. “i can go slow for you.”

gently, you stroke upwards along him, squeezing the tip of his dick and running the plane of your thumb along his leaking slit. his moans choke in his throat, and you feel his dick jump in your hands at the increased stimulation.

torturously slow, you drag your thumb over his slit, teasing him with squeezed intervals around his shaft. your other hand wraps around his body and rubs along his lower stomach, caressing his abs in featherlight strokes, feeling his stomach rise and fall under your palm.

“fuck.. oh god, baby please… d-don’t be m-mean-” he interrupts himself with a low groan when you drag your hand back down the length of his pretty dick, moving to gently squeeze his balls.

his cock is shiny and pink, so much pre-leaking from him that it starts to stick to his thighs. his moans rise in pitch when the hand on his stomach pressed down on his hard abdomen, adding a pleasurable pressure. his moans break off into a pathetic whine, the hand at his side comes up and wraps over his eyes, leaning his head back and moaning loudly into the space. looking at you jerking him off was almost too much, and he didn’t want to cum too quickly.

“my pretty boy…” you moan in his ear, and his cock twitches so hard in your grasp it almost startles you. he pants towards the ceiling, his head hanging back over your shoulder, the slick, sticky sounds of you stroking his cock only growing louder as your rhythm starts to become more pressured, more swift.

“don’t you wanna see what i'm doing to you?” you nibble on the shell of mingi’s ear, and he bites back a throaty whine.

“c-can’t… hah- can’t handle i-it.” he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, bucking his hips up into your hand to chase the friction of your touch. but you click your tongue and loosen your grip.

mingi’s eyes widen, and he pants loudly, raising his head and dropping his gaze back down to his lap, where he can see and feel your hand slipping away from his cock.

“n-no, mami, wait-” he whines disappointedly, moving his hand to try and grab your hand back, but you quickly drag your hand out of his reach and wrap it over his mouth, his warm moans hitting your palm. his eyebrows knot prettily in disdain, his hips fucking up into the air as if he might find relief in the nonexistent friction.

“you wanna cum?” you whisper in his ear, dragging your tongue up the side of his neck. he nods frantically, muffled begs and “please’s” hitting your palm. you smile and move your hand so you can hear him use that pretty voice to beg.

“-please! i’ll b-be good, baby, so good for you. your g-good boy… please t-touch me, need you to make me cum-”

you cover his mouth again, and finally, you take your other hand and wrap it around his heavy cock again, squeezing and dragging your fingers up and down over the thick vein that runs up the side of him. his moans hit your hand again, and you feel a little drool slip from his mouth and seep between your fingers.

“then be still, you take what i give you, okay? let me play with my pretty boy for a little…”

you take your hand off his cock, and gently ghost the sharp nail of your finger up the side of him. he twitches uncontrollably, and you can feel his groans shiver under your hand. you could feel the vibrations of his voice travel from his back against your chest, low and heated.

mingi is entranced by your cum soaked hand as it wraps around him again, slow, tight strokes up the length of his cock. he fights the primal urge to thrust his hips further into your hand, to fuck your palm in desperation. but the poor boy wants to be good for you; he wants to earn the right to cum all over himself at your hands.

all the while you litter his strained neck in wet kisses, your own pussy soaked as you feel his voice against your palm, feel his cock jump in your hand, the wet sound of the rhythmic strokes enough to make mingi feel a little embarrassed at how much pre you’ve managed to work out of his body.

his legs start to shake a little, the strong muscles of his thighs twitching under the skin. his pants grow frantic, and his chest rises and falls a little faster, his head falling back against your shoulder. you look over, and you could see his eyes starting to roll into the back of his head, his thick eyebrows knitted together in pure bliss.

“aw, is my baby about to cum for me?” you coo in his ear, and finally, you move your hand away from his mouth to let him speak.

no longer muffled, his moans come deep and unfiltered. desperate whimpers that catch in his throat when you take your free hand and teasingly massage his swollen, pink tip. your other hand continues to stroke him to high heaven, his leg starting to bounce as the pleasure spreads about his body, head to toe.

