he’s got a fetish for your love
fluff, uhh kissing, one curse word i think, marking, one suggestive line at the end
tsukishima kei, for one, is a massive pole of stoicism, bitterness, and sarcasm towards people he absolutely wants to piss off.
so why is it that he can’t help but turn needy once you’re in his peripheral vision?
you were just existing, walking into the gym while drinking some soda. but to tsukishima? you might as well broadcast your footsteps with how fast his head turned when he heard the sound of your shoes.
to tsukishima kei, you’re perfect. you’re so perfect that it makes his eye twitch in annoyance. he wants to get on your nerves, really, he does. thing is, all his sense of self-respect ran out of the window as soon as you appeared in his life.
nobody could believe their eyes when they saw tsukishima jog—yes, jog not walk, jog—towards you, his eyes wide with what normal people call ‘love’.
tsukishima kei who wrapped his arms around you, burying his face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in like a man that almost suffocated.
“you smell so fucking good, y/n..” he mumbles against your skin, voice hoarse and needy.
you just laugh, hugging him back which makes him melt in your hold. “c’mon kei, you still have practice.”
tsukishima kei who let out a needy, whiny huff as he lifts his head up closer to your ear. “would you let me kiss you more later?” he whispers, and since no one could see anything except for his back, he nibbles on your earlobe. “that’s the least you could do for looking this enticing.”
“you say that everyday.” you groan.
“but i’m right,” he counters, finally standing straight. he ignores the gasps of his teammates as he leans closer and kisses your forehead.
tsukishima kei who reluctantly walks back to his very intrigued yet astonished teammates and glares at them so they wouldn’t ask any questions.
tsukishima kei who, once practice ended, practically floated over to you. he already snatched your bag away, his free hand wrapping around your waist as he guides you out of the gym.
tsukishima kei who can’t stop himself from stopping your walk home just for him to drag you to a shady alleyway to trail kisses down your throat, his breathing heavy as he complains about you being way too addicting for him to keep his hands off you.
“how— how exactly am i supposed to keep my hands off you if you’re like this?” he murmurs as he gently sucks on your collarbone where no one would see.
“like what?” you ask, your hands fisting his uniform for support.
“you look tempting,” he replies, licking the skin he marked.
“school air got me. i barely even have anything on my face.”
tsukishima kei who pulls back with a sly smirk while licking his lips, “even better.”
tsukishima kei who stops only after your legs are weak from his kisses, he picks you up while carrying his and your bags, and starts carrying you home.
tsukishima kei who keeps leaning down to peck your pretty face every five minutes because he couldn’t help it. how could he even hold that back if he has such a perfect lover?
tsukishima kei who doesn’t walk away from your house until he’s sure you’re safe and sound.
tsukishima kei who folds with just a little bit of your attention. you look at him? he gives you a small, almost unnoticeable lovesick smile. you glare at him? his knees turn into jelly. you breathe near him? he’s a second away from asking you to suffocate him.
tsukishima kei who loves it when you get annoyed and you manhandle him by pulling him down by his tie or the collar of his shirt. he smirks slyly, eyes lovesick as he lets you tug him down, your eyes narrowed.
tsukishima kei who’s face turns pink because you’re glaring at him. he keeps taunting you just to see you pissed off, loving how attractive you look.
tsukishima kei who’s eyes can’t help but drift to your lips while you scold him for being snarky, so he does the only justifiable thing to soothe your pretty little angered brain. he smashes his lips on yours, making you gasp.
tsukishima kei who takes that gasp as his chance to slip his tongue in your mouth, his hands coming up to cup your face and slightly tilt it to the side.
tsukishima kei who grins when you both pull back panting, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “guess that’s one way to shut your pretty mouth up, huh?”
tsukishima kei who can’t help but get hard whenever you look at him too long or when you narrow your pretty eyes at him. he’s pathetic since he has a fetish for your love.
a/n: might be bad, ngl. it’s been awhile since i wrote anything like this.. like, a few days lol
bestfriend!kita who malfunctions like a robot as soon as he sees you
fluff
the inarizaki volleyball team is convinced that kita is a god, or at the very least, a robot sent from the future to keep them from destroying the gym. he doesn’t fumble, he doesn’t panic, and he certainly doesn’t get flustered.
until you walk into the gym carrying a box of freshly made, homemade bento lunches for the team.
“ah, y/n!” atsumu yells, immediately dropping his ball and sprinting toward you like a wild animal. “did ya make the sweet tamagoyaki i asked for—”
before atsumu can even reach you, a hand plants itself firmly in the center of his face, shoving him backward. kita steps directly between you and the twins, his posture perfectly straight, though his eyes are fixed intently on the box in your hands.
“miya, pick up your ball and finish your drills,” kita says, his voice flat, but there’s a strange, tight tension in his shoulders.
“aw, come on, kita, we’re just hungry—” osamu starts, but shuts up the second kita turns his gaze toward him.
kita turns back to you, taking the heavy box from your arms with absolute care. his fingers brush against yours, and for a split second, the unflappable captain completely freezes. his eyes wide a fraction, and a bright, unmistakable blush spreads across his cheekbones.
“thank you, y/n,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual. “you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble for them. i’ll make sure they eat every bite. and... i’ll walk you home after i finish cleaning up.”
atsumu squeaks from behind him, whispering loudly to his brother, “osamu... did ya see that? the robot just glitched.”
the bet, ie: you losing to iida and facing the fireworks.
“stop.. i-fuck.. i can’t” your words came out breathy and with no real conviction. you glared but it faltered as iida bit down your thighs, his fingers inside you with a thumb on your clit. “so much anger for a girl whose slipping up. don’t give up now, your promised remember?” you could practically feel his smirk as he kissed your lower stomach, those red eyes gazing up at you.
flashback: last week you and iida made a bet. but you weren’t very serious about it. the two of you were classmates but butted heads often on grades, rank, strength, and skill.
“that is completely unacceptable, you cheated!” iida said sternly, wiping the blood from his nose as you grinned. after a rough training session you decided to trip him up letting one of his blows rip your top off juuusst enough to not reveal all your tits. he stumbled and your attack began, he got pushed out of the ring and you won. “hah! i winn” you covered your body and noticed he could still barely focus. “oo look at the virgin tripping up” you teased, he fumed “this is extremely inappropriate! i would’ve won fair and square!” you smile, “ah. but you didn’t anddd it’s kinda your fault that my shirt ripped, so whose the perv here?” his ears burned red, you covered your mouth to stifle a laugh “that is-that’s not! i’m..i will get you another shirt. stay there.” he sped off “but i still would’ve won” he glared back at you.
later..”did you do that because you think you can’t beat me fairly?” he raised a brow slightly condescending. that irked you, but your tried not to show it “oh i can beat you, it’s just more fun to watch you fuck up.” you smile, he tilts his head, pushing those glasses up with that stupidly hot look in his crimson eyes. “alright, how about a bet?” your curiosity was peaked “hm.. what kind?” his lip quirked up slightly “tomorrows math test. whoever gets a higher score has to do something the other asks.. no refusal.” he straightened up for a second and that scary look softened “unless ofc it’s utterly unreasonable.” then the look returned “will you take it up?” you thought for a second..”dont go back on your word when i beat you and ask some crazy shit” you smile, amused.
he grins, you rarely saw that.. your heart beat a bit faster for some silly reason. “deal.”
after the test.. “you want me to what?!” you asked startled, mouth ajar. this COULDNT be the same iida tenya who spoke strictly and enforced rules with a stick up his ass. his face didn’t change. he stepped closer, backing you up against the edge of his bed. iidas hand brushed your hair back, gripping the back of your neck firmly, he smirked. “i want to touch you” he spoke into your ear.
now.. you bit down on your lip, drawing blood, trying your hardest to stifle any sounds. he gripped your hand, “don’t do that. i wanna hear it, i wanna hear you..” he kissed and nipped his way up to your lips, removing your hand. you’d never seen that face on him before, one of amusement and lust.. needy in those eyes, glasses fogged up-some of your slick still on them. “this is a trip..” you whimper, words muffled as he licks up the blood on your lips, tongue chasing yours in hot heady kisses.
“why do you say that? is it so crazy that i want you.” your heart thudded fast like a day ago. your body heated as he drew his fingers out of you, spreading them and smiling at the wetness stuck to em. “i always wondered..” he put them in his mouth and sucked.. eyes closing to savor the taste. “holy shit.” you muttered breathy, insanely turned on. iida made his way back to your lips, making out wetly. you chased his mouth as he drew up to strip his shirt off and push his glasses up with a finger. “you taste good..little salty and-“ “shut up!” you cut him off embarrassed “i don’t need a rundown of my—where did u learn to do that anyway.. i thought u were a virgin??” he smiled devilishly “who said im not? i simply did my research.” before you could question it he bent back to down to mouth at your chest.
“iida..” you temebled as he grinded against you. “tenya. use my first name, please.” there’s that polite good guy you knew. he ate you out with so much fervor it was like he was making out with your core. your legs shook as he licked right up the middle and nose nudged your clit left and right. “i-i need to..fuck i need to pee wait p-please” those blood red eyes only grew more excited as he doubled down. “do it. i don’t care, in fact i fucking need it” he growled into your pussy.
“t-tenya..!” you couldn’t hold it any longer and came hard, he happily licked it all up, kissing everywhere along you. he dug his tongue in you, almost reaching that spongy spot as his glasses pressed into indents into you. he lapped up every drop as you came down from that peak, all the while his hips never stopped grinding into the mattress. with a guttural groan he finally pulled off you. the sight was so sexy you almost came again. his lips and face were flushed a cute pink, lips and face up to his eyes sweaty and slicked. then you realize..
“did you just..from giving me head??” you would’ve laughed if you had the fucking energy. his body loomed over yours as he sat up on his knees. he tugged his sweats down a bit and sighed at the sticky mess. “don’t judge. it’s your fault anyhow.” “hahah…” you caught your breath for a minute as he rubbed your hips, placing a shirt over you and cleaning up with a towel. those crimson eyes never left you.
you noticed he was hard again, iida follows your stare “i’ll deal with it.” you grabbed his hand “wait..i can do it for you.. if you want?” you crawled over towards him, back arched. hands on his sweats. he grit his teeth “yeah i want it, so fucking bad.”
hi soo i’ve been thinking about you being a new teacher at UA and instantly crushing on adult teacher izuku because you know him and know everything about his story as a heroe (you were in another class and always thought he was very cute and kind of admired him) and he’s very nice and warm to you helping you to feel welcomed buuuut you try your best to not being delulu bc you don’t see yourself as anything special and like he’s out of your league (you also heard about a thing going on between him and ochako a while ago but doesn’t really know how that ended or if it was true and preferred to ignore the topic lol don’t hate me i really like them irl 😔🤟🏻)
but what you don’t notice it’s that he also sees you! and knows more about you than what you think!
it can be only fluff it can be a mix of that and a bit of spicy ya know whatever mood you’re feeling in when writing it queen hope i explained myself and that the idea isn’t weird i just love izuku sm and really enjoy all your writings about mha so yeah thank you and have a nice day! 💗
Once a Dream, Now a Reality
༉‧₊˚. summary: teacher!izuku x new teacher!reader who have been secretly after each other since their own years at UA who revisit the topic of interest after all these years.
༉‧₊˚. warning/s: suggestive, making out, 18+
༉‧₊˚. w/c: 3.2k~
The staff room at UA smelled like fresh coffee and printer ink. You smoothed down your new blazer for the third time, clutching your lesson planner like a shield. First day as the new Support Course coordinator and occasional Quirk Ethics lecturer. Big shoes. Bigger nerves.
You’d graduated from UA years ago—Class 1-C, the “quiet achievers” track that didn’t get the spotlight but still produced solid heroes. You’d built a decent name for yourself doing fieldwork in quirk regulation and support gear development. But walking these halls again felt surreal.
Especially when he walked in.
Izuku Midoriya—now 28, full-time heroics instructor, and somehow even more unfairly attractive than the lanky, determined kid you’d watched from across the courtyard all those years ago. His curls were a bit tamer but still wild at the ends. The freckles remained. The green eyes, sharp with years of experience, scanned the room before landing on you.
Your stomach did an annoying little flip.
“New face,” he said, voice warm but carrying that calm authority he’d grown into. He crossed the room and offered his hand. “Izuku Midoriya. Heroics Department. You must be Y/N from Support.”
You took his hand. His grip was firm, calloused from years of hero work. “That’s me. Please don’t tell me my reputation precedes me in a terrifying way.”
He smiled—small, genuine, with just a hint of something sassy behind it. “Only good things. Your work on adaptive support items for multi-quirk users was impressive. I’ve cited your papers in a few lessons.”
Heat crawled up your neck. Of course he’d read your papers. Nerdy Izuku had evolved into scholarly Izuku.
“Flattery on day one? Dangerous tactic, Mr. Midoriya.”
“Call me Izuku. We’re colleagues now.” He tilted his head slightly. “Coffee? The machine actually works today.”
You followed him, trying to keep your bubbly energy from spilling into full-blown fan-girl territory. You’d always noticed him back then—how kind he was even when the world was cruel, how hard he fought, how cute he looked when he muttered analysis under his breath. Admiration had quietly bloomed into a long-distance crush you’d buried under practicality. He was the Deku. Symbol of Hope. Out of your league by several galaxies.
And there were the rumors about him and Uraraka. Something had happened years ago. You’d heard whispers during your own hero circuit days but chose to ignore them. Safer that way.
Izuku made good on the welcome. Over the next week he showed you the ropes with quiet efficiency—where the good printers were, which vending machines ate your money, how to navigate Aizawa’s silent judgment during staff meetings.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said one afternoon in the teachers’ lounge, sliding a properly calibrated training schedule across the table. “Aizawa looks like he hates everything, but he’s just tired. Present Mic is loud but harmless. All Might still tries to give everyone motivational speeches at lunch.”
You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “And you? What’s your role in this chaos?”
“Professional note-taker and occasional chaos mitigator.” His lips quirked. “Also the guy who gets roped into demonstrating Quirk control drills because apparently I’m still the ‘relatable’ one.”
“Relatable. Sure. The man who punched destiny in the face is relatable.”
He raised an eyebrow, sassy glint appearing. “Careful. I know where you parked your car. I could leave analysis scribbles on your windshield.”
You grinned. God, he was warm. The kind of warm that made you want to lean in and stay there. But you caught yourself. Don’t be delulu. He’s just being nice. You’re the new girl. He’d do this for anyone.
You threw yourself into the work. Your classes were lively—students loved your outgoing energy and the way you turned dry ethics discussions into debates that actually mattered. You cracked jokes, bantered with the kids, and tried not to overthink every hallway encounter with Izuku.
He was always there with a helpful comment or a quiet offer of support. One evening you were stuck late grading, surrounded by scattered files on quirk overexertion risks.
A soft knock. Izuku appeared with two takeout containers.
“You forgot dinner again,” he said simply, setting one in front of you. “Katsudon. Hope that’s okay.”
Your heart did the stupid flip again. “You didn’t have to. I was going to survive on spite and vending machine chips.”
“Spite has poor nutritional value.” He sat across from you, opening his own container. “Besides, I wanted to ask your opinion on something. One of my students has a quirk similar to your old support gear designs—energy redirection. I thought your field notes might help.”
You talked shop for over an hour. He listened intently, green eyes focused, occasionally muttering analysis under his breath just like old times. It made your chest ache with nostalgia and something sharper.
At one point he looked up. “You know, I remember you from our UA days.”
You blinked. “You… do?”
“Of course. Class 1-C. You led that project on ethical quirk usage in rescue operations. Your presentation was one of the best that year. I still have the notes somewhere.”
Your cheeks burned. He remembered that? You’d been so nervous presenting while he sat three rows back, taking furious notes.
“I was just doing my part,” you said lightly, trying to deflect. “Meanwhile you were out there becoming a legend. No comparison.”
