Jack Abbot remembers the exact first time you had succumbed to your inner thoughts. It was the afternoon after a full morning of spending time together in bed having... fun. He was much older than you, got tired more easily which explains why he was standing idly in the kitchen waiting for his cup of coffee to brew in order to gather more post-activity energy.
He replayed the hours spent in your shared bedroom, how good you felt underneath his muscles, how your voice whimpered words of 'more' and 'please'. What you were pleading for he wasn't sure but by God did he give you all he got. He didn't know how exactly he was going to be able to stay on his feet for tonight's shift but seeing how you, usually so steadfast and snarky had transformed into a bundle of whimpers in bed, he knew it had been worth it. Really it was all he could think about, not even keeping an eye on his drink.
Until a slap resounded on his buttocks followed by a harsh squeeze which made his squeal. He had jumped a foot in the air, thankful for the counter to help him soften his landing as he hadn't yet put on his prosthetic.
"Hey handsome." You giggled, winking as he threw you an absurd look, hand patting his now sore butt.
The feeling of your hand on his butt had then become a casual thing. Actually more than casual, it had become the norm.
At get togethers with friends your hand would grab onto one of his butt cheeks, squeezing to pass time as he tried to keep his blush away. Thankfully you never did it with people behind you, though Jack wasn't sure he'd be bothered if anyone had seen it.
Jack had also learnt that going up stairs in front of you was a mine field. If he was too slow and ended up in the reach of your arms, he had a 99% chance of being groped, usually having to run up the last few flights of stairs to defend the little dignity he had left.
And for a while you thought that he was indulging you like he usually does. That was until one day during a cuddling session, his bare chest on yours while you mindlessly drew shapeless patterns on his back, he twisted his arm, grabbing your hand and wordlessly moving it to his butt for you to massage.
To your horror you had created a Diva that now needed to have his butt massaged daily.
THE CAPTAIN AMERICANA FILM FESTIVAL - american classic films reimagined with america's finest, featuring fics from: @love-stucky @blowingbarnes @pinksplace @lunexiax @singulartoast @buckybsdoll and me!
full programme to be revealed july 4th. stay tuned, and bring popcorn!
you know that trope where it’s princess + knight, but they’ve both been captured by the bad guys and the princess is now gripped by the jaw by the villain, receiving a thin cut to her cheek while remaining completely still with a defiant look in her eyes even as a droplet of blood begins to trickle out of the wound, all while 3 people AT THE VERY LEAST need to have their hands locked on the knight because he’s thrashing around like a wild animal, trying so so so desperately, violently, to get to her?
𓊆박성훈 x fem reader𓊇 💌 crazy making out scenes, literally they're only making out, suggestive and steamy! making out, grinding, spit play, tongue play, so messy, sunghoon's so obsessed! non proofread as usual!
𓆩♡𓆪 i donno if this is obvious but i highlight kissing so so so much and for so many times in almost every smut i write about. i love kissing, i think kissing is the most intimate act ever. kissing is sex, and i have this weird thing where i'm like, oh kissing IS THE point of everything... u cheat and fuck her?? ok... u KISS her...? ok now wtf that's actually cheating... i can talk abt it for hours sorri ok mwah. i love kissing <3
thinking of kisser boy sunghoon aka sunghoon who’s obsessed with kissing. unlike the other guys who make one another choose ass or boobs, sunghoon prefers your… lips instead.
it shows in the way he kisses you like he’s trying to memorise every plump, every skin, every texture of it. so slow at first—almost lazy—just pressing his lips against yours again and again, barely moving.
“sunghoon—”
his arm snakes around your waist from behind. you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, notes and textbooks scattered around the foldable table, but sunghoon—who’s leaning against the edge of the bed—has clearly run out of patience and things to do.
you let out a small surprised sound as he pulls you backwards, settling you between his legs, back meets his chest, and your head naturally tilts up toward him.
“don’t—” you start, trying to keep your focus on the open laptop in front of you. “i need to study.”
he doesn’t listen, nor care really. instead, sunghoon’s slender fingers slide along your jaw, turning your face toward him with that determination when he wants something from you. and this something is your lips.
“just one,” he murmurs, mouth already hovering close. “please?”
you turn your head away at the very last second, lips pressing into a line. “no. i have a test tomorrow—”
sunghoon follows. his hand cups your cheek, guiding your face back to him. the moment your lips are within reach, he presses a soft, lingering kiss to them, slow and sweet like he’s just beginning to melt.
you pull back slightly, whining, “sunghoon, i’ve got a test—”
but he’s already tilting your head the other way, chasing your mouth with his own. another kiss, a little deeper this time, his lips moving against yours. when you try to pull and turn away again, het lets out a soft, pleading sound against your lips.