“f-fuck- baby… fuck-king me so good… hah- mmf-!” mingi drops his head again, and his whine shakes low in his chest when he sees both your hands jerking his dick so beautifully. you coo wet praises in his ear, and you watch as a drop of drool falls from his plushy, bitten lips and onto his stomach.

“g-gonna c-cum, for you…” he whimpers, and he can’t help himself as his hips buck upwards, his dick so wet he just slides right through your hands with disgusting ease.

you click your tongue and sink your teeth into his shoulder, dragging a pained whine from his chest. “oh, baby. didn’t i tell you not to move? you were doing so good for me…”

mingi panics, stopping his hips with quite the struggle, crying out pathetically while he forces himself to let you do the work. “‘m sorry! please d-don’t stop, i’m being a good boy mami, i am. it's just so good, you’re s-so good to me baby…”

he sounds so wet, and wrecked, and pathetic. every twitch of his heavy cock signals as he gets closer to cumming, and really, you just want to hear him fall apart.

“if you wanna cum then ask me nicely. look at me.” mingi turns his head to look at you next to him, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. those pretty little puppy eyes, watery, sad, and desperate. his wet, puffy lips tremble, parted in low, sweet moans. his skin is flushed, and his brows rise and fall with his chest. he looked so pretty.

immediately, he presses his lips to yours and moans loudly into your mouth, his tongue filling your mouth as he begs and murmurs against your lips. “p-please.. make me cum, please-please-please, i’m begging you, baby. use me, use me. please, wanna cum for you-”

he kisses you so messily, his pleas muffled around your tongue, drool stringing between your lips in a filthy exchange.

“okay baby.” you whisper against his lips, focusing all the movements of your fingers around his sensitive, swollen tip, playing with it like a joystick. he pulls away from your mouth with a wet smack, dropping his head and moaning broken and whiny as he watches you work his cock without mercy.

“cum for me, make a mess all over yourself.”

mingi bucks his hips, his stomach rolling as a long string of high pitched groans fall from his lips. his cock, warm and swollen, twitches in your hand, before he spills all over himself. thick ropes of hot cum spurt all over his stomach, landing on his chest in pretty milky strings.

you stroke him slowly, milking him for every drop he’s worth, his pretty grumbles and whines spurring you on further as he cums all over himself.

“shit… baby. fffuck me… thank you, t-thank you…” mingi’s heavy breaths make your stomach clench, the visible heaves of his big, strong, sweaty chest, the wet trail of drool that drips down the corner of his mouth. the dazed, fucked out look in his eyes makes you want to ride his pretty face until your legs give out.

you kiss his cheek and finish him off with a teasing squeeze to his tip that has his eyes scrunching in painful overstimulation. “such a well behaved boy.” you praise, and you could feel him shiver against you.

mingi’s softening cock sits on his thigh, still so big even when he isn’t rock hard.

“mm, wanna make you c-cum, mami.” he whispers to you, shakily moving from between your legs and gently urging you onto your back on the bed. “wanna eat your pussy, please? can i?”

he asks you so nicely, dragging his big sweaty hands up the outer flesh of your thighs, kissing up your legs like you were his goddess.

you reach down and card your fingers through his soft, messy hair, and he all but purrs against your thigh when you massage his scalp. “of course, honey. i miss your mouth.”

he grins, overjoyed as he offers no restraint, spreading your thighs pretty and wide and suctioning his mouth to your soaked clit with a hungry moan that travels up your spine. your back arches and you watch as he still manages to grind his poor overstimulated cock against the edge of the mattress.

he could never seem to get enough, always so greedy.

[maho6any]

rock the boat

he posted this pic on his story and i dropped my pants in preparation

bsf!seonghwa x f!reader

content: teaching you how to ride, slow and wet, eye contact, choking

wc: 2.3k

thinking about seonghwa...