Izuku’s expression shifted—stoic but with a flicker of something softer. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Sell yourself short. Your work saves lives too. Support tech and regulation matter just as much as the frontline.” He paused, then added with a hint of sass, “Besides, I’ve read your latest article on quirk burnout. Three times. It’s excellent.”
You stared. He’d read it three times?
The air felt warmer. You cleared your throat. “Well… thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
He smiled again, small and private. You tried not to read into it. Tried not to notice how his gaze lingered a second longer than necessary.
The rumors nagged at you anyway.
During a staff happy hour (forced by Present Mic), you overheard two teachers whispering about “Midoriya and Uraraka” and “that complicated history.” You sipped your drink and steered the conversation elsewhere, laughing a bit too loudly at Mic’s terrible jokes. You weren’t going to ask. It was none of your business. Whatever had or hadn’t happened was in the past.
Izuku found you later on the balcony, escaping the noise.
“Overwhelmed already?” he asked, leaning on the railing beside you. The city lights glittered below.
“A little. But in a good way. I forgot how intense this place is.”
He nodded. The silence stretched comfortably for a moment.
“You’re doing great, by the way,” he said quietly. “The students like you. They need someone with your energy. I… appreciate it too.”
Your heart stuttered. “Appreciate?”
“Having someone who gets it. Who sees the work beyond the headlines.” He turned to face you fully. The stoic mask cracked just a fraction—nerdy sincerity shining through. “I’ve followed your career more than I probably should have. Your paper on post-quirk trauma support helped me restructure part of my curriculum.”
You laughed softly, self-deprecating. “Izuku, you don’t have to butter me up. I know I’m not exactly… on your level. You’re Deku. I’m the new teacher who makes bad support item puns.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, sassy edge returning. “Stop that. You’re brilliant. And funny. And you make this place feel less heavy.” He hesitated, then continued, voice lower. “I noticed you back then too, you know. Always smiling even during tough drills. Kind to everyone. I thought you were… really something.”
The words hung between you. Your breath caught.
“I thought you were cute,” you blurted, then immediately regretted it. “Back then. I mean—admired you. A lot. But I figured someone like you wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t what?” He stepped closer. Not crowding, but close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne mixed with clean sweat from afternoon training. “Wouldn’t notice someone like you?”
You swallowed. “Something like that.”
Izuku’s hand brushed your arm lightly—hesitant but warm. “You’re wrong. I noticed. I still notice.”
The tension built slowly after that.
Izuku remained professional in front of others—warm colleague, helpful mentor. But in quiet moments he let the walls down. Shared lunches turned into late-night planning sessions. He’d bring you tea exactly how you liked it without asking. You’d tease him about his endless notebooks; he’d fire back with dry, nerdy sass that left you laughing.
One Thursday evening, after a long joint training drill, you both ended up in the equipment room sorting gear.
“You’re staring,” you said playfully, holding up a damaged gauntlet.
“Observing,” he corrected, stepping around the table. “There’s a difference.”
“Oh? And what are you observing, Professor?”
He set the clipboard down. The room felt smaller. “That you’ve been avoiding being alone with me since the balcony.”
Your bubbly facade faltered. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. There were rumors about you and Ochako—”
“It ended years ago,” he said simply, no hesitation. “Mutual. Friendly. She’s with someone else now. Happy.” He moved closer. “I’m not.”
Your back hit the edge of a shelf. He stopped just short of touching you, giving you space.
“Izuku…”
“I know more about you than you think,” he murmured. The stoic mask was gone—replaced by quiet intensity and a hint of vulnerability. “I’ve read every paper. Followed your fieldwork reports. When UA needed a new support instructor, I may have… strongly suggested your name.”
Your eyes widened. “You what?”
He gave a small, almost shy shrug. “You belong here. And selfishly… I wanted to see you again.”
The confession cracked your defenses. You reached up, fingers brushing one of his curls. “You’re dangerous, you know that? All warm and thoughtful and unfairly hot.”
His laugh was low, a little rusty. “Says the woman who lights up every room she walks into.”
The first kiss was soft—testing. His hand cupped your cheek like you were something precious. Then you tugged him closer and it deepened, turning hungry. Years of quiet admiration on both sides poured out. His body pressed against yours, solid and warm from years of hero work. You felt the tension in his shoulders, the way his breath hitched when your fingers slid into his hair.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing uneven. “We should probably lock the door if we’re going to continue this conversation.”
You laughed, bubbly and breathless. “Nerd. Always thinking ahead.”
“Strategic,” he corrected, kissing you again—slower this time, savoring. His hands settled on your waist, thumbs brushing under the hem of your shirt. The touch sent heat curling through you. Not rushed. Just enough promise to leave you wanting.
When you finally separated, both flushed, he looked at you with a mix of awe and that familiar determination.
“I don’t do things halfway, Y/N. If we do this… I’m all in.”
You smiled, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “Good. Because I’ve been half in love with the idea of you for years. Might as well go full throttle.”
He chuckled. “Full throttle with proper risk assessments, right?”
“Obviously. We’re UA teachers.”
The next weeks were a careful balance of professional distance and stolen moments. Quick kisses in empty hallways. Late dinners at his apartment where he’d ramble about hero analysis and you’d tease him until he shut you up with his mouth. He was surprisingly handsy once comfortable—nerdy precision turning into focused affection that left you dizzy.
One night, curled on his couch after a long day, his hand traced lazy patterns on your thigh under the blanket.
“You’re really here,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Not just in my notes anymore.”
You turned, straddling his lap with a playful grin. “Very here. And very real.”
His hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently. The kiss that followed was deeper, slower, carrying heat that built steadily. Clothes stayed on but hands wandered—exploring, learning. He was gentle but confident, murmuring praises against your skin that made your pulse race. You gave as good as you got, teasing his neck until he made that quiet, wrecked sound you were quickly becoming addicted to.
No rush. Just the warm promise of more.
Monday morning staff meeting, you sat across from him like nothing had changed. But when your eyes met, his smile was softer, just for you. You winked. He raised an eyebrow—stoic in public, but the corner of his mouth twitched with hidden sass.
You were still the new teacher finding her place.
He was still the legendary Deku.
But now the distance you’d imagined between you felt wonderfully, perfectly gone.
summary . . . your work bestie is a 49 year old man who tries to stay “hip and cool” with “the youngsters”, and that’s just you dealing with his memes. part two can be found here.
notes. literally just what the summary says 🫡 i did a banner because i was not gonna use a gif set for this but it looked clustered so i changed it. i’ll figure it out as i go what i do with smaus/texts n stuff 🤨
tags ──────── platonic, crack fic tbh, texts. leon is your annoying peepaw in this 😼
you push MINGI back on to the bed, his dark eyes meeting with yours. his broad chest rises and falls with quick breaths, muscles tensing under your hands as you climb over him. as you straddle him, you line his tip up with your entrance. with no hesitation, you slide fully down his length until his hips meet your thighs.
"god damn, baby," he groans, his large hands gripping your flesh, fingers digging in just enough to send sparks up your spine. his mouth caught one of your nipples as you rode him slowly, using his chest as leverage for your pacing.
when you grind down with more force, mingi's head falls back against the pillow, with a low moan escaping his lips. "it feels so good," he murmurs, voice deep enough to give you goosebumps. his hands slide up to your hips, thumbs brushing the curve of your ass as you ride.
you lift yourself up where just the head remains inside, and slam back down each time. each thrust sends waves of heat coiling in your belly, your clit rubbing against his pelvis with every motion. his groans mix with yours, his grip tightening, guiding you faster. "ride me harder," he demands, bucking up to meet you, his cock hitting deeper, making you cry out in pleasure.
vampire leon trying so hard to be respectful and not feed on you but you keep unknowingly tease him by baring your neck to him. you catch him staring at your neck with dazed eyes, and you're smiling at him so sweetly, he almost feels his dead heart pulse. he's trying to satiate himself by leaving kisses along your pulse points, feeling your heart beat through your skin. he nips at your skin whike trying to regain his composure as he takes in the tantalizing scent of your blood.
⋮ 🏎️ᝰ.ᐟ ┆ HYBRID AU : dragon!hybrid kirishima, bunny!hybrid izuku, wolf!hybrid bakugou, cat!hybrid shinso, white tiger!hybrid shoto x f!afab!reader
ᯓ★ ༝ monster fucking, breeding, groping, dry humping, scaled dick (?), begging, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, cumming in pants..?, talking about scents and stuff, dubcon, marathon sex, m!masturbation, implied somnophilia, dry humping, mating press, deepthroating, hair pulling, hand over the mouth..?, face fucking, kissing, biting.
⚡︎ ›› the MHA men are in heat!
🏁ּ ┆thank you guys so much for 400 followers i love you all - HYBRIDS FOR EVERYONE! also do not be fooled, it's still dom!character lol. this is also my first time writing for shoto and shinso so lmk what you think! unless you think it's trash then shh
Izuku Midoriya - Bunny!
Izuku certainly wasn't happy about his new appearance. Floppy gray ears, a libido the size of a damn wildfire. And the tail. God, he really hated the stupid tail. All white and bushy, poking out of his clothes, no matter how much he tried to keep it down.
Initially, this whole hybrid thing wasn't that bad. It was only the body changes, and his sudden insistence on eating carrots that really changed.
That was until he saw you clad in one of his t-shirts, eyes tired and hair messy as you made your way towards him. His nose twitches the closer you get, your scent suddenly overpowering even the breakfast on the stove.
You place a small kiss on his cheek, then his nose. Giving the small tail on his backside a gentle tug, to which he shoos your hand away. His eyes are trained on your back as you collapse onto the couch. Legs swaying comfortably in the air behind you. A burning heat rises through his body, teeth gritting at the sight of you on your phone. He's not sure why it bothers him so much that you're choosing to focus your attention on your stupid phone instead of being glued to his side in his time of need.
Thump.
Instinctively, he looks down at his foot. The limb moving like it had a mind of its own.
Thump. Thump.
Oh, no. He's already dealing with the tail, there was no way he was gonna accept thumping his foot like he's some kind of toddler who isn't getting enough attention.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
This time, it catches your attention. Your head shoots up from behind the couch, eyes locking on where Izuku is, very clearly, stepping on his own foot.
"Uh, everything alright?"
"Y-yep! No problems at all," he laughs, as you stare at him suspiciously. You have no time to question him when the fire alarm sounds, the breakfast forgotten on the stove now blowing smoke all over the room.
And if it wasn't for that, he's not sure he would've had the control to pull himself away from you.
It doesn't take him long to figure out what's wrong.
The restlessness, the sensitivity, the way his body reacts before he can even think.
Heat.
When he realizes it, he's both mortified and extremely embarrassed. Any interactions with you don't go unanalyzed; the emotions, the touches, the tension, are all raised tenfold.
Slowly, he starts avoiding you. Not because of you, obviously not. But because of what he wants to do to you. It's an intense, almost wild feeling that brews inside him every time he catches himself staring longer than he should.
Your scent is everywhere. On the couch. In his clothes. On the sleeves of the hoodie you keep stealing from him.
At some point, he realizes it's better just to do something about it. Ignoring it only makes it worse.
The next time he realizes it's a problem is when he finds you at your desk late at night.
The bright screen of the computer is the only source of light in the dark room, your shoulders hunched as you tap away at the keyboard.
Shortly after, you feel a presence in the room.
Your boyfriend is pacing the floor behind you, restless in a way you haven't seen before. Occasionally, he'll come up real close to you, green hair tickling the back of your neck. You have no time to dwell on it before he's moving again, pacing the room like he's scared of what might happen if he lets himself stop.
"Izuku?"
The call of his name stops him in his tracks. "Mhm?"
"Why're you smelling my neck?"
"…I'm honestly not sure."
You turn the chair around, laughing at his sheepish expression. You plant a small kiss on his face, then two, then three. Until your lips collide with each other so passionately that it's hard to pull away. Reluctantly, you do. Turning back around in your chair and focusing on the device in front of you.
Thump. Thump.
And there it is, that familiar sound that Izuku knows all too well. And now he knows exactly why.
Leaving you out of it didn't feel possible anymore.
And he didn't want to.
He slinks down to his knees, hard enough that you're convinced it leaves a bruise. Spinning the chair, so you're facing him, and lifting your legs over his shoulders
"Z-zuku? What are you-"
"'M really sorry to bother you with this," he starts cutting himself off by placing a small lick on your clit. "Need you. Really bad," he mumbles, warm breath fanning over your heat. He licks slowly, his tongue trailing from your hole up to your clit. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair, hips grinding slightly against the feeling of his tongue.
"B-bother me with what Izuku -fuck- w-what's going on?"
He ignores you at first, his tongue preoccupied with burying itself in your folds. His nose nudges your clit with each movement, like he's trying to drown himself between your thighs. The fur of his ears brushes against your stomach every time he presses his face in deeper.
"Think I'm in heat, been so h-hard these last few days just looking at you, didn't want to bother you," he says, it's rushed, but you hear it. You can only moan in response when his mouth is back on your clit, biting and sucking the swollen nub. He's acting like your body might disappear if he doesn't have his mouth on it.
"Mmm - fuck - Izuku. W-why didn't you t-tell- ah, fuck right there," you whine, hips rolling onto his tongue. His thumb finds your clit, as he makes small circles on the nub.
"You gonna cum?" he asks, green eyes flicking up to yours, mouth glistening as he speaks. You nod your head, lip moving between your teeth as you cum, and your hips stuttering against his mouth. He groans into your heat, lapping at your juices like he's scared he'll miss a drop. You have to tug at his hair to get him off you, body doubling over from overstimulation.
Reluctantly, he pulls off. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it off his fingers. Your eyes lock on the dark spot between his legs, sticky white substance dripping down his thighs onto the floor.
His eyes follow your gaze, his hands already moving to squeeze his cock, trying to suppress the growing sensation between his legs.
"Finally gonna let me help you?"
Katsuki Bakugou - Wolf!
Katsuki was embarrassed; that much was clear. Having fluffy ears and a bushy tail was definitely not his style. He was hit with this hybrid quirk almost 2 weeks ago; the effects of it have been more of a mental challenge for him than a physical one.
When he walks through the door with his new ... additions, you can't help the small laugh that tumbles from your lips before you clasp a hand over his mouth. But he hears it.
"You laughing at me?"
"No, no. Of course not," you lie, rolling your eyes as you move closer to him. "I think you look really cute like this," you smile, a hand already making its way to mess with the tail on his back.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't call me that," he huffs, but his tail betrays him. It flicks once, then twice, swinging so hard it knocks over the lamp on the coffee table.
He doesn't let you get another word in as he walks away, hiding the light shades of pink that dare to spread on his cheeks. His pride screams at him to act normal, but you've always been his one weakness, and he knows you see right through the act. A warmth floods through his body as he replays the moment in his head. The softness of your gaze, your face mere inches from his. And obviously, the compliment didn't hurt either.
"Don't be embarrassed, Kats. It's fine," you giggle, making your way towards his spot on the couch. Even though his body doesn't move, his tail certainly does. Curling towards you despite himself, and brushing against your wrists.
Your legs move to straddle his hips, pulling his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers. If he didn't want to talk, that was fine - you'd just find other ways to help him out.
Your lips collide, teeth clashing with every press. His tongue trails along your bottom lip before shoving its way into your mouth. His grip on you tightens as your hips move, the feeling of you grinding against him sending him into a spiral.
Maybe a little too far.
His thighs flex underneath you as he moans against your lips, the warmth spreading against your clit making your heart flutter.
"Katsuki ... did you cum?"
"… So what if I did?" he snarls. Katsuki prided himself on being a gentleman; it was practically sacred that he'd never cum before a woman. Especially his women. But with the additions to his body, overwhelming need to breed you, and the sight of you sitting so pretty in front of him, all control's gone out the window.