“please, baby, just a little more,” he whispers, voice sweet and saccharine. his thumb strokes your cheek as he angles your face toward him once more. “your lips are so pretty when you’re focused…”
his thumb then lightly presses and tugs on the plump centre of your lips. “it’s so pouty…”
you frown and squirm half–hearteedly in his hold, giggling despite yourself as he keeps stealing kiss after kiss—each one slowly and more consuming than the last. every time you mutter “nooo”, or try to look away from him, he simply nudges your chin back and captures your lips again.
more persistent. more greedy. more annoying.
“babe—” you try one last time, but it just comes out breathy, whiny, and weak against his mouth.
your boyfriend hums softly, super satisfied, and kisses you even deeper, one hand cradling your face while the other keeps you pressed against his chest. he takes your bottom lip between his, tugging it gently before soothing it with a slow swipe of his tongue.
“mmhm,” sunghoom hums, sucking your top lip and just lost in the feeling overall. every kiss is so deliberate and unhurried and felt, but so persistent that you’re melting nonetheless whether you want to or not.
he barely gives you room to breathe, and it’s not helping with the awkwardness of the position you’re in—twisted around with your back against his chest, neck craned. but he doesn’t seem to notice; and if he does, he doesn’t seem to care. your boyfriend just keeps turning your head with his hand so he can kiss you from every angle he wants, smiling against your lips every time they part a little more for him.
“so soft,” he murmurs between kisses, voice hazy and low.
his fingers squish your cheeks together, making your lips pout. he starts peppering tiny, greedy pecks all over them—soft, repeated little kisses on the plump centre, then the corners, then back to the middle again like he can’t decide which part tastes better.
you let out a muffled whine.
sunghoon cuts you off by pressing a firmer, deeper kiss right in the centre of your squished lips, feeling them yield underneath. he doesn’t let go of your cheeks, keeping them pinched while he indulges—sucking, then the top one, savouring the plush.
“you’re so perfect,” he whispers before tilting your head further to the side, capturing your mouth fully, slow and so deep, completely lost.
he’s so irritating.
——
a kiss is a sex.
sunghoon doesn’t just love kissing during sex—he pretty much can’t get hard without it. or he gets hard every time you guys kiss? it’s not foreplay, nor is it an add on. he cannot fathom how some people don’t devour each others’ lips during sex.
making out is the main event most of the time.
the nights where you both start with the intention of going further, clothes already scattered on the floor, his body hovering over yours, hard and ready… and you’re so fucking desperate your pussy keeps spasming over fucking nothing…
but then his lips find yours and everything slows down except the hardness in his cock. he gets so lost, completely.
like right now.
sunghoon’s got you underneath him, thighs spread around his hips, skin hot and flushed and sweaty. you can feel how hard he is, his cock pressed against you and it twitches every time you shift.
“can’t—can’t take it anymore, hoonie… need you inside m—”
your boyfriend cuts you off by slamming his lips against yours instead of pushing inside and fucking you feral.
and there goes everything.
he tilts his head, slotting your mouths together perfectly, sucking on your bottom lip before sliding his tongue against yours in sensual strokes. every time you try to pull back for air, he just chases over—whining into your mouth.
“where you going?” he whines, grinding his cock between your pussy lips. “just kiss me—c’mon.”
it’s so fucking annoying how his hips roll so nicely, his cock between the wetness of your cunt and sometimes the tip dips in—but he never actually thrusts in. sunghoon’s too busy indulging your mouth—licking and biting.
instead of the wet sex, thrusting, pounding sounds, the room is filled with messy and obscene wet kisses.
you moan into his mouth when he angles his head and kisses you even deeper, tongue exploring every corner and crevices of your domain. his thumb strokes your cheeks while he keeps your face right where he wants it, completely taking control of the kiss as usual.
“shit, shit, shit,” he moans, grinding his cock faster against your soaked pussy—hot, heavy, throbbing—and kisses you just as much.
not for a single second does he pull away. his mouth stays glued to yours, every grind makes you both whimper. sunghoon plays with your tongue like he’s making love to it—curling around yours, sucking on it, then licking it flat and messy.
gosh, he’s even fucking licking your teeth like it’s toothbrush, or something.
sunghoon pulls back just enough to let a thin string of spit corner your lips, then dives back in, pushing his tongue against yours. this time, sloppier on purpose. sunghoon mixes his spit with yours under it’s dripping down your chin before catching it with his tongue then feeds it back to you in an open–mouthed kiss.