“never?” he murmurs, nibbling on his inner cheek as he gives you a once-over. not in disbelief, but something else. something dangerous.

you shake your head. “nope.” you shrug and pick up your phone again and start to scroll through your settings apps. “but it’s not a big deal, really, it’s just another thing to cross off the bucket list.”

seonghwa snorts and peeks over to snoop at your phone, to which you angle it away from him with an annoyed scowl. “i think it may be a little more serious than that.”

you type gibberish into the search bar. "why does it have to be serious, hwa? it's just sex."

its seonghwa's turn to scoff this time, and he pinches the skin of your calf, you swat at him with your free hand. but he does it again, and you bite out an irritated "quit it" as he starts to speak again.

"thats a bad mindset to have, y'know that right?" he lowers his voice to that annoying, mothering tone he uses with you when he thinks you're being stupid. "it should never be "just sex."

"okay yeah, but you can't be so picky and choosy all the time. i'm sure ill get with some guy and when he figures it out, he'll work with me or whatever. teach me or something." you speak of it fleetingly, like it was nothing more than a pesky errand.

seonghwa snatches your phone from you and shoves it into the couch cushions, and you sigh loudly.

"some guy?" he questions with a raise of his eyebrow. you move to fish your phone out of the couch, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist, encasing it in his slender fingers and rubbing his thumb over your thrumming pulse point.

"why not me?" he speaks lowly, and you snap your eyes up to his. he stares back at you with an intensity that settles low in your gut. his thumb stroked over your inner wrist slowly, and his other hand twitched at his side on the couch.

the air went thick, the quiet of his living room felt encased in a bubble, and the warmth of his skin suddenly burned.

he sees it. your thighs clenching beneath your body, the conflict flashing over your eyes, your free hand digging its nails into the cushion.

when you don't respond, he lets his eyes fall to where his hand held your wrist, watching with illustrated intent as he traces patterns against the fragile skin.

"i could show you, i've always been told i'm a good teacher." seonghwa tickles the skin of your palm with gentle scratches of his nails.

"thats what friends are for, yeah?" he lifts his pretty eyes back up to you, and something else has shadowed over them, and you feel something inside of you crack. you're aware of the way veins in his hands flow prettily under his skin.

the way his collarbones peak through the thin fabric of his shirt. the slick shine on his bottom lip where he licked to wet it. his tongue poked against his inner cheek and his eyebrows raised again to urge an answer out of you.

"c'mon pretty, don't leave me hanging." his voice is softer than usual, a new tone lacing it you've never heard from your best friend, something heated, something needy.

if deciding to have your best friend teach you how to ride dick was a bad idea, then you could mull on it later. because it wasn't long until he was sitting under you on the couch, legs spread nice and wide, his hands pressing into your hips where he held your body above him.

you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his, your knees pressed into the rough fabric of the couch cushions. your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into the flesh of the blades.

he looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a gift from god himself, his eyebrows knit together so prettily. "its fun up there, huh?" he smiles, dragging his warm hands up your thighs, holding you like you might melt and slip through his fingers.

you could barely keep yourself together; he was so deep inside of you. your thighs shook around him, his tip nudging against that spot so sweet and so dirty. his fingers kneaded the flesh of your hips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth with a quiet moan when he felt your cunt clench around him.

"it helps that you're, ah… so wet…" his voice cracks lightly, his cock twitching inside of you and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

you shiver and grip his shoulders a little harder, and you begin to lift your hips, but his grip on them tightens, and he pushes you right back down until your ass hits his thighs again, and you groan nice and low as he fills you all the way up again.

"no-no-no-no-no, baby, stop. don't lift." he presses his lips to your collarbone and kisses you there softly, running his tongue over the skin warmly. one hand leaves your hip and runs over your waist before he presses his palm flat against your lower back and pushes until you arch a little.

just enough that he somehow slips deeper into you, and you let out a weak whine when his fat tip presses ever harder against that spot.