He clenches his jaw, planning his next actions. Sure, he hates that you're seeing him like this, and if he gave it the opportunity, he's sure his tail would be between his legs. But for some reason, there's a darker heat that dares to rise to his surface, a feralness that can't be ignored. Katsuki is a prideful man. He doesn't let embarrassment stop him from taking over, even if it means marking you in the process.
"You tryna' tell me something? Gonna need t-to use your words."
Asshole.
Saying all that to shit to you when he knows damn well his hand is acting as a makeshift muzzle over your mouth. The smell of burnt caramel and musk infiltrates your senses. His thrusts are rough against your hips, each movement sending your face deeper into his hands. The muffled your moans and his hips hitting yours, bouncing off the walls.
Your ankles rest on his shoulders, chest bouncing every time his hips clash with yours. His hips drive into you with so much force your convinced the bed might snap in half.
"Mmm -fuck- taking it so well," he huffs, head dropping down as blonde strands graze your forehead. His eyes are shut tightly, his bottom lip trapped between his canines. Small dots of crimson form where they dig into the flesh.
With some of the strength you can muster, you move his hand off your mouth. Placing it so it holds the side of your face. It's delicate, the complete opposite of the way his hips piston inside you.
"'Suki f-fuck" you whine, hole tightening around his length to the point where he's not sure he could move even if he wanted to. After a few more thrusts, you feel the coil inside you snap. All composure disappearing as tears flow down the apples of your cheek. Your arms instinctively reach to wrap around him, fingers tangling in the hair on the nape of his neck.
He follows suit shortly after, white streams of cum covering the base of his cock. His body collapses onto yours, face resting in the crook of your neck as he litters small kisses onto your shoulder. A silent reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere.
Your body's exhausted, muscles spent, and legs sore from the positions he's had you in the past two hours. Your eyes feel heavy, your body finally succumbs to the intense desire of sleep.
Until you feel his lips move against yours, shallow and slow, but enough to notice.
"Katsuki, 'm tired," you whine, although you're not sure if it's from exhaustion or the feeling of his cock moving inside you all over again.
"I know, 's okay, I got you. Just relax"
A silent promise that he had no intention of letting you go just yet.
Eijiro Kirishima - Dragon!
Kirishima has been running warmer these days. Much warmer.
Perhaps that's also one of the side effects of having leathery wings, a pointed tail and large horns on the top of his head. A dragon hybrid. That's who you were stuck housing in your tiny apartment that barely allowed space for a single chair, let alone him.
The redhead was big, in many ways. His presence already made any room feel incredibly smaller whenever he moved around. Now, with his new additions, you're convinced you'll suffocate before making it out of there alive. Especially now, during this 'heat cycle', where his sex drive is higher than it's ever been.
He was definitely not afraid to ask for what he wanted, and you certainly weren't scared to give it to him. But he always felt like he needed to hold back, afraid of what might happen to him, to you, if he let himself go completely.
When this heat came along, you were ready to tend to him in any way he might need, wanting nothing more than to be able to help him through the storm he was trying to contain. And yet, when the first signs appeared, lips clashing in a heated kiss, you drop to your knees.
Utterly surprised when a clawed hand stops you.
".. What do you mean, no? You're hard," you say, hands moving to grab at his pants before his hands grab yours. Sharp claws poking at the skin on your wrist.
"Just slow down a second. I don't … look the same down there anymore," he laughs, hand coming up to scratch at his neck.
"Kiri, it's not like you lost your dick. … Right?" It's meant to be a joke, but you're not sure it actually is. It would be a very tragic loss for society.
You watch as he fumbles with the drawstring, grey sweats pooling at his ankles as his hands move to his boxers. But he didn't need to take those off for you to see it.
Small ridges run alongside his cock, a pointed tip and scales decorating the ligament.
He watches as your breath catches in your throat, eyes widened and mouth opening slightly at the sight. A heat rises to his cheeks as he quickly moves to cover himself up.
"See? This is why I didn't want to show you," he huffs, ignoring the way you rub a soothing hand along his arms, all the way up to his neck, giggling at the pout present on his face.
He's scared to fuck you. Scared of what might happen when he trails his cock on the inside of your gummy walls. Scared you might not be the only one who breaks.
But you feel guiltier that it doesn't scare you at all.
"Ah! K-kiri, be gentle," you huff, eyes squeezed shut at the unfamiliar sensation. His hands encompassing yours as he eases into you.
Scales. Everywhere. A pointed tip, deep ridges running the sides of his cock. Every inch he pushes steals the air from your lungs, the sensation unlike anything you've felt before.
"Sorry! 'M sorry, just -fuck- you feel so good, pretty," he moans. He takes a slow breath before moving again, the feeling of you wrapped around him is heightened with his new attributes. Sharp teeth attach to his bottom lip, as he ignores all the screams in his body that tell him to go faster, harder.
He bottoms out slowly, hips colliding with yours as his body is completely pressed against you. You squeeze around his length, as you take in the feeling, every ridge creating a feeling you've never felt before.
"More. Fuck, gimme more," he whines, head coming down to bite at your neck.
He's insatiable.
"Please? Tell me I can move, please? N-need to- to breed you," he huffs, open-mouthed kisses trailed along your neck as his hips move slowly against you. Each time his hips meet yours, it pushes him in deeper than the last time, his tip kissing his cervix with each thrust.
"Mmm, Kiri. F-Faster, please," you whine, arms wrapping around his shoulders. Your fingers trailing along the scales of the dragon wings that decorate his back, making him shudder inside you.
His hips stutter against you, his eyes trailing over yours in hesitation.
"You sure? Dunno if I can… can stop once I start," he mumbles, eyes already shut tight from the feeling of you wrapped around him. You give him a small nod and a reassuring kiss, hands brushing the hair out of his face before trailing down the sides of his horns.
He winces at the feeling, the sensitivity of them driving his hips faster. Rougher. Like he's been holding himself back longer than he should've been. His body's practically burning at the touch, every inch of him feeling like it's on fire.
"F-fuck, Kiri"
"Shh, I know. I know," he hums, lifting a hand to your face, then dragging it towards your womb. You throw your head back at the feeling, each scale suddenly more prominent as he pushes down on your stomach. "Feel me all the way in here? Huh?" he asks, tight-lipped smile tugging at his mouth as you writhe underneath him.
All you can manage out is cries or whines, hands flailing in search of something to keep you grounded. They settle on the horns.
"A-Ah, be gentle, baby. Their sensitive" he winces, tail moving around aimlessly at the feeling.
Hitoshi Shinso - Cat!
When Shinso first came home with the cat tail and matching ears, you thought it was a joke. Laughing in his face, thinking maybe it was some type of kinky role play. Until you gave them a sharp tug, and instead of it coming off, he hissed at you.
His tail flicked sharply behind him, a concerned look on his face as his purple eyes bored into yours, "Don't touch that," he snapped, voice tight as he walked away.
At first, he tried to act as if nothing had changed. As if the cat tail and matching ears were just accessories. But you could feel the shift in little ways. The way his ears twitched when you laughed, or how his tail would lift when you got too close. His body was practically begging for you while his mouth said otherwise.
"Shinso, are you sure?" you ask, breath heavy as you move off of him.
"Yeah, yeah. We just fucked, you really think I'm that horny?" he snorts, obviously offended by how little you think of him. You roll your eyes as your feet pad towards the bathroom, shower water running as you take off your clothes. Not that you had much on to begin with.
He tried his best to keep this whole heat thing under control. Using the spare moments when you weren't around to get himself off with anything of yours that he could find. He'd keep his face buried in your pillow, hips grinding against the sheets of the mattress as if it were his lifeline. Gentle moans of your name spilling from his soft lips.
"Hitoshi!" you yell, a pair of your lace panties balled in your hands. You march towards him, tossing the fabric onto his chest, completely ignoring the way his cock twitches against his stomach just from the sound of your voice.
"What did I do now?" he asks, eyes half lidded, a bored look plastered on his face.
"Why don't you tell me?" you ask, arms crossing over your chest. You'd just come out of the shower, water droplets trail down your body, forming a small pool at your feet.
He holds the fabric between two fingers, a white spot covering a majority of the lace.
Oops.
You don't let him respond before you grab his wrist, another pair of a similar style balled in his fists.
"And you took another pair? What the fuck, Hitoshi." you huff, body moving to snatch them out of his hands.
But he knew better than to let you have it; he already knew it wouldn't end well for him.
"Just missed you, is all," he says, guiding you onto his lap, towel long forgotten in a mound on the floor. Your bodies are perfectly aligned, even one small movement has you trembling in places you needed him most.
"Didn't you miss me?" he asks, large hands caressing the sides of your body. Of course, you missed him. Who wouldn't? Knowing your boyfriend was just on the other side of the wall, using things that reminded him of you instead of just using you yourself. And even though you're mad, the idea of him using your clothes to get off certainly isn't helping your case.
But doesn't mean he's forgiven just yet.
Your hips move along his length, your wetness coating the top of his cock. Your hands rest on his chest, occasionally tangling in his purple locks, fingers brushing the soft fur of his ears.
"Mmm, fuck. Y'really gonna do me like this, baby" he asks, hands cradling your hips as you rock against his length. Each movement heightened tenfold as a side effect of the heat pulsing through him.
All you can do is moan, eyes closing, and hips cramping at the feeling. But you never let your pace falter. Each time your hips move against him, it pulls something out of him, a raw, primal energy that you didn't notice before. Your head moves to his neck, planting small kisses on the fur of his ear, and laughing when his body shrinks away from you. You get too comfortable on top of him, your body lost in the feeling of his cock rubbing against your clit. Each movement sending spikes of pleasure straight through your body.
That is, until your bodies flipped over. Hands trapped underneath his, legs nudged open with his knee.
"Coulda sworn I was the one in heat, pretty," he says, biting on the shell of your ear. His lips hover over yours before he pulls away. He moves off the bed and leaves you there, legs spread and dumbfounded at whatever just happened.
"What-"
"You're still wet" he says, throwing the towel in your direction, snickering when it hits you in the face. You tug the material off of you, dripping in more ways than one.
"Shinso, you know you're not a real fucking cat, right?"
Shoto Todoroki - White Tiger!
Shoto was handling this whole hybrid thing pretty well, and honestly, if he didn’t have the white tail and small ears on the top of his head, you probably wouldn’t even be able to tell.
Probably. But you know him better than that.
And at first, things probably were working fine for him. Until his instincts forced him into a more… primal way of being.
Shoto started lingering, and not in the usual way. It felt like you were being watched, analyzed, like he was taking in your every movement and anticipating what to do next.
"..Sho? Shoto?" you ask, his eyes dazed over like he doesn't even realize you're talking to him. Your hands trail over his face, then through his hair, fingers skimming the white fur on his ears. "Something wrong?" you smile, giving his hair a nice ruffle before planting a kiss on his nose.
"…Nothing," he says, before he's walking away and shutting the bathroom door behind him. Leaving you no room to question it. And you wouldn't have, if you didn't see the bulge peeking through the crotch of his pants.
It kept happening for a while, his body just close enough to his not to touch. He'd trail behind you from room to room, never touching you, just close enough that you could feel him there. Even going as far as to watch you drink a glass of water, slurping on a cold drink, eyes shut as you savour the taste.
You look over at him, swallowing slowly under his watchful eyes.
"Shoto, do you need something?"
"…No," He says, already making his way to the bathroom.
And this time, you decide to follow him.
"Sho?"
"…Yes?"
"I can help you, you know."
After a beat of silence, the lock clicks. The door opens to reveal your boyfriend, clad in nothing but his underwear and the added effects of the quirk. His hands cup his groin, almost like he's embarrassed that he's even hard in the first place. You approach him slowly, bi-coloured eyes boring into yours as you get closer.
When you two end up face to face, you press a gentle kiss to the side of his face, trailing them down until they meet his lips. Slowly, you pepper kisses down to the waistband of his boxers, pulling at them slightly with your teeth.
"This okay?" you ask, hands pumping his length. He gives you a small nod, and that's all you need to get to work. You lick a long stripe from the base to his tip, the salty taste of precum simmering into your taste buds.
Your eyes are glued on his as you take him into your mouth, tears threatening to spill from your waterline. You splutter around his cock, throat and eyes burning as he reaches the back of your throat. You feel his fingers trail into your hair, tugging at the roots to guide your head along his cock. You moan as he moves your head along him, the vibrations sent straight through his body.
"F-fuck, 'm sorry. C-Can't help it," he whines, head hitting the glass behind him as he throws his head back. He brings a foot to rest on the toilet seat, the new stance allowing him to reach depths he hasn't discovered yet. He can barely look at you, feelings of shame and guilt clouding his mind.
But he can't help himself, and it makes him feel guilty. Tail moving on overdrive and his ears twitching as you bury himself on his cock.
"'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry…" he mutters, over and over again. As if the more he says it, the more he'll start to believe it's true. But in reality, he's addicted to this. To you. The feeling of your mouth wrapped so tightly around his cock, teeth grazing just enough that it hurts so fucking good. It's warm and wet.
His hips move faster as he nears his climax, holding you there for a few seconds before you splutter around his cock and tap on his thigh. When you pull away, your face covered in a mix of drool and tears, hair dishevelled and a soft, dazed smile. With the way he looks at you, you would've thought he just broke his favourite toy. Caressing your face with such gentleness, the moment the two of you just had wouldn't even seem real.
But of course, the aching in your throat says otherwise.
"Sorry, angel. J-just couldn't help myself, you look so pretty," he says, rubbing a thumb along your jawline. You smile before planting a small kiss on his hand, nuzzling into the hand that held you so gently. It's a kiss of reassurance more than anything, a silent promise that this is okay. And even though he's still hesitant, it's good enough for him. Good enough that some of the tension in his shoulder moves elsewhere throughout his body, all energy channelled into his cock.
But you're right where you want to be, aren't you?
ok but kirishima has like a biting kink ok wince he loves how his shark teeth marks look on your skin and you get him a muzzle because you thought it would be funny and when it becomes leas of a joke hes whining and trying to convince you to take it off since he needs to mark you to cum and hes just ao pathetic ok bye. 👀
👀anon
IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER AGHHH
kiri’s biting kink was a given with his teeth. the patterns they left in your skin left for everyone to see, turned him on sooo much.
when you came home with a muzzle, you both laughed at the thought of him wearing it and by the end of the night, only you were laughing when you made him put it on.
“do i really have to keep this on?” he whines, sitting on the bed as you clipped it onto him.
“pleasssee baby, just for tonight,” you beg. “plus, you always bite me way too much”
he pouts, giving you his big red puppy eyes.
“i thought you liked when i bit you,” he frowned.
his frown immediately disappeared as you got down on your knees and unbuckled his pants. he moaned and his head tilted back as you took him in your hands, pumping his dick a few times.
“you’re already hard for me,” you tease. “you must really like that muzzle,”
he pouts at your taunting. you lean forward and lick his tip. he groans, his dick twitching in your hand
“fuck, baby. can we skip this part, please? i want to be inside you so bad,” he breathed.
you smiled. “only because you said please,”
…
he was laying on his back, propping himself up on his arms and you straddled him. you lined him up with your entrance. he whimpered as his tip pushed into you. his hands flew to your hips and digging in as you slowly sank down on him.
you stared at his face as you began to move. his eyes rolled back with every movement, his sharp teeth biting his you leant down to nuzzle his neck, planting soft kisses on his neck .
“f-fuck,” he choked out.
his hand weaved into your hair while his other massaged your back, pushing your body into his. his hips bucked into you slowly, pulling soft gasps from your lips.
his groans grew louder and more frustrated as he fucked into you. you were barely doing any work anymore with his hands holding your hips up. you pulled back from his neck and his exsaperated crimson eyes locked onto yours.
“take this stupid thing off, baby, please.” he begs with his hips still moving into yours. “i cant do this anymore, i can’t cum until i mark you.”
“just a little..mgh..more,” you pant.
he lets out a pathetic whine.