“so wet,” he pants like a dog in a heat. “your mouth, pussy—everything’s so fucking soft for me.”
you’re both a mess. spit on your chin and chest. his hips that just rolls in that desperate rhythm he’s not doing anything to fix, rubbing his cock against your clit, but still not slipping inside. he’s too addicted to your mouth,
this is sex for him.
sunghoon pulls back for half a second, eyes hazy and you swear his pupils dilate by many when he stares down at you. momentarily, you thought you’re finally getting pounded—but then he spits directly onto your tongue—a blob of warm saliva pooling on the flat of your tongue—before he kisses you again.
there have been nights when he spends hours just making out and being naked with you and sunghoon cums just from that. shoots up those precious semen that should’ve been inside you on your tummy.
your boyfriend is so pathetic and annoying he cums from kissing alone. from the way you whimper into his mouth when he sucks on your tongue. from how swollen and shiny your lips get.
this is one of those nights that don’t even go further than this.
because to sunghoon, a kiss isn’t just a kiss.
it’s sex.
——
“...what did you do?”
you’re staring at the mountain on the bed—all from that expensive brands you mentioned once in passing. sunghoon stands behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, looking way too pleased.
“i bought you stuff baby,” he smiles, pressing a kiss on the slope of your shoulder. then, he presses his cheek against yours, lips not failing to brush your skin. “...try ons?” he says innocently, but the mischievous glint in his eyes says otherwise.
sunghoon bought you more lip products than lingeries or toys. glosses in every shade and flavour—sheer pinks, shiny nudes, tinted reds, glittery ones, plumping ones. stacks of lip oils, balms, liners, liquid lipstick, satin, powdery—it’s endless.
“hoonie,” you laugh, half–amused, half–shocked. “this is too much. you just bought me some few weeks back, and i don’t even wear lip gloss that often—”
“but you will now,” he murmurs, already pulling you forward with him. he picks up a shiny pink gloss and uncaps it, eyes locked on your mouth.
“try this one first.”
you barely have time to protest before he holds your chin and applies the gloss on for you. his gaze is so focused on every glide of the wand across your lips. when he’s done, he admires how glossy and pouty they look.
“gosh,” he murmurs, feeling the throb beneath his sweats.
sunghoon presses his lips against your newly glossed ones, smearing the shin between you. it starts soft—but sunghoon being sunghoon—he quickly gets greedy. he kisses you deeper, tongue swiping across your bottom lip to taste the sweet goods.
“mmm… strawberry,” he murmurs, then goes back in for a confirmation and more. he sucks lightly on your bottom lip, licking the gloss, only to kiss so the shine transfers to his own lips.
you pull back a little, giggling. “you bought all this just so you could kiss it off me, didn’t you?”
your boyfriend doesn’t deny it. instead, he picks up another tube—a cherry red one this time—and grins that pretty, naughty smile.
“obviously. be good and try the next one for me, baby.”
sunghoon plans on spending the entire night applying, admiring, and then thoroughly kissing every single shade off until your lips are swollen and shiny with his spit because sunghoon believes nothing—nothing looks better on you but him.
buying you all these glosses aren’t just a gift for you—it’s an investment for him.
ENHA HARD HOURS 18+ MDNI
okay so there is cockwarming, belly bulging, lots of dirty talk, and a bit of a lactation kink in sunghoons one and a daddy kink in jakes i think maybe sunghoon and jungwon take the cake for making me drip on this one honestly idek what i was thinking writing this one it was brain empty hands typing.
𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠
Heeseung has been on edge all fucking evening.
It starts at dinner—his eyes glued to you the entire time, watching the way your sundress flutters around your thighs, the way you shift in your seat, completely oblivious to how wrecked he already is.
Then at home—the way you walk around the apartment, still wearing that same pretty little dress, still teasing him without even trying.
And now?
Now, you’re bent over to pick something up off the floor, the hem of your sundress lifting just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of soft, bare skin.
And Heeseung snaps.
His hands are on you before you even realize he’s moved—gripping your hips, grinding his cock against your ass, letting out a deep, breathy groan that’s been building inside him all fucking day.
“Fuck, angel,” he hisses, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers gripping tight, keeping you in place. “You have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?”
You gasp, startled, hands clutching at the dresser in front of you for balance.
“Hee—”
“Walking around all day in this little dress,” he murmurs, one hand sliding down your stomach, dipping between your thighs, fingers grazing the soft skin just above your knee. “So short, angel. Barely covering anything. Did you wear this for me? Hm? You trying to make me lose my fucking mind?”