"grind." he instructs in a gravelly, soft moan. "rock your hips, back and forth. it'll help me hit that spot for you."

you shake and whimper under your breath, but you obey. you gently move your hips forward, and the feeling is immediate, his cock drags against your soft walls just enough that it feels like pure heaven.

you move your hands and card them through the hair at the back of his head, cradling his skull in your arms as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, moaning softly against his skin as you rock your hips, nice and slow.

it helps that he's so big, each roll of your lower body has him slipping in and out of you just enough to stimulate you, but not enough to where you can consider him fucking you. his tip dragging against that spot like a constant button, your legs shaking uncontrollaby and your whine brushing past his ear like a song.

your clit lightly brushes against his abs, where his shirt has ridden up over his lower stomach. he keeps his hand on your lower back, keeping you arched all the while his other hand stays glued to your hips, pushing and pulling on your lower body, helping you grind his cock into your body.

"there, how's that feel, baby? good?" he whispers in your ear, kissing just below your earlobe as he helps you rock your body around his cock.

you nod against his neck, gripping his soft, dark hair harder and choking out a moan when he teases you with a heavy lift of his hips. then you feel as he encases your hips with both his hands again, and gently he lifts your body ever so slightly.

you squeeze his head even harder, seonghwa's soft moans shaking in his throat as he lifts and pushes your cunt back down on his cock in slow, deep intervals. "don't stop rocking those hips, keep fucking me like you want. grind, deep, slow…"

he guides you perfectly, each time he lifts your hips himself it makes you clench around him harder. you start to feel a little desperate, and your hips start to move a little faster, rocking with a little more rhythm, but seonghwa didn't like that.

one hand finds the back of your neck and grabs it firmly, pulling your head away from his shoulder and pressing your forehead to his. suddenly all you can see is his eyes, and it overwhelms you to the point of tears. you whine pathetically when he thrusts his cock up into your pussy so sharply that a drop of drool falls from your lips onto his chest.

"easy…" he grumbles against your lips, his breath fanning over your face in low, heavy pants. "slow down pretty, no need to rush." his nails dig into the back of your neck, and you shiver when he starts to grind his own hips up into you, so deep it has your stomach caving.

"if i wanted you pounded into the floor i would've put you on your back, but i'm teaching you sweetness. listen to me." his eyes fall low-lidded as you resume your slow grinding, and his mouth falls open in a pretty moan when you tighten around him, the sound of your slickness loud in your ears.

"it's your dick right now, baby, use it. do what feels good, but don't lose your head." he keeps up the torturous movement of his hips, a choreographed grind that makes his stomach roll prettily.

he doesn't let you look away, forcing you to lock in on his needy gaze while he keeps you filled up with him, nudging every deep spot, every nook and cranny of your pussy. there wasn't a single space inside of you that remained untouched.

"s, t-too, mm-" you tried to talk, try to tell him how good you were feeling but it came out in slurred babbles, and he laughed at you. his warm breath shudders over your parted lip,s and he nudges his head up, melding his soft lips with yours and kissing you deep and nasty.

his tongue fills your mouth with a purr, curling and essentially fucking your mouth with it. "it's a lot i know…" he whispers into your mouth, interrupting the kiss with a low moan when you clench so hard around him it makes his entire body fuzzy.

he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, letting go with a wet pop and pressing your hips down so hard onto his cock you thought if you looked down you'd see his tip poking through the flesh of your stomach.

"wouldn't have felt like this with anyone else, baby." seonghwa nips at the corner of your mouth, dropping his head to run his warm tongue flat up the front of your throat. "feel how wet you are? no other man will be able to make you feel this good."

his eyes lift as he sucks marks of possession into the skin of your neck, and when he sees a tear slipping down your cheek, he growls low in his throat and jerks his cock up into you rough and deep, and you yelp as the bliss shoots through you.