“please, i need to cum so so bad.. i’ll do anything, please just take this muzzle off me,” he cries.
you sit up, putting all your weight on his hips, forcing him to lay flat on the bed. his deep red eyes shone with hope that you might let him finally mark you but furrowed in pleasured disappointment as you started to ride him fast and hard.
“i’m gonna make you cum,” you breathe. “fuck marking me, you’re mine just as much as i’m yours,”
the moans that leave his mouth are pornographic. his eyes roll back into his head and his back arches off the bed, his quirk activating on his arms as he grips the sheets.
“come on baby, cum for me. you wanna feel good, don’t you?” you purr.
“i, fuck, i just want-hngh- you to feel good-ghuh,” he cries.
you hum in approval, moanig as his dick hits that spot inside you.
“kiri, i’m gonna cum,” you rasped.
your hips start to slow down, kirishima’s hands coming up to hold you up. he starts fucking up into you again, keeping the pace you set. you let yourself relax on his chest as you let out a string of moans while he fucks you in that spot you like. his moans mix with yours as a heat in his stomach builds to an overwhelming level.
you can feel your own heat growing fast as his dick slams into you. you lift a weak hand and unlatch the muzzle on kirishima’s face. he wastes no time yanking it off and biting straight into the flesh of your shoulder. he thrusts into you one last time, his cum spilling into you, the pain and his cum pushing you over the edge with a loud whimper. you clench around him, making him moan into your shoulder.
his teeth give your shoulder mercy as his mouth clashes with yours. you can taste a hint of blood on his lips.
a/n
sorry if this is ass i tried to make it make sense but i think i mixed up the tenses whatever if u like it hit like but who cares if u like it im living my truth yes thats a reference
Watch at your own risk. Clips are not mine. No warnings.
Namjoon: even if you’re riding him, he’s always in control. He loves it, but he needs to make sure you know who’s boss. His hand gripping your thigh and ass tight to lift you up and slam you back down on his thick cock just how he wants you and just how he knows you like it,
Jin: the eldest one may surprise you the most, enjoying submitting to you every once in a while when he wants a change. He loves being tied up and under your control, writhing in his restraints as you overstimulate him with your vibrator that he normally uses on you.
Yoongi: the king of tease. He will have you spread on his lap to graze your pussy with his fingers but not give you the pressure you need. You’ll be whimpering and begging. Desperately grinding against him while he doesn’t pay any mind, continuing his games until you’re soaked.
Hoseok: subby boy Hobi with a secret cock piercing enjoys having toys used on him. He cries out like he can’t take it anymore after he cums but really, when he’s shaking and overstimulated, it’s his favorite part. He can do it over and over again.
Jimin: gets hard as fuck when you grind on his face, his perfectly sized cock standing at attention. You bend down and slip it down your throat. The thrusts of your hips making it easy to slip him in and out of your bobbing mouth.
Tae: you love his long and beautiful fingers. They know just how to curve inside of you, and you let him use them wherever and whenever. He’s not afraid to spread you open and get you off in the most risky of places. Making you make a mess when he curved them up against your g-spot, making you gush.
Jungkook: he can’t wait to get you home after the club, ripping your tights straight off of you, starving. You already knew it was pointless to wear panties. This is how every night with him ended. He couldn’t get enough of you, and his tongue never disappointed.
“Yo, I got the goods.” Wooyoung said, holding up the convenience store grocery bag high in the air.
“They had the chips I wanted?” You asked, reaching out your hand and flexing your fingers impatiently for the bag.
“Yep, and your drink. You owe me $6 by the way.” He said, dumping the remainder of the contents in the bag onto your coffee table.
“I’ll buy you a burger or something next week.”
“Deal.” He said, sitting next to you on the couch and kicking his feet up. You skimmed over the snack stash, trying to find anything in his snack choices you wanted to steal a bite of and your eyes landed on a candy bar you had never seen before. The packaging was different, and the brand name was one you couldn’t recognize.
“What is that?” You asked him, pointing to it.
“It’s chocolate. The cashier guy told me it’s something called an aphrodisiac candy bar? The dude was trying to upsell me really hard. I think he was trying to get rid of his inventory of it. They only have it behind the register so, I bought it.” He shrugged and picked it up, reading the ingredients list printed on the back.
“Aphrodisiac? You mean, it’s supposed to make you horny? Why the fuck would you buy that and bring it over here?” You smacked him on the arm and made him wince.
“Ouch! Damn, chill. That shit is all fake. There’s just good-ole sugar and fat in this. I just felt bad for the dude and bought it. You know I go there every single week before our movie nights. I got a soft spot for the old guy!” Wooyoung did his best to plea his case which you truthfully believed. And, to be fair, he was being honest. “It’s just a regular chocolate bar with some fake gimmick to make you pay like $10 for it.”
“You paid $10 for this thing?!”
“I told you I felt bad for the dude!” He groaned, unwrapping the paper around the candy and breaking the bar in half, handing you one of the two pieces. “Here, just help me eat this thing and turn on the movie.”
“Are you sure?” You said, still a bit wary and he groaned in irritation.
“Eat it or don’t. I’m starting the movie.” Wooyoung told you, taking a large bite out of his side and pressing ‘play.’ You shrugged and did the same, enjoying each bite and focusing on the film.
——————————————
The movie you chose was one you both had watched a million times over. You both made commentary about the movie like you usually did and just enjoyed each other’s company.
Midway through the film the two main characters started having sex in a scene you’d both watched multiple times before. However, something felt different this time. You felt yourself start to tingle a get a tiny bit wet as the scene got more and more heated, the feeling intensifying as the scene continued. It did not take long until you found yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat, completely soaked and throbbing.
‘Oh my god, the chocolate.’
“I uh, gotta go to the bathroom.” You said, slightly panicked and too afraid to look over at Wooyoung. You stood up and b-lined to the restroom, locking the door behind you.
You pulled down your sweatpants and panties and examined yourself. You gasped softly out loud, taken aback by how puffy and engorged your labia and clit looked. Your pussy soaking wet, leaving a trail of arousal on your panties. Thanks to your thick sweats, that was easy to hide. What wasn’t, was your hard and engorged nipples that were now peeking straight through your pajama camisole.
“Dammit.” You whispered to yourself, using your fingers to try and push the hard nubs down into themselves over the shirt. However, instead, the stimulation only made the situation worse. You felt a bolt of electricity shoot straight to your clit, making it pulse. Your knees buckled and you had to find it deep inside to pull your hands away from your chest and not continue. If you were in here too long, Wooyoung may know something was up.
You quickly pulled your pants back up and straightened yourself, making sure you looked as normal as possible. Quickly splashing some cold water on your face and neck in a weak attempt to bring your temperature down. You took a deep breath before going back out, not realizing Wooyoung was having a crisis of his own.
“God, what the fuck?” He hissed to himself when you had closed the bathroom door behind you. He uncrossed his legs he was squeezing together uncomfortably hard in a desperate attempt to hide his growing, uncontrollable, erection. His sizable length pressed up through his pants as if it was fighting to get out. He adjusted himself a bit, tucking himself into the waistband of his boxers which helped a little bit but didn’t help the throbbing desire that wouldn’t subside.
Wooyoung knew he was in trouble. He really didn’t think that fucking chocolate bar was legit. How could a chocolate bar make you horny? And to this extent? All he had to do was make it through the movie and get home to jerk off and everything would be fine. He repositioned himself on the couch to try and look casual when he heard you come out of the bathroom. He refused to look away from the tv, not wanting to risk giving himself away by looking guilty.
You sat back down next to him and swore you could hear how wet you were when settled into the cushion. Both of you were face forward, eyes to the tv, trying to ignore the throbbing between each of your thighs. Every once in a while you would shift around, making Wooyoung’s eyes shift over in your direction. He noticed you were bouncing your leg anxiously and biting the inside of your cheek.
“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned.
“Huh? Oh! Um, yeah. I’m great.” You answered a bit too chipper, making his eyebrow raise in curiosity. He wanted to pry but wasn’t in a position to entertain any banter at the moment so he let it go. You found his reaction, or lack-there-of, strange. Normally any time Wooyoung spoke to you it was to make fun of you or give you a hard time. You peered over at him and saw his knuckles white with how hard he was clenching his fists, jaw tight. Completely tense.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you asking me that?” He snapped, sounding annoyed.
“Damn, sorry I asked.” You rolled your eyes. “Asshole.”
“You’re talking through the whole movie and I’m the asshole?”
“We’ve seen this movie 100 times what does it fucking matter?” You whipped your head towards him in anger. “And you’re one to talk. You normally never shut the hell up.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe I want to shut the hell up tonight. Is that okay with you?”
“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. Now horny and annoyed. “By the way, you spilled your drink or something on you. You have a stain.”
“What?” Wooyoung looked down and saw a quarter-size spot of wetness on his crotch which made him stand up in a panic, not thinking about what his seated position was helping him conceal. When he stood up it was very clear to you that the wet spot was not one made from a drink and that he was very, VERY, hard. “Shit- um, sorry-“
“Oh.” Was all you could manage to say, realizing he was in the same predicament as you were.
Wooyoung sat back down with his cheeks burning red. He pushed his hair back with one hand and nervously cleared his throat before finally speaking.
“I uh, guess the chocolate kinda works.”
“Yeah, it kinda does.” You admitted shyly. He looked over at you and laughed a little.
“Wait, it worked for you too?”
“Yeah, I’m kinda going insane right now.” You huffed. You both sat in silence for a second not knowing what to say and then, you smacked his arm.
“Ouch! What the fuck?” He yelled, grabbing his arm.
“You’re such an idiot for buying this shit!” You groaned.
“You didn’t have to eat it!”
“Yeah, but I did because YOU told me it wouldn’t work and now here we are.”
“Well..” he sighed. “Do you have anyone you can text to come over? Take care of business?”
“No.” You scoffed. “I don’t have a roster like you.”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “Half my roster has me blocked at this point. So it looks like we’re both equally fucked. And not in the way we need.”
“So now what?”
“I guess.. we have to masturbate?” He shrugged.
“I guess so.”
Wooyoung suddenly started pulling his pants off of himself which made you panic, frantically waving your hands in front of him.
“What are you doing?!”
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing? Did we not just say we were going to masturbate?” He sounded as equally shocked.
“I didn’t think you meant TOGETHER?”
“I mean, at this point why not? We both know we’re horny as fuck. Might as well just get this over with real quick. I don’t want to drive all the way home to jerk off. It’s too early.” He argued. “Plus, we’ve been friends for how long? This shouldn’t be a big deal at all. We’ve made out while drunk this is literally, like, the next step.”
You thought for a while about his proposition and it didn’t take too long to come to a consensus that he was correct. Of course, the throbbing in your panties definitely influenced your quick decision. You were too horny and too desperate to get off at this point to care about potential awkwardness. You just really wanted to get off.
“Okay. But we never talk about this again. Got it?” You said, hissing through your teeth to sound serious.
“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Can we jerk off now?” He asked. You nodded and Wooyoung proceeded in taking off his pants and boxers with one swift movement, his large cock springing out of his pants instantly. It was almost purple from how hard it was, head leaking precum down the shaft. Wooyoung winced from the cool air in your apartment hitting his warm sensitive skin. He also lifted his shirt off over his head, tossing it onto the floor.
You had seen your best friend shirtless but, never naked below the belt. Your eyes almost bulging from your head when you took in the sheer size of him.
“Well, are you going to get naked too or are you going to just sit there and stare at my cock like a weirdo?”
“Oh, um-“ you stuttered, shaking your head for a moment then stripped down naked yourself. Your swollen breasts and hard nipples were the first thing Wooyoung noticed, followed by your puffy and engorged pussy.
“Holy shit, I think I just saw your pussy throb.” He gasped, almost drooling. He was completely enticed by how it looked. Soaking wet and delicate.
“Shut up.” You mumbled. “Can we get this over with?”
Wooyoung nodded and took a deep breath, taking his hand and shamelessly wrapping it around his cock. He sucked in a harsh breath when he made contact with his sensitive appendage, then slowly started to move his fist up and down. You watched him as he did this, wondering how he made such an awkward situation so hot.
“Don’t make me do this alone.” Wooyoung said, his voice husky and deep. You swallowed deeply and then hesitantly brought your hands to your chest and started to massage your breasts. You took your soft mounds in your hands and squeezed them gently, feeling how much fuller they felt than normal, then used your fingertips to rub circles around your almost painfully hard nipples. They were so sensitive to the touch that an involuntary whimper slipped through your lips.
“Sorry!” You gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth in shock. You typically thought playing with your nipples felt good but never that good. Not good enough to make you moan.
“God, don’t apologize.” Wooyoung groaned, his hand slightly moving faster. “It’s.. it’s hot.”
You felt your cheeks get warm at your best friend’s confession. Before you lost your nerve, you continued, bringing your fingers back to your nipples and pulling at them lightly. The sensation making you rotate your hips as you yearned for more relief down below. While keeping one hand focusing on your nipples, you brought the other down between your thighs. Your fingers were coated instantly with a shocking amount of wetness that made it effortlessly easy to rub circles around your swollen clit.
“Fuck..” you whimpered, hips bucking up into your hands, pressing into it hard. You peered over at Wooyoung and found him watching you play with your pussy, eyes following every circle your fingers rubbed into yourself. His hand now jerking himself off furiously, precum dripping down his swollen cock head and his breath coming out in jagged, broken, huffs. You already felt close to release due to the pure erotic nature of the situation. Your hand naturally going faster as you chased your high, your thighs opening up as wide as they could go.
“Holy shit.” Wooyoung groaned, eyes rolling back into his head when he saw you spread out even more. You brought your other hand down from your breast and placed it down between your thighs, pointing two fingers down towards your entrance and teasing it with your fingerings. Your fingers rubbing your clit didn’t stop and only got faster as you raced to your orgasm.
“Oh my god-“ you gasped, your breath catching in your throat. You pushed your fingers into your cunt, only managing to get just the tips into yourself before you started to cum. You pushed your fingers into yourself regardless as your pussy convulsed around them. Your back arched off the couch and head was thrown back in ecstasy while Wooyoung watched in awe. The sight before him making his climax flow over his knuckles as his body jerked in the same release.
You looked over at just the right time to see him release his orgasm. His eyes were glossy and low as he watched you, lip between his teeth that did nothing to keep his grunts inside, and his chest was glossy with sweat that glistened in the dim light. He was fucking beautiful. The veins in his arms bulging as he worked his still-erect cock.
“Fuck, I’m still fucking horny.” Wooyoung groaned. He finally let go of his dick, using his discarded shirt to wipe away his mess. His cock was still rock hard and, to be honest with yourself, you were still throbbing. This chocolate was ruthless.
“Me too.”
Wooyoung bit the inside of his cheek and watched you nervously for a moment, a bit nervous. He looked lost in thought but also like he had something on his mind he was hesitating to share.
“What?” You asked, nervous now.
“What if, just this one time, we.. you know..”
Your heart started to race but you weren’t sure if it was in excitement or anxiety.
“Wooyoung, are you being serious?”
“It’s just this one time. It’s only because of this fucking candy bar. And we never have to talk about it ever again.” He said, his tone almost pleading. “And I just really, REALLY, want to eat your pussy right now.”
“Wooyoung!” You giggled, covering your mouth in shock at your best friend’s lust. You should slap him. Normally you would. But, you had to be honest with yourself. You definitely wanted to fuck him in this moment, too.
“Please. Let’s fuck. PLEAAASE.”
“Just this once.” You told him, grabbing his face in your hands to focus him. “And we never tell anybody about this.”
“Deal.”
Wooyoung kissed you deeply before laying you down on your couch, trailing his lips down to your neck. He would switch from kisses to light nips of his teeth on the soft spots of your throat that raised goosebumps on your skin and went lower and lower, stopping briefly to suck on your still-swollen nipples. His tongue twirled around them like a tease, eliciting soft gasps from your lips. He chucked in satisfaction from your reaction then continued his decent down to where both of you wanted him to be the most.