"oh no, don't cry. it makes me wanna be mean to you, makes me wanna fuck you til it feels wrong when i'm not inside you."

now he wraps his hands around your throat, pressing his thumbs against those soft spots that melt your brain, his eyes darting all over your pretty little blissed out face, his lips brushing against your in a ghost of a kiss.

"now lift, drop, and roll. fuck me, bunny. its yours, use this cock until you're satisfied. make yourself cum for me."

you coudln't disobey if you tried, working your body and focusing on that rapidly tightening knot in your stomach as you fuck yourself on seonghwa's dick, every delicious drag inside of you forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

he doesn't bother to chastise you for breaking eye contact; he knows you're too lost in it to control yourself. he squeezes your throat tighter, your moans coming choked and broken. seonghwa helps push you over that edge, groaning and purring prettily for you, lifting his hips to match your desperate movements.

"i feel you baby, pussy feels so good around me. so warm, so tight." he lifts his head to press his lips to the shell of your hot ears, moaning and sighing as you ride him to high heaven. your head feels fuzzy with the lack of air, seonghwa making sure that the only thing you could think about was his dick working you out.

“cum as much as you need,” he coos in your ear his voice low and breathless, sinking his teeth into the soft lobe. “ride me, bunny, ride me.”

you absolutely lose it, slamming your hips down onto his dick and shattering, dribbling drool in rivers as you cum. he squeezed your throat in pulsing intervals, giving you air, then snatching it from you, rolling his hips up into your cunt and dragging every drop of your orgasm out of your body.

"oh god…fuck." he grumbles in his throat, overwhelmed by how pretty you looked on top of him, blissed out over your warm, gummy pussy squeezing him so tight he almost came inside of you. "such a quick learner, baby."

he drags his hands away from your throat, cradling your head, smearing your drool all over your cheeks with his thumbs, your face hazy and drunk while he rocks his hips into you in painfully slow, high off the way you shake and whimper, your slick sticking to his thighs and his lower stomach, a messy proof of his effect on you.

"did so good beautiful, yes you did." he praises, and yet his hips never stop moving. rolling, grinding, upwards strokes that make you feel helpless, regardless of the fact that he was beneath you.

"think you can give me another one? lesson's not over yet." he bites out, grabbing your arms and dragging your body down so your forehead rests over his shoulder. then he grips your hips, lifts your body up, and shimmies his hips down just enough so he can plant his feet flat on the floor, before he starts to fuck.

hard, deep, powerful thrusts up into your overstimulated cunt that has your moans coming out in staccato chokes.

"you did your w-work, now let me use this pussy." he groans through gritted teeth, and you feel your body erupt into flames the more he moves. making you feel every inch of him, each thrust touching your brain. making you feel so good.

is that not what friends are for?

[yestodayys]

✮⋆｡°✩ look at me - song mingi x fem!reader

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 smut mdni, pwp, sleazy perv dom mingi/perv sub reader yestodayys brand, dirty talk, squirting, spitting, facial, cumplay

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 wc 2.5k

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 a/n this is for @maho6any but i’m crazy and not normal because how dare he dress like this. not ok. not acceptable and i wasn't ok with it so i did this. anyway i hope u enjoy it rayne <3

“you look so good,” you breathe. you thought mingi’s grin couldn’t get any bigger, but his head rolls on the back of the couch, his tongue licking over his teeth like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. you fixate on his face, his white teeth and soft, pillowed lips. he’s so predatory when you look at those dark, slender eyes - they’re looking right back at you through the lenses of some fake glasses that he doesn’t need but knows makes him look good. waiting, you think, because he wants more. you shiver. “fuck, mingi, you- you know you look hot.”