Wooyoung hoisted your knees to rest on his shoulders and hooked his arms around your thighs, holding you secure to him. Wanting to make sure you couldn’t pull away. He looked up at you, and watched your reaction as he finally lowered his mouth and licked a long lap of his tongue through your engorged folds. When he saw your eyes flutter and roll back into your head, he smirked, before completely diving in and devouring you.
Wooyoung was an expert at eating pussy. You had known he was experienced in bed, having heard of his extensive body count, but never had experienced his skills first hand. You suddenly realized why so many girls had gone crazy after he had moved onto the next.
“Fuck Wooyoung.. what the fuck?” You moaned, looking down at him in complete shock. You found him still watching you. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, sucking on it lightly in-between taking long licks. You reached down and wrapped your hand in his hair, pushing him even deeper into you which made him moan as he lapped at your clit. You grinded your hips against his face, riding it, feeling his tongue, nose, and chin pushed up against you. You both locked eyes as you continued to grind on his face, Wooyoung moaning into you in pleasure as he allowed you to use him how you needed. You felt that familiar pressure build between your thighs once again and you knew it was only a matter of time before you came again.
“Fuck, Woo. I’m- I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered, your hips moving a bit quicker. Wooyoung’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he let you use his mouth, your soaked cunt sliding against his tongue in desperation.
He knew it was time to go in for the kill.
He wrapped his lips around your clit one last time and started to suck on it, his tongue lapping at it simultaneously. Both of the stimulations sending you over the edge, screaming as you came. Your knees locking around Wooyoung’s head in a vice grip while you writhed on the couch.
“Oh my god, stop!” You pushed his head away from you, gasping for air. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Maybe.” He was gasping as well, mouth and chin glistening in your orgasm. “You just tasted so fucking good.”
“Oh my god, shut up.” You felt yourself get shy, but you couldn’t help but smile.
“You fucking loved that. Don’t pretend like you didn’t.” He said, reaching down to help you sit upright.
“Yeah, whatever. You’re pretty good at that.”
“Thanks. Now, do me a favor and ride me.” Wooyoung requested and, after the service he just provided, you were more than willing to oblige. You straddled him, reaching behind you to grab his thick length to line him up to your entrance. You had to ease him in slowly, his girth stretching you as you lowered yourself down onto him. Once he was fully inside of you, you rested your face into the crook of his neck for a while, allowing yourself to adjust to his size.
“Are you alright?” He asked you, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist.
“Yes.” You were a bit breathless. “You’re just.. fuck, Wooyoung. You’re big.” Wooyoung chuckled, his laugh jolting his body inside of you in a way that made your toes curl slightly.
“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.” He whispered in your ear, making goosebumps raise on your arms. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”
‘Baby.’ He hadn’t dared called you that yet. You two were already pushing boundaries as it was having sex as friends but it was clear he was ready to throw all that out the window to ensure you both enjoyed this experience with no restraints. You could do mental somersaults trying to unpack the conflicting feelings you had about all of this but right now, all you wanted to do was focus on how GOOD he felt. And how much you wanted him. You would do all the hard stuff later.
Rolling your hips up and back down onto him, you started to slide yourself up and down his cock. Wooyoung helped you by gripping your ass and pulling you towards him each time you rocked forward and pushing you back down onto him when you rolled back down, making you feel his cock deep inside of you. The way he filled you up made your entire body feel warm, your cheeks burning in pleasure that made your lips tingle.
“Does my cock feel good inside of you?” Wooyoung asked you seductively, his lips pressing a kiss onto your neck while you rode him. You felt shy and didn’t answer, but down below you tightened around him which he noticed.
“I asked you a question, baby.”
“Wooyoung, please-“
“Don’t overthink this.” He told you, kissing down your neck to your shoulder. “Remember, this is to make each other feel good and get each other off. So, don’t feel weird about saying naughty things to me, alright? I like it.”
You nodded and he gripped your ass a bit harder, using one of his hands to smack it sharply on one of your cheeks. You moaned in pleasure, loving the roughness, and started riding him a bit faster.
“Let me ask you again. Does my cock feel good inside of you?”
“Yes, baby.” You said, your voice a whimpering mess. “So fucking good.”
“That’s right. Of course you fucking like it.” He smacked his hand on your ass once again. “Such a good girl.”
You bounced on his cock in desperation, over and over. Each time you landed back down on his thick length a pathetic whimper slipped through your pouted lips that became music to Wooyoung’s ears. He continued to coo filthy words to you, loving how each syllable made you tighten around him even more than you already were.
“Do you like it when I talk dirty to you?” He grunted in your ear, hips bucking up inside of you from below. “Like when I tell you you’re being a good girl for me?”
“Fuck!” You cried out, desperately rolling your hips in a messy and out-of-rhythm pattern as you got closer and closer to an orgasm. “Yes! Fuck, I love it!”
“Yeah? You’re gonna cum all over my cock for me?” He whined into your ear, grabbing your ass and thrusting his hips up into you hard over and over.
“Fuck!” You screamed, throwing your head back as you took him under you. After a few more strokes up inside, you started to cream around his thick cock, your body convulsing almost violently as you came. He wrapped his arms around you in a vice grip and held you against his chest as you orgasmed, feeling your pussy throb around his still-hard cock.
“Good job, baby girl. That’s it. Fuuuuck.” He praised you, loving how your pussy felt when it came around him. When you finally caught your breath, you sat up in his lap.
“I hope you have more in you.” Wooyoung told you, kissing you on your shoulder delicately.
“Fuck yeah I do.” You said, grabbing his hair roughly and pulling him to your mouth in a feverish kiss. He matched your passion quickly, biting your lip and pulling on it between his teeth. You moaned loudly into his mouth before he pushed his tongue into yours. You held each other so close as you made out it was if you would morph into one person. Bodies meshing together into one. Finally, he needed more.
“Get on your knees for me, ass in the air.” He whispered to you seductively, his making chills run down your spine.
You got on your knees and kneeled forward, your face pressed into the couch in the doggy position. Wooyoung positioned himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, rubbing it up and down your folds to collect your arousal on his throbbing head. He pushed into your dripping cunt with ease, your pussy begging to be filled by his cock once again, eagerly forming to his size this time. He slid in all the way, his pelvis meeting your ass as he nestled down inside of you.
“Fuck, Wooyoung… your cock…” you trailed off.
“I know.” He said, and you didn’t have to look back at him to know he had a cocky grin plastered on his face.
He gripped your hips, his fingers pressed into the soft skin of your thighs firmly, and held you in place. Suddenly, he pulled back and snapped himself forward, slamming his cock into your pussy, and repeating the motion over and over. Your mouth fell open and you moaned deeply into the couch, taken aback by the pleasure of the rough thrusts. His motions started out slow but quickly picked up in pace, the sounds of his thrusts becoming quick slapping motions that filled the room, pairing with your moans nicely.
To make it even more intense, Wooyoung reached down and grabbed your arms, pinning them behind your back and using them to help him thrust into you. The new position made you completely vulnerable to him and left you in his control, submitted.
“You’re taking me so well.” He grunted as he continued to fuck roughly into your throbbing cunt. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”
“Please fuck me harder!” You begged him, wanting even more. “I want more. Give me more daddy.” The filthy pet-name slipping out without a second thought.
“Daddy, huh?” Wooyoung smirked in surprise, not realizing how dirty his best friend could get. “You want daddy to give it to you harder?”
He leaned down over you and pinned your stomach down against the cushions, using his hand to grip the back of your neck and push you down into the plush couch. You couldn’t move, Wooyoung’s body weight holding you down as he thrusted into you ruthlessly. Your pussy contracting around his thick cock as it effortlessly slid in and out, your arousal making a mess on the cotton of the cushions.
“Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” He said in-between thrusts. “To be fucked into the couch?”
“Fuck-yes! Yes, daddy!” You cried in pure satisfaction.
“You’re going to cum on daddy’s cock again?”
“Yes! Please, please, please-“
Wooyoung suddenly stopped and pulled out of you, his weight releasing your body. You turned confused, afraid you had done something to offend him. Wooyoung however was not offended. Instead, determined to change things up. He grabbed your legs and flipped you onto your back, gripping onto your knees and pressing them back onto your chest.
“I want to look at you while you cum.” He told you, slipping his cock back inside. He placed his forehead against yours and looked at you deep in your eyes while he dragged deep stroked in and out of you. His long cock pulled pornographic whimpers from your throat that shocked even yourself, not knowing you could make such erotic noises. You couldn’t help it. You didn’t know at this point if it was the chocolate or just simply Wooyoung but you had never been fucked like this before. Never felt this amazing before.
“Woo, it feels so good..” you said, sounding almost as if you could cry. Your thighs you had wrapped around his waist started to tremble and Wooyoung was closing in on his climax as well.
“You feel fucking amazing.” He told you, slamming into you a bit harder but keeping his strokes precise. “I want you to cum with me. I’m almost there, baby.”
He placed his thumb on your swollen clit and started to rub quick circles that made your eyes flutter and lets clamp around him. It was only a matter of time now. He could feel you pulse around his cock as your walls tightened around him.
“Fuck baby, I can feel how close you are. Are you gonna cum?” He whimpered to you, his cocky demeanor now softening as he got closer to his own release. “Come on baby, cum with me. Give it to me. I need to feel it. Please.”
His whining and his thumb on your clit sent you into your final climax, your orgasm gushing out of you and onto his cock. Wooyoung came as you convulsed around his thick length, squirting around him in spectacular fashion.
“Holy shit- fuck!” He cursed loudly, slamming into you a few times as he emptied into you. Your body shuttering as your orgasm subsided, completely spent. Wooyoung pulled out of you gently and went to find a towel to clean both of you up. You laid there for a moment out of breath, coming to terms with what you two had just done together.
“I didn’t know you could squirt.” Wooyoung said in shock.
“Sometimes.” You shrugged. “It doesn’t happen that much.”
“Of course I could get you to do it.” He smirked, proud of himself. You rolled your eyes and snatched the towel from out of his hand to wipe yourself of sweat and other liquids.
“Did you at least enjoy it?” Wooyoung asked you, suddenly sounding serious.
“What?”
“I mean, do you regret it?” He shrugged. “Are you okay with what happened?”
“Oh.” You felt shocked and thought about it for a moment. “Actually.. I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Really?!” He said, a huge smile spreading across his face.
“Do NOT let that go to your head. But, yes.” You sighed. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Fuck yeah. I didn’t know you could fuck like that.”
You smacked him on the arm which made him laugh.
Both of you cleaned up and got dressed. You decided to take a trip across the street to the convenience store where Wooyoung had gone before he had come over for more snacks.
The moment you both got up to the counter, the old man at the register smiled at you with a knowing look. You felt your cheeks get hot, remembering he was the one who sold Wooyoung the chocolate bar.
“Anything else for you two?”
Wooyoung looked over at you and you looked at him. There was a long pause and, without even speaking, a silent decision was made.
“Can we get two more of those special chocolate bars, please?”
——————————————
Can you tell writing bestie Wooyoung is my favorite? I hope yall enjoyed!
pairing﹢jung wooyoung x fem!reader x ateez
genre﹢smut. uni!au, free use, overstimulation, degradation, possessive + obsessive tendencies, praising, usage of pet names (baby, angel, princess, pretty, good girl), biting and marking, public/semi-public places, threesomes (woosan/woosang/???), unprotected sex, a lot of creampie and aftercare. throat fucking + being tied up (hongjoong), cunnilingus + mirror sex (seonghwa), oral fixation + choking (yunho), cunnilingus + vanilla (yeosang), shower + soft/rough sex (san), cockwarming + blowjob (mingi), rough sex + aftercare (jongho). breeding + degradation/praising + talking about pregnancy + blowjob (wooyoung).
synopsis﹢the cheerleader they all pass around, and the girl who somehow ends up cooling down certain players. the pirates are the stars of the team, who use you after practice, after games, in the locker room, everywhere when nobody’s looking… seven days a week, where every man makes his own fantasy come true.
word count﹢11,5k
you always knew WOOYOUNG was trouble. someone you could easily walk away from, until every step felt like it dragged you closer, like gravity had a new definition just for him. campus knew it too, by the way everybody whispered about a certain cheerleader who walked a little straighter when he passed by, whose cheeks flushed faster than a freshly picked strawberry whenever he looked at her.
it started in the most mundane of ways, because that cheerleader was you. pom-poms clutched tight, the roar of the stadium filling your ears, and he jogged by after warm-ups, sweat clinging to his shirt, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes scanning the field, and somehow, he found you. maybe it was the way you moved, or the adorable way you laughed with your team, or maybe he just decided, without asking, that you belonged to him.
he didn’t corner you that first time. all he did was throw you a glance, his signature charming smile while tilting his head, and your heart betrayed you. he was asking a stupid question about drills, and suddenly, your hands were shaking, your lips barely catching his words. your mind screamed, don’t you dare fall for him, but your body had other ideas.
from there, it became almost ritualistic. subtle touches that lingered too long, casual brushes that left goosebumps on your skin. everyone saw how he took an interest in you, yes, but they didn’t know a thing: this was a game played in hardcore mode, which meant he takes his sweet time preparing for the good stuff. he was possessive, demanding, but never cruel, just persistent and testing the lines you hadn’t realised existed. you became his, not by force, but by consent of your own rational mind that tried to protest and protect you. don’t give in, you told yourself, but you always like to play with fire.
wooyoung was careful at first, a dream boyfriend. guiding your hands, tilting your head to peck your cheeks or lips that tasted like cherry, planning dates and spoiling you rotten. the way he looked at you from the locker room as you and the other girls walked by, or how he nudged you onto his lap during practice breaks, giving you his jersey so you could proudly show off that you are taken and off-limits. however, careful turned to teasing, teasing to demanding, and soon enough, you weren’t just his girlfriend — you became his pretty doll. something beautiful, delicate, to be shown, used, and adored.
evenings with him were cinematic, like you were living in a drama, because something like this couldn’t happen just like that. he would corner you in empty classrooms or on dimly lit hallway, whispering the things he would do to you because you kept wearing that short skirt all day, ass bouncing with your every movement and… keep wearing crop tops like that, you will see how he will top you instead. when he pressed you against a wall, hand on your hip, as he whispered in your ear.
“you walked across campus like that,” your boyfriend was pissed to say at least, eyes dragging over you, “with every guy staring right at you… and you didn’t even look back at me once.”
you open your mouth, but he cuts you off with a soft click of his tongue.
“no,” he says, the grip he had on your hip tightening and that made your stomach twist, “don’t even try to explain, angel. you knew what you were doing.”
shaky and nervous breath leaves past your lips because his touch isn’t where you expect it: he never gives what you think you want first.
“look at you,” your fingers clutch his shirt, pulling him closer without meaning to, as he laughs under his breath, leaning in until your forehead pressed against his shoulder. “walking around in that tiny top, that little skirt…”
his voice drops, almost mocking you, when his knuckles skim your thigh, “you keep wearing that uniform like this, and see if i don’t end up pinning you to the nearest surface next time. classroom, hallway, locker room… i don’t care.”
“woo…” your breath catches, a desperate sound you can’t swallow down, and he chuckles at your every reaction. his hand finally slips beneath the hem of your skirt and the safety shorts that kept nothing safe from him, or the hungry stares of every boy in the whole damn university. fingertips trace slow patterns against your clit, pressing and playing with your bud, opening you wide enough to make you moan, but do nothing about to soothe your throbbing cunt that aches for his touch.