“damn straight,” he chuckles, revelling in it, and his hands move to your hips, fingers and rings forming bruises on your flesh. you’re settled on top of him, your own palms situated on too-broad shoulders to keep yourself steady - he knows you need more than that, so his grip is firm where it lands. “grind a little on your pretty boy, baby, rub that cunt on me.”

you gasp at his words, filthy and blunt like they always are, but your hips start moving without complaint. mingi lets out a deep sigh, plump lips parting, and when his head falls back forward to watch you move, the glasses he’s wearing slip down his tall nose. two of your fingers come to push them back up, and on their way back down to his henley shirt - pulled tight across a muscled chest - he catches them in his mouth, nipping at your fingertips gently. 

“oh- oh,” you whimper, hips stuttering, and he glances up at you through thick lashes and fake glasses, mischief in his eyes, too happy that you’re this fucked up over the sight of him. “y-you’re so pretty, min, fuck!”

your other hand goes to the back of his hair, freshly dyed a dark blue and soft between your fingers when you grab hard; it’s his turn to make a noise, something gravelly and deep that rings from your digits straight through your body, down to your pussy.

the skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing much - mingi’s hands have already been bunched in the fabric and he only pushes it further up now, at your waist like a belt, and your lace panties are the only thing separating your core from his jeans. your hand finally drops from his face, falling at his chest, over that damn henley - he’s hard to the touch, muscled, strong.

“so- you’re so big, so-”

“‘s gettin’ that pussy wet, right?” he’s still fucking smiling, letting those sculpted thighs fall further apart to push up against you. you feel it - his cock, so fat and hard through his jeans because he’s getting off on this, the fact you can’t fucking help yourself around him. “that’s right. keep looking at me, make yourself feel good.”

as if you could look away. he’s so handsome, cheeks starting to flush from you moving on top of him; your eyes dart around to glasses, blue hair, broad shoulders, cheeky smile, pretty eyes - fuck, you can’t focus. your hips start to grind faster, seeking more, heavy little breaths spilling from your mouth in desperation until your patience snaps. 

“p-please, need more, i- i want you to-” you whine on one thrust, when the seam of his jeans brushes against your clit just right, and mingi seems to take pity on you. he coos, smooths down your hair with his hand and pushes you onto your back on the couch. 

like this, looming over you, it’s even worse. those stupid fake glasses slip down his nose again and he uses your cheek to nudge them back up when he kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth. 

his hand comes to the back of your head to keep you steady, cold rings kissing your scalp, and he licks over your own teeth and into your mouth like he’s claiming you. he pulls back, squishes your cheeks between his thumb and finger to keep your mouth open and spits right onto your tongue. the volume of the moan you let out makes his chest vibrate with a laugh.

he moves his attention down to your legs, leaning on his knees like an unleashed beast now that he knows what’s waiting for him, pushing one up to fall over the side of the sofa and the other over the back cushions. he’s spreading you eagle so that he can see the mess he’s made, you realise, still relishing in how fucking much you like him - you love him so bad you’d remind him every hour if it’s what he wanted. 

“fingers first, hm?” he murmurs, gentle but voice so deep your thighs shake where they’re apart. he stares at your panties, at the black lace you know are slick with your arousal just from looking at him, from moving on him so desperately, and the sight has him rubbing the heel of his hand against the bulge in his pants. 

two fingers hook into your panties, just barely pushing them to the side over the meat of your cunt. your folds are soaked, transparent wet slick smeared all the way up to your pubic hair and mingi groans like he’s seen the best meal of his life. 

your head spins too bad with it all to realise that he’s changed his mind until his blue head of hair ducks down and tongues over your hole. as you try to squirm and tighten your thighs around his head, two hands come down firmly to keep you spread for him, and he sucks the arousal out of your hole as it gushes. that sharp, pretty nose bumps against your clit when he pushes his tongue inside, concentrating, and your back arches up away from the couch.