“yeah, baby. say my name like that...” he smiles against your skin, licking your neck while kissing and biting it, “you want more?” he asks, voice so sweet and cruel, when he pushes one finger inside that gets you all worked up, and gosh you are so wet it just makes it easier for him.
despite him being rough and edging you to the max by suddenly pulling his finger out of your cunt and kissing your cheeks, leaving you all flushed and confused, there were tender moments. he checks your shoulder after rough dance moves after your practice, makes sure you are eating by preparing you homemade food, reminds you to drink water, tells you to rest, even as he whispers, you are mine.
the contrast made you so dizzy and confused, because the boy who could destroy you in a few seconds also made sure you were okay, and that was part of the thrill. the guilt and pleasure blended into one, a cocktail you couldn’t resist sipping, again and again. for some reason, being with wooyoung felt like heaven and hell at once.
and hell being when the closest of his friends, the ones that he trusted with his heart and calls his brothers, were allowed to play too. it felt like betrayal, like you were selling both your body and soul to someone else. sometimes they were gentle, sometimes rough, but when their touches were sanctioned, when wooyoung watched, sometimes joining in, the guilt morphed into something addictive. the excitement of being played with, looked at, used, made you want even more.
you were fully present and knew what you were doing, but the pleasure you received from each of the eight men was your little guilty secret. everyone knew you were wooyoung’s girl, only for you to become a cute little plaything, pretty and desperate for the next day, because the lines between ownership and affection blurred.
because he brags about having the prettiest and most adorable girl, and the team teases him about it. besides he still hands you out to them each day… because he loves watching you run back to him after every man ruins you in their own way.
the cheerleader they all pass around, and the girl who somehow ends up cooling down certain players. the pirates are the stars of the team, who use you after practice, after games, in the locker room, on the field when nobody’s looking… seven days a week, where every man makes his own fantasy come true. as for your boyfriend, he gets you whenever he wants — between days, before matches, after matches, whenever he snaps his fingers, they all know to be patient and wait.
soon it became a routine after the first two weeks of getting to know each player more intensely, and wooyoung even made a whole schedule. the calendar in his phone is marked with the names of those who will have you on that specific day.
HONGJOONG AS THE NO MORE MR. NICE GUY
as the team captain, he gets to try out first, more so, when monday comes, he sets the pace for the rest of the week. initially was against the idea or even joining in general, because why would he sleep with his teammate’s girlfriend even if it was voluntary?
hongjoong had nothing against you of course. in his eyes, you were so innocent and sweet, but you turned out to be totally the opposite. he understands why wooyoung liked you; nevertheless, why he immediately took the chance to be with you. you are a good girl, obedient and good-natured, but unlike you, your boyfriend is not.
that's why he was setting an example to be careful through you. let's not mention when wooyoung was more or less to blame for one of their losses, not that he wanted it, he was just not in shape... he could have been if he hadn't skipped practice to be with you and do whatever, or smelling a little bit of weed after hanging out with yeonjun and soobin from the basketball team.
and believe him, he doesn't want to hurt you, but he has to. the captain doesn’t fuck you when he calls you into the empty room: he ruins you with control by tying your wrists behind your back, sits you on your knees between his legs, and makes you earn even a lick of his cock.
locking the door, even putting do not disturb sign, because everyone knows not to interrupt him when he thinks of tactics or formations for the next game. with you still kneeling in front of him, he watches old game tapes, using your throat as stress relief. hooking his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.
“you listen well, don’t you?” you nod slowly, his thumb brushes your lower lip to make you relax to a certain amount. “use your words, angel.”
“yes… captain.”
he fucks your face nice and slowly, hand in your hair to monitor your movements, murmuring, “knows not to use teeth, hmm…good girl.” so good that he cums in your mouth, making you swallow it all. until the salty tears mix with the taste of his cum, and you smile through your teeth, all dirty until it drips from your chin onto your crop top, on the ground. aren’t you the prettiest dirty little secret the team could keep?
sometimes calls you over with two fingers. you are waiting for him to finish whatever he’s doing before he decides what he wants with you. he could take you in the back of his car. he’s thought about it, you’ve thought about it but he wasn’t in the mood for that. so he takes you to his apartment, with you dry-humping him on the couch while he fingers you slowly, his silver rings stay on as the cold metal against your warm skin sends little shivers through you.
“wooyoung’s been slacking lately, hasn’t he?” he watches your face carefully when he says it. rubbing yourself on his legs, face shying away from his. he likes hearing your voice when you defend your boyfriend, seeing the conflict flicker behind your eyes. “think you could tell him to do better?”
he doesn’t let you cum until he decides you’ve earned it. every desperate roll of your hips is noted, and he teases you more. his rings graze your most sensitive spots as he toys with your clit, the sensation almost too much for you to handle.
grinding against him while his hands roam, guiding you until you’re shaking uncontrollably. your moans are soft, needy, and he encourages them just enough to push you closer to the edge, then pulls back, making you whimper and drool in frustration.
whispers filthy little reminders in your ear, “keep your boyfriend in check. tell him to stop slacking… you know it’s your job, and mine too.”
your hips jerk against his leg, begging silently as he denies your release again and again, each denial making you cry louder to the judgment served to you, and not to the one who deserves it.
he presses his face into your neck, low grunts vibrating against your skin, marking you in his own way. when he finally lets you cum, it’s all-consuming, leaving you trembling in his lap, eyes rolling, and he watches every second, satisfied with the control he has over you with just his words.
and when you leave his place, you always look composed, but your head is spinning, and wooyoung can tell immediately that hongjoong got under your skin again.
SEONGHWA KNOWS YOU INSIDE AND OUT
truly a gentleman. he takes care of you, never rushes you, or starts without easing you into it first. makes sure you’re relaxed, not carrying the weight of the week on your shoulders. also loves teasing and praising you with his words almost as much as he loves tasting you. every flick of his tongue, every wet slide in and out comes with a low murmur against your core.
tuesdays are his. he has a key to one of the quieter training rooms, always locks the door behind you. he stretches you out on the table, lifts your legs over his shoulders without warning, pushing your hips back toward him, still holding your pom-poms, as he eats you out like he’s slowly unwrapping his christmas gift: slow licks, tongue teasing, hands holding your thighs open.
“princess, you’re so tight…,” he groans, licking and sucking. “you taste amazing… did you save all this for me?” he teases, opening you wider so you won’t squeeze him to death, not that he would mind.
nibbling at your inner thigh between laps of your cunt. seonghwa’s relentless with the words, praising every inch of your body, even the sounds you produce, such an angelic symphony to his ears. his ego is above the sky, knowing that he can make you feel more than good and more than special. he really can't describe how he's never tasted anything sweeter than you in his life; it's addicting.
“god, your pussy’s perfect… can’t believe this is all mine to play with.” he flirts, and it’s filthy, the way he grins while teasing you, making you melt under his gaze, making you feel like you are the only girl in the whole world, “you’re such a good girl, letting me do this.”
every compliment makes your body shake more, dripping just from his mouth and words. grips your hips so hard you will see the handprints first thing when you look in a mirror.
“you like it when i talk to you like this, don’t you? pretty little thing loves to be praised, hm?” he teases, tongue pushing deeper, he mixes praise and filth perfectly, so you’re caught between feeling worshipped and utterly used, as the combination makes you desperate. trembling, gasping, and completely under his control.
by the time he lifts his head, cheeks wet, lips shiny with your slick, you’re shaking and he’s chuckling. extremely satisfied, because he knows exactly what he’s done to you, and he isn’t done yet. spreading you out further because, as a cheerleader, you are so flexible, it’s so much easier.
and then it happens. your walls clench, pussy gushes over his tongue, spurting uncontrollably as your back arches off the surface. the man groans, licking up every drop, chuckling against your skin: “fuck– you’re insane, look at you squirting for me…” he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue, circling and flicking as he finally lets you rest.
absolutely love to use the empty locker room, he sits you on the counter and kisses every bruise the others left, but he leaves you covered in love bites that would peek out from your uniform the next day. then he bends you over the sink and rails you in the mirror.
your body shakes, voice gone from screaming as he tightly holds your face with one hand, to make you look at the reflections and see how well you take him, and you know better than to disobey the sweet man who gives you everything you need. goes a little harder here, but he never loses control as he watches your face more than, memorising everything.
and he always knows when enough is enough.
the moment your strength begins to fade, he slows down, whispering soft praise meant only for you. once he pulls out and finishes on your ass, he cleans you gently with a towel, making sure you’re not that sticky before hitting the showers. afte that, he helps you sit up, puts your clothes on, then gives you water and something sweet from his backpack, pressing a few soft kisses to your skin while you recover.
the eldest takes a simple photo: his hand resting on your hip, sends it to your boyfriend. not bragging, but to remind him that even if all of them use you in their own ways, you deserve to be treated gently.
wooyoung pretends he doesn’t care about what his hyung implies, but the thought lingers in his mind after he locks his phone.
YUNHO IS THE MVP WHO MAKES YOU BEG
much like wooyoung, he is someone who teases and enjoys pulling reactions out of you until you are begging on your knees to get fucked, touched, kissed, anything. he believes nothing good should be handed over too easily. where’s the fun in that? you have to work a little, have patience, and earn it if you're obedient enough. you are a sweet little angel, the princess of dirty wishes and secrets, so beautiful, and at the same time so his... at least for the day.
and he wonders how he can be so damn possessive over someone he is not even dating, but is merely using for his own selfish desires?
wooyoung gets jealous on wednesdays because yunho knows exactly how far he can push your buttons. he’ll have you flustered, breathless, nearly in tears from frustration, and smile like he’s proud of it. you cry in your boyfriend’s arms about how much your body and mind couldn't take the tension, but at the same time, how much you enjoyed it.
and he is big in every single aspect — tall, long-limbed, hands that could crush yet hold you, and yes… the thing in between that barely fits in your hand. the mvp of the team doesn’t intend to break you until your makeup is smudged and your body gives out completely, but he does. he will bend you over his desk once he gets you to his dorm, fuck you until your back is about to break with your cheer skirt hitched up exposing the curve of your ass to the fullest.
“hush, doll… you don’t want other men knockin’ on my door, telling me to keep it down…” his long and slender fingers would be in your mouth, to keep your mouth busy, “yeah? you have such a pretty voice… i'm sorry i'll have to suppress it.”
your soft gagging only makes him twitch harder, watching your lips stretch around his fingers, wetting them with your saliva, eyes watering as he smirks down at you.
carries you to the bed without pulling out, well, he does have to pull out to change the position because now you are lying on your back, knees pressed tightly to your chest, watching you lose it on his cock while his hands hold your entire body in place. there’s something about your reactions, like he’s studying you the same way he studies opponents.
yunho fucks you while holding both your wrists in one hand, keeping you pinned and completely under his control. adores hearing your whimpers, your soft cries of his name as the length of him is perfectly filling you, creating a full bulge across your tummy that makes your toes curl.
“huh… you feel that, doll?” he murmurs, lips just brushing your ear. “so good… think anyone else could take you like this? think they’d even last a minute?”
“please… y-yunho, i can’t–” your voice trembling, one big hand slides down to your throat. he also loves to choke you, seeing your little breaths hitch, enough to make you gasp and beg.
“what was that? come on, doll, i can’t hear you,” he grins down at you, hips rocking imperceptibly at first, just to remind you how big and heavy he is. every time he moves, you receive a teasing squeeze on your neck. you try to speak, oxygen nearly stops because of the pressure, but it comes out as a strangled, high-pitched plea:
“yun… yunho… please, i– i’m gonna…” your words crumble, begging spilling out in the form of incoherent moans and shaky whimpers. pounding into you, each thrust makes every inch of him fill you, making you groan and gasp for air.
“fuck, princess, look at you… can’t even hold your voice. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, cock still hard and very much rearranging your guts, wishing he could take a picture right now and brag to no one but himself about having you like this.
he lets you whine and tremble, making you beg for him to stop until your voice gives out entirely, every moan stolen by his fingers in your mouth or throat. and then, when he finally cums inside you, he stays there, knowing he wrecked you so damn good that you can’t imagine anyone else even touching you for the rest of the week.
YEOSANG CAN BE ROUGH BUT CHOOSES NOT TO BE
he always sees you after you spent the previous day with either yunho, jongho, or san, who made your body sore and you walking funny, sometimes with marks showing under your clothes. it makes him worried every time seeing you like this, even if you hide behind a smile and reassure him it's okay, that you are already used to it.
so he nervously always knocks before entering the room you use on his day, which is thursday, but it really depends on what schedule they made for each week. always asks first, “are you comfortable?” or “do you want to rest instead?” wooyoung actually likes how respectful his best friend is, as he trusts him with you in a way he doesn’t trust the others.
the angel, as he really embodies that nickname, usually starts by carefully laying you down, massaging your thighs and hips while checking for soreness. he presses soft kisses along your stomach, whispering that you look so tired, but so beautiful. he’s quiet, but he’s expressive with his hands.
yeosang never goes rough with you, even though he absolutely could. you know he has strength under all that softness, but he refuses to use it on you. to him, you’re something that needs to be protected from everything he is capable of, and because of that, he is the one wooyoung never worry about.
he spreads your legs so slowly, like your thighs might bruise if he opens them too fast. his fingers are gentle on your skin, as his breath is warm on your inner thigh. then he goes down on you like he was born to do it.
his mouth is the main event; he is so skilled with his tongue and so unbelievably patient. because when he eats you out, he does it until your legs go weak, you’re gripping the sheets, or when you’re softly moaning his name, and tears slip from your eyes. the boy always looks up at you between licks: checking if you’re okay, or if you want more. knows every sensitive spot, every way to make your legs squeeze him tighter and for your hands to tug at his hair if you’re overstimulated. three tugs mean he has to slow down immediately.
“shh… it’s alright, dove. just breathe for me, okay?” because gentleness and tenderness are what he thinks you deserve most.
if he fucks you, it’s vanilla-soft because again, he refuses to hurt you.
lining his flushed cock slowly to your folds, already wet from the way he used his mouth minutes prior, he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, while holding your hand the whole time. sweet angel, holy mother of christ, he is always asking if you are okay, or if you want him to stop or go slower. you want to cry because he is so adorable and good to you, and you always answer the same thing.
his thrusts are steady, never pressing too deep or too far, more so, never pushing you outside the zone of comfort his body offers you. love kissing your shoulder or cheek while doing it, because it makes you open your eyes and realize that you are in fact not dreaming about angels, since one is already with and in you.
and don’t let the gentleness fool you, because he always makes you cum at least twice, sometimes more, although he never pushes you to the edge of pain or exhaustion like the others. his goal is to have you relaxed and at peace, leaving his day smiling, not limping.
your boyfriend pretends to scoff at yeosang’s tender nature. “you treat her like she’s a porcelain doll.” but everyone knows wooyoung appreciates it, because after seonghwa, yeosang is the only one who prevents you from burning out, or being totally worn out and wrecked.
and said boyfriend secretly loves when you come back from a day with the angel because you are relaxed, smelling like coconut body wash, and, surprises surprise, you can walk properly for once. thursday’s the only day of the week when you actually get aftercare during the act, which means the others can keep going hard on their days.
SAN MASKS THE LOVE IN HIS EYES WITH LUST
he is respectful, the kind of man who opens doors, carries your bag, brings you banana milk or shares his sweet treats during practice breaks. but the second he has you alone, every trace of manners disappears as if he were never taught a single one.
when it’s his day, aka friday, usually it’s after practice or a brutal gym session. whenever he’s too in his head and needs a way out.
he doesn’t wait for permission. he hooks his fingers in your waistband, drags you into his lap or against the nearest wall, and kisses you with so much hunger and neediness that he tears your clothes without thinking, mouth hot on your throat, inhaling your scent, like he’s been starving. he stays buried in the crook of your neck until you’re trembling, thighs shaking, overstimulated from nothing but his hands and his breath.
loves the locker room showers. the steam, the echo, the way your moans bounce off the tiles like he’s listening to a melody created for only himself to hear and enjoy. he pins you there, water running over both of you, and devours you like it’s survival instinct: mouth on your neck, chest, hips, thighs, marking everywhere he can reach. when he fucks you in there, it’s loud and so filthy. he grunts, the sound of skin against skin sharp under the water, his hips slamming into you like he’s trying not to cum the second you take all of him.
“hold on for me,” he says, nudging against you. “i’m not gonna last if you make those sounds already.” but then you moan, and his hips snap forward, and you cry out as he growls into your shoulder, biting because he can’t help it.
“fuck– you’re loud today. are you doing this on purpose?” his tone is almost accusing, too breathless to be anything but honest. “driving me crazy, baby.”
his hand slides around your throat, lifting your chin just enough to make you focus on him.
“look at me,” he pants, voice deeper, “i said– look at me while i fuck you.”
he leaves the most hickeys, marking you where he knows wooyoung will see later. you never walk out of his day unmarked. and he loves it when you show up the next morning with them barely hidden, loves seeing his best friend stare at the ones on your collarbone. it’s why the san and wooyoung threesomes get violent: san gets louder, rougher, more possessive because he’s fighting himself and his best friend at the same time. your boyfriend is telling him he’s too slow, too gentle, and san fucking you harder out of spite.
his days are always the messiest because he uses you to empty his head. stress, rage, jealousy, confusion — all of it gets taken out on your body.
most times, he has you from behind, gripping your hair, panting against your ear. he growls when you moan too loud, not because he wants you quiet, it makes him lose control. he finishes inside you and doesn’t stop, keeps fucking you through it, until you’re limp and boneless in his arms.
but he’s also the one who, on some days, becomes unbearably gentle. service top to his core, worshipping every inch of you when he’s scared you will break or disappear like a dream. he’s soft with his hands, slow with his mouth, careful with your body. he kisses you like he’s apologising for things he hasn’t even done yet.
“i’ve been thinking about you all damn day,” he kisses your neck, open-mouthed and desperate. “yeah princess, you miss me too? show me how much you missed me then.”
when he starts thinking about how much he wants you, how much he cares… that’s when he switches off. full dominant, he doesn’t let you rest because resting means thinking, and thinking means remembering how much he likes you, and how much he shouldn’t like you. he hates that wooyoung can see it in the way he touches you when the three of you are spending the night. so he fucks your hard instead, burying the feelings under multiple bruises and orgasms.
he needs you. he won’t say it to anyone or admit it to himself, but he needs you so bad it makes his heart ache for someone he can only touch but not have.
MINGI WHO WILL ACCIDENTALLY EDGE YOU
just like yunho, he is huge when it comes to everything: height, hands, build, dick size. alas he’s also clumsy in the way that makes you crazy, because he doesn’t mean to torture you... he’ll have you trembling, begging, nails digging into his shoulders, your whole body shaking because you’re so close, and then he pulls away shyly, like he just missed hitting the goalie during practice instead of destroying your soul.
his day is saturday, and everyone knows it; wooyoung never worries because mingi never tries to steal you or ask for extra time. he doesn’t want you as his, he just wants to fuck you, pamper you, and fuck you again. no competition for your boyfriend, but a danger to everyone else.
at his house, in his room he always pulls you into his lap, settles you over his cock, and makes you sit there while he opens his laptop for match analysis or whatever the coach dumped on him for the weekend. you’re cockwarming him while he watches someone doing a free kick, your pussy clenching every time he clicks or shifts. his thighs are huge, his build perfect, and when he laughs at someone’s mistake on the footage, his abs tighten, and so do you, which makes him chuckle even harder.
“doing so good f’me, baby… keep still.” however, he’s the one who moves with little thrusts, tiny rolls of his hips, just enough to make you squeeze him, and after thirty minutes when he gets bored, he snaps the laptop shut with one hand, bends you over his desk, and fucks you until the wood shakes under your palms.
speaking of fucking, mingi is so hyper after wins. all that energy, adrenaline, and all that strength nowhere to go except you. he finds you, grabs your hand, and with the brightest grin says, “sorry seonghwa-hyung, you can take her next saturday!” and drags you away before anyone can argue.
the team doesn’t mind. they switch days like trading cards, because when mingi needs you, he needs you.
takes you somewhere private: stairwell, empty classroom, storage room, literally anywhere. panting against your neck, squeezing your waist with big restless hands, too tired to be gentle but too sweet to be rough without warning. you don’t have to say anything, he knows when you’re close by the way your breath changes every second. so he makes you sit on his lap again. one hand slides between your thighs, slender fingers spreading you wider, thumbs pressing into soft flesh while he watches you try to breathe through the frustration he created.
he whispers filth into your ear like he’s narrating a bedtime story: how tight you are, how pretty you sound, how good you are for him. right when you’re about to cum, he pulls his hand away and holds your hips down so you can’t chase your own high.
“not yet, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your shoulder. “wanna hear you scream again.”
he loves making you cum from dirty talk alone. loves watching your face change, your lips part, your eyes get all watery while he whispers exactly how he wants to fuck you. and he whimpers, every damn time. mingi may be the big guy, but he’s also a loser who’s never had a girl like you before. your touch turns him into a trembling and whimpering mess.
when he finally fucks you, its lazy and slow, like he has hours to waste and wants to spend every one buried inside you. praises you nonstop, something from “good girl… fuck, so tight…” to “just a little more, baby, you got it…”
mingi knows he’s big and that you need time to adjust. he waits by holding your thighs open gently, rubbing your hips until your body relaxes enough to take him deeper. and when you finally sink all the way onto him, he looks up at you with the kind of awe that makes your stomach twist and pussy flutter like butterfly wings.
he also likes cumming on you. your ass, stomach, breasts, thighs — anywhere he can see it. when you kneel under his desk, taking him in your mouth, and let him use your throat… he holds your hair, mouth falling open, hips bucking because you’re sucking him like it’s the only job you have. when he spills in your mouth, and it drips down your chin, onto your tits, he moans. not a grunt, but a desperate, high-pitched whimper.
he’s such a pathetic loser about it that he sometimes cums in his pants before you even do anything intimate.
JONGHO JUST TELLS YOU WHAT TO DO, AND YOU DO IT
the youngest of them all, also physically the strongest, has the energy to fuck you for hours, slowly wearing you down until you can’t think or feel any muscle or nerve in your body.
he doesn’t ask or fool around like everyone with mindless teasing. just simply tells you with short commands that are already imprinted in your brain, such as: kneel, turn around, hold still. and you always listen, because there’s something in his voice that makes your whole body go warm and obedient before you can process what you were told, something like a muscle memory.
has insane stamina, the kind of endurance that makes you afraid and excited at the same time. he can fuck you soft or rough, slow or fast, and believe it that he already done it countless times. he's careful of course, observant; he could always be worse, not even giving you time to catch your breath. except maybe the fact that you're not his, and that doesn't allow his conscience and ego to do whatever he wants with you.
on a sunday, a place he usually uses is the physical therapy room, on the massage table, after games or practice when everyone is home, he stays just to do his recovering. you are sitting on the hard mattress, legs open for him and him between them, holding you by the hips, fucking you deep and steady. hitting the same spot each time until you’re trembling and moaning, gasping how you can’t take it anymore, showing him by digging your nails into his back until they leave marks.
“just little bit more, mm? you can handle it.” knows you are sensitive, but proceeds to keep going, cock pushing deeper as the wet and sloppy sounds echo in the empty room.
he’s the only one who never sends wooyoung a photo or update. your boyfriend appreciates that because he doesn’t want to see cum leaking out of you again. jongho is private about you, in the sense that he doesn't want to share what he does to you. you could tell the others if you want, but you don’t. he never asks you to stay quiet; you can be shared, that’s the agreement, but his moments with you aren’t for group discussion.
so your mouth stays shut, but you always tell your boyfriend everything.
another preferred location of his is the gym room he has in his own apartment. picking you up like you weigh nothing, one hand under your thigh, the other behind your back, body heat radiating off him after a workout. your back hits the wall, and he’s already inside you, fucking you while your feet don’t even touch the ground as they are wrapped around his waist.
each thrust drives a desperate sound out of you, your hands clinging to his shoulders because he’s too strong and too much. he always apologizes, “sorry… sorry, pretty, i’m being too rough–”
you always shake your head, squeezing his biceps to reassure him, “don’t stop… please, don’t stop.”
and he listens because jongho fucks in perfect control. the same angle and the same spot every damn time: he knows exactly where it is, and he hits it like he’s built for it. he's so thick, fitting in you completely, even though you're already so stretched from previous days and men. but he moves in such a way that it makes you roll your eyes and see stars.
makes you look at him when you are about to cum, thumb under your chin if he has to, lifting your face so your eyes stay on his. loves finishing inside you, burying himself as deep as possible so you feel full and warm and unable to move for a moment, thick waves of white between where your bodies connect, even some dropping to the floor that he has to clean after.
when he is done and sees you really can’t keep up anymore, it’s aftercare time, the sweetest of anyone. a warm bath with you resting against his toned chest, big hands rubbing your thighs, soft kisses on your shoulder, whispering, “pretty girl, you did so well for me…”
now ready to take a nap, your hair is dry, body wrapped in a hoodie that smells like him, food and water provided for energy, because when he’s rough, he makes sure to give you twice as much softness after.
THOSE SPECIAL DAYS AND THOSE WHO GET MORE . . .
threesomes exist, but only with two specific people. no other combinations are allowed on the field, as wooyoung refuses to share you beyond those.
WOOYOUNG and SAN are both competing for you, physically and vocally. it’s so primal and possessive, almost aggressive if you must explain it to them. making you cry in the prettiest way, you’re overstimulated, pushed to your limits, denied orgasms multiple times, and thrown into every position they can use you in. the two of them are trying to see for whom you will scream the loudest.
they even have matching tattoos, stupid little symbols of a friendship that most people wouldn't understand. they move as a unit and feel what the other wants — sharing almost everything, except san’s growing feelings for you.
san hides them under the same lust he shows you. in the roughness he uses, the pent-up suppressed stress that can only be burned off by lifting weights, or being buried so deep inside you that there’s barely any room for wooyoung to put his own dick.
and your boyfriend watches how his best friend fuck you like you're his to ruin. san has always been emotional; sometimes he covers it up well, sometimes not at all. there's nothing wrong with wanting something you can't have. being greedy and envious is what makes us human, because if you have sinned, that means you have lived without any fears, breaking the wall of rules and expectations someone just put there.
wooyoung is bratty and teasing, while san is feral and possessive. they trade control: one denies release while the other punishes, then swap. you’re used like a toy, and as mentioned, you are the beautiful doll everyone gets to play with.
their voices, hands, and bodies commanding you as both men tease you relentlessly. when you beg to cum, they pull back, switch positions, and make you work for it. if you can even say their names, as you're already fucked dumb on their cocks, because look at you: drool dripping from your mouth, the way you're shaking all over but smiling at the same time... you probably won't be able to say much.
“baby…” your boyfriend would whisper in your ear, biting the shell of your ear, your neck, collarbone and shoulder. delicately taking your arms, sloppy kissing before biting the soft flesh, yearning a hiss and a scream from you, “i want you screaming for san too.”
another thing is that they talk to each other while using you, sometimes for the most random stuff, like for example that one time at practice when wooyoung couldn’t even score a goal, “and hongjoong decided to– oh fuck, she’s close… he decided to bench me and make me the ballboy instead,” thrust after thrust in your already abused pussy, sqeezing him so tight wanting to keep him close.
“talk to me about it. seonghwa made me practice dribbling with yunho and we know how competitive he is even during practice... god, does she always sound like this before she cums?” san was as rough as wooyoung. together they are biting, scratching, and marking, until you’re overstimulated, begging with your whimper for the sweet release. “don’t even think about cumming yet, princess… not until we say.”
usually san takes you from the back since one of the things he loves about you is your ass, and wooyoung takes the front because he can’t get enough of your desperate face, but they take turns because sharing is caring.
after repeated denial, they finally let you cum, hands and mouths everywhere, leaving you completely wrecked with them finishing deep inside you at the same time. you not only spill your juices on their cocks but on san’s clean bedsheets too, making such a mess. they can’t even be mad about it, because you did so well for them… maybe the real mvp is you and not yunho, with the way you take very hard opportunities with open mouth and legs, truly magnificent, the only girl in the world born for that role.
sometimes san comes over to wooyoung’s apartment, and your beloved boyfriend is sitting in his gaming chair, spinning lazily while watching something on his phone. his arms rest on the armrests with one hand propping up his chin, the other mindlessly scrolling… or occasionally recording. just a short clip, with the way san’s muscles flex and how your legs tremble as he eats you out.
your legs are thrown over san’s shoulder as he sucks and pushes his tongue deeper, completely lost in you. like seonghwa and yeosang eating you out wasn’t already enough, because out of everyone, san is easily the most pussydrunk.
and when the sweet but strained little sounds start slipping out of you, wooyoung finally glances up from his phone. he notices the way your fingers clutch the sheets, knuckles whitening as your hips try to pull away but don’t quite manage it. you’re biting your lip too hard, the faint crease between your brows. san doesn’t notice a thing. he’s too far gone and obsessed with the taste of you, with the way your thighs squeeze around his head.
“sannie,” he says without raising his voice, “slow the fuck down. don’t you hear her?” but the man between your legs can barely hear his own thoughts, let alone anyone else’s voice. your head slowly turns toward wooyoung, eyes glossy as you blink rapidly, lips trembling with soft whines. and yeah, that might be his best friend, his soulmate (after you, of course)… but it still irritates him.
he stands up, the chair spins once behind him as he tosses his phone onto the seat. rolling up his sleeve as he walks over, gaze dropping to you first. his pretty girl is being devoured by another man who’s too lost in pleasure to notice the line between good and too much.
he knows you like it, as he also knows everyone loves to overstimulate you, and as any good boyfriend who actually wants you to feel good… his hand fists into san’s hair and yanks him back, his head is pulled away from you immediately, a frustrated sound leaving him, because his tongue literally seconds ago would have made you orgasm, but this time he was the one denied from that pleasure.
his mouth hangs slightly open, face coated in your essence, gaze dragged away from your soaked pussy and up to wooyoung.
“how many times have i told you to be careful and listen to her?” his voice drops, a bit threatening, “you can feel when she’s too sensitive.” like sure, any of them could use you however they wanted. but with wooyoung right here, seeing and hearing everything, there’s no way he’s letting you get uncomfortable.
“don’t make me kick you out,” wooyoung continues, thumb pressing slightly harder into his scalp. “or keep you away from her for a week. watch your mouth, am i clear?”
san barely gets the chance to mumble a response before he’s shoved right back between your legs.
and just like that, wooyoung returns to his chair, picks up his phone, and doom-scrolls again… totally not already planning to cut san’s time with you next week.
WOOYOUNG and YEOSANG are a strange, yet perfectly balanced duo. one of them is always holding you so carefully that it almost makes you forget how much you missed spending the day with him… while the other only starts biting you when you’re not squirming or tossing like you’re caught in a nightmare, because that’s when he likes to mark you most.
they move slowly, keeping you comfortable while still using you exactly the way their hearts (and dicks) want. it’s tender enough to make your heart beat like crazy, tears threatening to spill because moments like this are rare — where you’re treated like a real princess… and not like the slut you technically are.
for the first time in days, you can actually hear your own thoughts: real words form in your head instead of the usual muffled ones.
you’re lying on yeosang’s bed, flat on your back, their hands wandering gently over your body, leaving soft touches on your stomach and the swell of your breasts beneath the oversized shirt. wooyoung’s lips press warm against your neck while yeosang’s ghost kisses along your shoulder. your fingers tangle into both of their hair, lightly massaging their scalps without even thinking about it. your body so loose and so at ease, you feel like you’re floating somewhere, like drifting in the ocean on a hot summer day.