“m-mingi, mingi, mingi-“

he pulls off with a wet noise, running his fat tongue through your folds a few more times. the saliva bubbles up over your clit and he sucks it right off, eyes peering up at you through his glasses and your noises all string together now, a long, nonsensical warble. 

“i’ll be quick,” his voice is hoarse, and he means it - two fingers dip into your hole at once, prodding and pressing inside until your walls give around them, gummy and malleable. you’re so wet from your own mess and his spit that he can force a third one in pretty quickly, but it doesn’t stop it being a lot so soon, your eyes crossing and fingers digging into blue hair. “g’na fuck you now, ‘m just stretching you out. don’t cum.”

you shake your head, crying out when his fingers thrust deeper. it feels impossible when he curls them up a few times, overstimulating you too fast, but it’s just his usual impatience. he wants to get you to stretch a little bit more, and he spits on your hole another time and rubs it in on an outwards thrust for good measure. 

you realise you were going to cum when he pulls away completely, eyes fluttering shut with an anguished noise, but by the time your eyes open again he’s on top of you, looking anything but apologetic, jeans gone and boxers pushed around his knees. his cock leaks as he scrambles onto you, desperate, and you can’t help but smile dazedly, reaching down to rub a thumb over his cockhead.

“fuck me now?” you slur, and he rubs his nose against you.

“mmhm. i love you,” he says, and your heart sings. “i love you so much, and i love that you love me. i’m going to fuck you into the couch now.”

“you’re gonna fuck me into the couch now,” you repeat dumbly, and he chuckles, shaking his head. his fingers come to your cheek, a gentle little love tap that makes your eyes cross, and then he’s positioning his cock at your sodden hole. 

“don’t stop looking at me,” he reminds you, pushing your leg up so your thigh is against your chest. you nod in response, unsure how far he’s going to push you, how much he’s going to bend you for this but you’re going to let him regardless, and he knows that. one hand comes to the pillows beneath you, right next to your head, and you’re forced to look at him, so close you can see the beauty spots on his face, his cheekbones and his jaw, where it drops slightly to let out a gasp at the feeling of your folds. “good, that’s it, sweet girl. look so pretty when you’re easy for me.”

“a-always easy,” you whine, and he hums, giving you the first inch or two. he’s always a stretch, wide mushroom head forcing your pussy to open even after his thick fingers have stretched you out; you make another noise, loud and strangled. “fu-uck, it’s- ah, it’s so-”

“‘s not deep enough, is it?” he coos, like he knows exactly what you want. you were going to say it’s so big, it’s so much, it’s too much even, but he’s got his mind set on something. “mm, i know what you want, baby, let me fuck you right.”

you let out a squeal when he pushes both of your legs back. you know he knows what you were really going to say, but he manhandles you with a face of determination until your knees are resting on his shoulders, over his shirt, bared fully open with half of a fat cock inside of you. 

he drives deeper then, planting his knees on the scratchy fabric of the couch and forcing his cock in down to his balls. the movement forces a gush of slick from your pussy, embarrassing and messy, but mingi groans in delight - he doesn’t let you protest, starting to fuck into you at a slow pace, deep and cruel.

your face screws up in another squeal, head spinning, embarrassed but it’s so deep inside that you think you might die if he stops. you’re not sure he isn’t in your stomach, and his weight pressing on you is intensifying the pleasure, contorting you tight and ensuring he fucks into that spot. it’s starting to affect him too, you can see - his chest flushes a deep pink beneath that damn shirt, sweat begins to bead at his forehead and his hands are frantic where they move. 

eyes fluttering shut, you let out a nonsensical babble, tight and squirming beneath him. mingi’s fingers wrapping around your neck tight make you snap back to reality, eyes shooting comically wide; he’s still fucking you deep but he looks meaner now, something different in his eyes, narrowing and perceiving you.

he huffs, “i told you to fuckin’ look, didn’t i? wanted me so bad, you got me.” 

your feet kick at his back when he presses flat against you, releasing your neck and kissing it sloppy, rutting against what must be your cervix now. the familiar pleasure-pain shoots through you. he likes to do it like this, when he’s feeling particularly mingi - he likes to overwhelm you, make you think nothing but him, remind you that he fucking owns you, that you can’t get this anywhere else and get cuddles afterwards. you’re made for each other.