“just relax…” your boyfriend whispers against skin already decorated with fading marks from earlier days. “i’ve got you, babe.”
his best friend’s voice follows, so low and soothing. “you’ve been so good… just let us take care of you.”
the three of you have your eyes closed, because sometimes intimacy isn’t just about having sex. sometimes it’s being cuddled between them as they take turns to adore you, making you feel owned and safe all at once.
honestly, you have to give yeosang credit, since he is the only one who makes wooyoung loosen up like this instead of the usual teasing menace he turns into. it almost makes you forget how stupidly lovesick your boyfriend really is beneath all that campus reputation he tries so hard to maintain.
it makes you wish you could live this day on a loop.
there’s barely any roughness, they are entirely focused on your comfort and pleasure. their voices alone start to send you into a frenzy. even though wooyoung’s possessiveness slips amid whispers and light bites, while yeosang’s deep tone vibrates through you, keeping your mind from drifting too far.
at some point, your hands stop their mindless idling in their hair; you’re not even sure what did it. maybe the sensitivity or gentleness, or how they’re taking care of you, but tears start slipping down your cheeks before you can stop them. you are so overwhelmed, like a fallen angel quietly begging at heaven’s gates, knowing it might already be too late to be let back in.
“don’t cry now, angel,” yeosang notices first, as he kisses the tears from your cheeks before pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “you deserve this.”
everything stays purely vanilla. they bring you apart slowly, mostly with their voices, with barely any touches, only wooyoung’s thumb to push your panties aside, brushing your clit in lazy circles, just to work you up. until you come once… maybe twice… soft and trembling between them.
and you’re left damp and a little messy, yeosang is the one who carefully guides you to the shower. he doesn’t have a bath, even if it would suit the mood better, but he still washes your hair for you, your body too. no wandering hands or naughty thoughts, he’s too tired for games tonight.
by the time you’re wrapped in a towel, wooyoung is already back in bed, clean sheets changed, sprawled out and waiting. he would’ve joined the shower, but he wanted everything nice and tidy, because being caring is part of his nature too.
when you finally crawl back under the covers with the same oversized shirt slipping down your thighs, someone’s clean boxers loose on your hips, they pull you between them without a word. spooned and kissed until your breathing evens out and sleep finally takes you.
YUNHO and MINGI are a pair that woyoung doesn’t know about, because the mvp is smart enough to outsmart the mastermind.
for your safety, and to keep control over everyone’s schedules, your boyfriend tracks the team’s location every single day. but what does yunho sometimes do when it’s his turn with you? absolutely nothing. you relax together, play games, cuddle, kiss… maybe make out a little, because he wants you rested and prepared for saturday when the two of you will visit mingi.
and how does that work when your locations are being tracked? quite simple, he uses two phones. his current one gets switched off, the location gone. the old one stays behind in the dorm, quietly broadcasting that he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. studying for midterms, locked between four walls, fighting for that perfect grade — fake it till you make it.
“i make her moan louder,” mingi says, casually taking a slow sip of water while perched on the high barstool in his kitchen.
“in your dreams,” yunho shoots back, already halfway into the fridge looking for something to eat. “she whimpers my name.”
“she screams for me.”
“she begs for me.”
they’ve known each other since high school, yet they still bicker like teenagers who’ve never touched a woman in their lives. just another best friend duo in the group… the duo with the monstrous dick size and the most ridiculous size kinks known to mankind.
and while they argue over things that only matter to the male ego, you’re sprawled comfortably on your stomach in mingi’s room, scrolling through your phone. texting your friends that you can’t make it to tonight’s party, because you’re supposedly spending the weekend with your grandparents. they believe you, just like wooyoung believes he can keep tabs on everyone.
“then maybe we should make her say both… at the same time.”
“bet i’ll still make you cry mine first.”
mingi pushes up from his seat, already heading for the stairs. halfway up, he tilts his head, eyes flicking back for yunho to follow.
“only one way to find out, yeah?”
and that’s how it starts.
but beware, one man is emotionally invested, the other is selfishly enjoying himself. yunho is the one giving instructions, mingi is the one physically overwhelming without trying, and that makes you stuck between pressure and indulgence.
yunho tends to position you exactly how he wants, guiding your chin, your hips, your posture, as he is very controlled; every move and touch is intentional. mingi is more the grab-and-go type with lazy confidence, moving you because it feels good for him, not because he’s planning ten steps ahead.
mingi super chill but physically intense, murmuring soft praise while absolutely ruining your composure, and he’s easily distracted by how good you feel. big hands everywhere, slowly moving and leaving occasional whimpers despite being in the dominant position. he’s not trying to compete… which makes him accidentally win sometimes, and lowkey drives yunho insane.
that result of you being constantly manhandled by yunho and adjusted by mingi.
because they’re both the biggest on the team, you need a lot of time and preparation to adapt. they are very aware of how you react to the stretch and the pressure, as this is where yunho’s competitiveness spikes, especially if mingi is the one who makes you melt first. the taller keeps checking your face, needing proof he’s the one affecting you most.
mingi is here because: it feels good, you feel good, the situation is convenient for everyone.
toward the end, they stop being separate energies and start coordinating without discussing it, cocks moving in sync, in and out of your pussy or mouth until you are painted white inside and out.
“look at me, doll…” yunho is slightly breathless when worked up, seeing that tummy bludge again, and how your eyes are too busy focusing on taking mingi’s cock in your mouth, drool and cum mixing as no verbal confirmation could come out of you, just muffled moans and whines. “who’s got you shaking like this?”
“relax, baby… ” mingi chuckles when you get too needy or overstimulated. sometimes he can’t tell if you are in pain or enjoying it, but you deep throat him so good, you have a master's degree in taking him whole at this point. ”doing so well for me, hmm? ahh– yes, that’s it pretty,” he says while fisting your hair, controlling you because all you need to do is just keep that mouth wide open.
the size kink is impossible to ignore, due to you having the perfect height, your body is perfect, you are perfect.
not everyone can take two big cocks at the same time, but it gets to a point where the stretch starts to burn, where your breath stutters, and your hands clutch at yunho’s shoulders. then you’re begging for him, and the second his name slips out of your mouth first, he feels like he just won the world cup.
you only said his name because it feels like he’s going to split you open, like he might actually ruin you with how deep he keeps pushing, but yunho doesn’t care about the reason; he just hears you choosing him… you have no idea what that does to him.
after that, they don’t slow down. they fill you again and again until you’re completely stuffed, warmth spilling from between your thighs, from your lips when you can’t swallow fast enough. it’s messy and filthy, however, they aren’t careless with you.
they let you rest, give your shaking body time to come back to itself before even thinking about running you a bath. and strangely enough, yunho is the first to press a bottle of water to your lips, voice softer than anyone would expect as he makes sure you hydrate.
meanwhile, mingi just lounges beside you, big hand lazily rubbing your thighs, watching with quiet fascination as your pussy keeps leaking around nothing, still sensitive and fluttering from everything they put you through.
you can’t feel your body properly: not your mouth, or your limbs, not a single steady nerve in your system. you’re boneless, floating somewhere between overstimulated and completely gone, as you lie there, one thought keeps circling lazily through your fogged brain:
do you finally confess this little secret rendezvous to your boyfriend, or do you just keep coming back to let the big boys use you as a cumdump again?
aftercare hours have you fast asleep in mingi’s bed, completely knocked out. your head rests on yunho’s chest, your body tucked into his side, soft and safe in his arms. one hand tucked behind his head, while the other plays with your hair. absent-minded strokes, and every so often his fingers pause, then resume their soothing rhythm.
across the room, mingi is at his desk, laptop open, mouse clicking steadily against the surface. he’s focused on whatever game the guys dragged him into, probably league again, as voices could be heard through his headset while he plays. then wooyoung asks a simple question, wondering if you are okay, is all.
“how’s she doing?”
mingi glances over his shoulder, eyes flicking to the bed. “she’s out cold. snuggled up like a baby bear in hibernation. it’s kinda adorable, actually.” as he very obviously does not mention the extra detail.
back on the bed, yunho’s hand never stops its slow path through your hair, but his eyes have gone distant. because now he’s thinking about you and wooyoung. thinking about what might’ve happened if he’d said something first, shooting his shot before anyone ever had the chance. you might’ve been his from the start… instead of someone else’s.
his thumb brushes gently along your hairline, careful not to wake you… yeah, a man can only dream.
WOOYOUNG THE DEVIL WITH ANGELIC HALO
having two sides inside him that are constantly battling against each other: an angel and a devil, as cliché as it may sound.
the devilish side is cocky and bratty, hands you off to his friends like it’s nothing, loves watching you squirm, and pushes you to your limits. the angelic side, he is impossibly attentive and protective, tuned into your body and mood, soft in ways no one else ever seen him. he can absolutely ruin you, and five minutes later be the one tucking you into his hoodie and pressing kisses into your hair.
there’s no other way to describe it — he is obsessed with you.
he hates wearing the same scent as everyone else when it comes to fragrance and cologne. even more, he hates when you come back smelling like yunho or jongho for example, or whenever you have been out with your girlfriends… so expect to be showered and gifted the same perfumes he uses; you are the only one allowed to do so.
pet names are something normal in every relationship. he can call you anything in the moment… but he always brings it back to my girl.
by the time you get to his place, the table’s already full with food, your favorite drink, even the snacks you once mentioned liking just once. he acts like he didn’t just spend the last hour cooking. you’re practically glowing as you eat, shoulders relaxed for once, happily munching away.
“you always spoil me,” you mumble around a bite, smiling up at him. “feels like i’m a princess.”
wooyoung snorts softly as he reaches over without hesitation, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth to wipe away a smear you missed. you are always a little messy when you eat, but he never seems to mind.
“yeah?” he hums, leaning back in his chair like it’s no big deal, even though his gaze never really leaves you. “that’s because my girl deserves the best.” and because the cafeteria food is awful, so when boyfriend duties call, he answers.
aside from seeing you full with carefully prepared meals in the kitchen, when it comes to the bedroom… let’s not mention the insane breeding kink this man has. he might seem like he doesn’t care, but once he’s in you, it’s not only violent, but savage. the fixation comes out strongest when he’s jealous or worked up, and just needs to see you completely full of him, to claim you and be a part of you, to be one whole. he wants to stay there forever, as it seems your pussy doesn’t want to let him go either.
“no one else is ever gonna fill you like this.” cock staying buried until you have milked him dry, hands tight on your hips to ground himself, visibly irritated when he has to pull away. “want you to walk around leaking of me. let everyone see who you belong to.”
it’s possession and obsession that mainly take over him, since he gets more focused and territorial over you.
other times, he calls you a dumb little doll, a cumdump, a brat who deserves to be put in her place, but he’ll also say you’re the best he’s ever had, his perfect angel to destroy. yes, he degrades a lot on top of that. but when he praises you, it’s scary-good. you can't blame him, he's just that way, more controlling and dominant, a sweet-talker even when he's rude.
“needy little thing, so good for me. you were made to take me, yeah?” and it’s you cockwarming him before he needs to go to practice, and before you start getting ready for the next man on the timetable. “nobody else gets this pathetic version of you… still my good girl at the end of the day.”
he would kiss your neck, grazing his teeth over the skin and bite, watching you shiver and arch. since his special is mixing degradation with praise in the same breath.
everyone on campus knows that you are wooyoung’s girl, and thank god, they don’t know about the nasty stuff that’s happening behind the scenes.
you wear his hoodie to hide the numerous hickeys and bites left from every man. you stay close to him or any of the other players when you don’t feel comfortable around people, because before fuckboys they are your friends too. it's just all a perfect illusion, a lie that feeds on itself.
wooyoung knows when you’ve been pushed to your limits, even if you deny it. after intense day with san or other yunho, he sets a clear rule not only to his friends.
“she’s off this week, maybe for longer, i’ll take care of her.” what he meant to say was, find someone else to fuck.
even though you love being used by the team, he wants your body and mind fully recovered, or just wants you to himself, he will give them the chance to use you again someday.
teasing touches to remind you you’re his, but surprisingly without pushing you over the edge. again cooks food for you, does your assignments even if you two study completely different things, insisting you don’t lift a finger.
the other pirates respect the rule, don’t go against it or try to question it. they bring you snacks sometimes, or offer shoulder rubs after your dance practice, making playful comments like: “woo’s really spoiling you, huh?”
and you wonder why he is attentive and caring beneath the chaos he loves to cause?
because wooyoung knows your monthly cycle is near. you’re sensitive, more emotional, hormonal, and physically overwhelmed. during this time, he’s extra affectionate, more observant, quicker to pull you into his lap, way softer and clingier in private.
he always pays attention, that’s why during your ovulation day, knowing he could get you pregnant, but it’s too early for that, he uses condoms. very unfortunate, but he’s taking no risks. it’s just the start of your twenties; surely neither of you wants a baby to just pop up. the other times it’s raw, next question.
wet sounds of skin clapping echo through the room. he is rutting inside you, the plastic wrapped around his dick there for safety, he tells himself, but fucking dammit, the urge to breed you is getting out of hand, especially with how much your hormones spike during these specific hours.
“messy baby… can’t help it, huh?” you’re lying on your back with him hovering above you, your hands holding his, fingers laced together as he breathes you in. “such a greedy girl… but you look so pretty fucked dumb on your boyfriend’s cock, hm?”
“wooyo–” you moan as he hits that spot, hot tears spilling, your vision blurring because you want him so bad, closer than gravity allows. fuck, you love him so much.
“yeah, baby? you’re mine, remember that… it’s me who makes you feel like this. a cockdrunk slut who knows who makes her feel real good.”
his grip on your hands tightens, veins in his arms and neck standing out as his pace quickens. you’re close to orgasming, maybe squirting again, who knows, it’s a gamble, and he’s close too. god, how he’d love to see his cum dripping out of you… but then he thinks about you with not-so-happy tears, holding a pregnancy test.
so for now, he and the rubber are becoming very good friends.
wooyoung always has this look when you start getting desperate for him, so smug as if he still can’t believe you always crawl back to him. because you never get like this for anyone else. not for hongjoong on a monday afternoon, or for yunho after practice, as the whole world can touch you, but only he gets to keep you.
so when he pulls out, and for once he actually put towels beneath you because you’re making a mess again, he kisses you from your lips down to your neck, breasts, and stomach, until he’s right where you’re soaked and sensitive, licking everything up like a starved kitten. he can’t get enough of the taste of you… he’s just as pussydrunk as you are cockdrunk.
shit, the condom is heavy with his cum as he slips it off and tosses it somewhere on the floor. he wants so badly to be inside you, but maybe your mouth can do the job for now… so now you’re sucking his dick, licking him clean as he makes you swallow it, because it’ll be inside you at some point, just not from the right hole.
“fuckin’ making me wait until this day is over… how about we graduate already so i can get you pregnant,” he mutters, pushing your head down to take him deeper. “won’t gotta worry about birth control or plan b– f-fuck, baby, that’s it, you know how to suck a dick right.”
and when he comes into your mouth, he barely even has to work for it. he pulls out, breathing heavier than usual, like his body’s finally starting to feel it, how he is completely milked dry. you’ve been fucking for what…oh, all day, basically.
like a devoted future husband, he takes care of you all over again. once you’ve both finally calmed down, the first thing he does is wipe your tears away, kissing each cheek gently.
“you did perfectly, princess. so perfect for me...” quietly reassuring you that you’re not any of the degrading things he said earlier, even if you know you are, you just want to be pampered right now. “c’mon, breathe with me… there you go, my good girl.”
so he pulls you into his arms first. his bedroom still smells like sex, eventually you’ll both hit the shower… just not now.
you’re curled into him, legs tangled with his, your cheek resting against his bicep since it’s your personal pillow. his fingers trace slow, lazy circles along your back while he stares up at the ceiling, not even realizing you’re starting to drift off.
“baby, let’s sho–” his lips brush your forehead as he murmurs into your hair, but you don’t answer, and … the softness that takes over his face, the love in his eyes with that helpless adoration, totally heartstruck and whipped. he presses another kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally a quick, gentle peck to your lips. “i love you so much.”
and he really loves you, and he doesn't just say those words that easily. it doesn't matter who you're with tomorrow, or in two days. you will always, absolutely always come running into his arms, wanting him and only him. because at the end of the day, the others get access to your body, but it's wooyoung who gets access to your heart.
a/n: any grammar mistakes or typos will probably be edited with time!