“s-so mean,” you wail, but mingi shakes his head, snaking his hand between your bodies to rub his knuckles against your clit. it’s barely anything, so slippery and wrecked down there that he just slides around a little, but with the pistoning of his hips it’s enough to make you whine in appreciation. 

“you like it,” he admonishes, “wanted it like this-” his hands come down, spreading your asscheeks where he bullies into you. he’s practically lifting you off the couch, and something about it makes his dick glide in just a little nicer, wetter, and it makes him gasp too. “o-oh, fuck, i love you so much, love you. pretty, so pretty-”

“‘m gonna fuckin’ cum, shitshitshit,” you babble, and he curses, fingers digging into your ass harder. he slips a digit over your asshole, just rubbing over the taint and it’s all it takes - you cum around him messily, cunt spraying liquid over his cock. 

mingi just about manages to fuck you through it. he whines himself, hips stuttering but picking back up with a wince, a staggered little breath falling from his mouth. when he starts to fuck you again you squirt a few more desperate attempts over him and he shakes his head rapidly, pulling out with a tight grip around the base of his length.

“o-on the floor,” he grunts, eyes clenching shut, “fuck, get on the floor, now. eyes on me, tongue out.”

you do as he says, perching on your knees on the hardwood still in the daze of your orgasm, pussy feeling the loss so greatly you might cry. you wonder if he’ll keep going after this, but you’re quickly distracted by him when one hand comes to your head and keeps you still with it. you remember what he said and you look at him, sticking your tongue out dumbly, moaning when his other hand starts to strip his shaft impatiently. 

“gonna cum on your face,” he mumbles, eyes narrowing at you. his chest heaves with it, palm polishing his cockhead on an upwards stroke and forcing his balls to bounce on his downwards. they’re full, heavy and they slap against his thigh when he squirms and thrusts forward; when you cup them in one hand he lets out an ah, ah, ah, and you know what’s coming. 

fingers tighten in your hair and you manage to shut your eyes just before - a few stripes of hot, warm cum paint your face, and mingi grunts so deeply you feel your gut clenching all over again. once he’s finished, he rubs his cockhead against your cheek, smearing the release like he’s marking his territory.

“mm, don’t open your eyes yet,” he’s breathless, and you hear him fiddling with the pocket of his jeans until he finds what he’s looking for. a few more noises, and then you hear it, clear as day - multiple camera shutter sounds, and a pleased little sigh. “gonna make that my fuckin’ wallpaper. fuck, c’mere.”

you’re not expecting him to, but he grips the back of your head and licks his cum of your face himself, feeding it to you with his tongue. it’s all so dirty it has you scrabbling at his thighs, clambering onto his lap like an impatient dog as you chase his mouth and his lips and him. 

more, more, more, you think - you can’t get enough, and mingi’s hands wrap in your skirt again, tugging it fully over your ass this time. 

“i love you,” he murmurs, and you smile, like you’re not starting to grind your cunt on him again. “fuck, i love you, you’re so fucking pretty. god, you know how hot you are, don’t you?”

you giggle against his lips, finally pulling away, pressing a peck against his nose. he’s getting hard again, cock never fully softened, thumbing his half-solid, slick shaft against your thigh to get your attention. 

“damn straight,” you murmur, because you think he’d also remind you every hour if it’s what you wanted. 

[maho6any]

HE LICKED IT OGF MY FACEVvv ??? JUNO. IM GONA FUCKING KILL YOU OH MU GOD THIS IS TOP TIER CONTENT. MY PHONE IS SO STICKY GOOD LORD