You feel his cock pressing against you, already so hard, already straining against his sweats.
And then—just to tease you, just to hear you whimper.
His fingers inch higher, slipping beneath the hem of your dress, tracing lazy circles up the inside of your thigh.
You shiver, biting your lip, trying to ignore the way your breath shakes beneath his touch.
“Ah, angel,” he breathes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, slowly, teasingly bunching it up.
Then, voice drenched in something dark, something hungry, something desperate.
“Bend over for me. Right now.”
You do.
Because how could you not?
Your body melts into his touch, your hands gripping the dresser, your back arching slightly as heeseung pushes your dress up around your waist.
And when he sees you like this—your ass bare, your thighs trembling, your slick already coating your inner thighs from how badly you’ve wanted him all day—
He groans, low and deep, head dropping to your shoulder.
“Jesus, baby—”
Then, in one slow, deep movement,
He slides his cock inside you.
You gasp, your body tensing, your fingers gripping the dresser so hard your knuckles turn white.
Because he’s so fucking deep.
Because he doesn’t ease into it.
Because he fills you up all at once, burying himself inside you in one smooth, deliberate thrust, stretching you open, pressing so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach.
Heeseung?
He moans.
Loud. Breathy. Wrecked.
His fingers dig into your hips, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he breathes through the feeling of being so deep inside you.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice shaking, his hands sliding up your back, keeping you pressed firmly against the dresser.
“You’re already sucking me in, angel. You want this that bad? Hm? Want me to fuck you stupid?”
You whimper, nodding desperately, already too lost in the pleasure to answer properly.
That’s all he needs.
Heeseung grins, voice dripping with filth, his hips snapping against yours as he starts fucking into you—deep, slow, grinding thrusts, pressing his cock as far inside as he can go.
His hands slide under your dress, gripping your tits, squeezing, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers, making you moan louder, making your body arch for him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his lips dragging over your shoulder, biting down lightly. “Made for me. Made to take my cum. Gonna breed you, angel. Gonna fill you up so good you won’t need this dress anymore—gonna have my cum dripping down your thighs instead.”
When you clench around him at his words, Heeseung gasps, his pace stuttering, his fingers flexing against your skin.
“Shit—you like that, angel? Like when I talk about stuffing you full?”
He lets out a deep, filthy groan, his hips snapping faster, thrusting into you rougher, his breath ragged against your neck.
And then—his hand slides down, pressing against the bulge in your stomach, feeling the way his cock fills you up.
“Feel that?” His voice is low, husky, wrecked. “That’s me, angel. That’s where I’m gonna fucking fill you up.”
And then—as his thrusts turn erratic, as his breath catches, as his entire body tenses against yours.
He spills inside you.
His moans turn into soft, shaky gasps, his fingers dig into your hips, pressing you back onto him, making sure you take all of it.
And when he finally comes down, when his breath slows, when his forehead rests against the back of your neck,
He still doesn’t move.
He stays there, still deep inside you, still keeping his cum tucked inside where it belongs.
And then, so soft, so teasing, so unbearably filthy,
“Better not let a drop go to waste, angel. That dress was short enough already.”
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠
You’ve been bothering him all week.
You knew exactly what you were doing.
You did it in the kitchen— wrapping your arms around him from behind while he cooked, pressing your cheek to his back, whispering, “Baby, don’t you wanna give me a baby? One with your pretty eyes and my smile?”
You did it on the couch— climbing into his lap while he was watching TV, grinding against his cock through his sweats, murmuring against his lips, “Isn’t that what good husbands do? They give their wife whatever she wants?”
You did it in bed— naked, stretched out on top of him, licking the shell of his ear, dragging your fingers down his stomach, pressing soft, teasing kisses along his jaw.
“Fuck me full, Jay. Please, please, please—right now, right now, right now.”
Jay had been so fucking patient.
Just smiling, shaking his head, gripping your waist and kissing you deep, groaning as he held back.
But now?
Now, you’re doing it again—laying in bed, tangled up in his arms, whispering filth in his ear like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to him.
“Please, baby,” your voice is sweet, breathy, teasing, your fingers trailing down his chest, your nails scraping lightly at his abs. “Please fill me up. I want you to make me a mommy, Jay. I want you to fuck me so deep that it sticks, want you to pump me so full of your cum I can’t even think, wanna be so full I can feel it dripping down my thighs—”
And Jay snaps.
One second, he’s laying there, listening, gritting his teeth, gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turn white.
The next—he has you flipped onto your stomach, pinned beneath him, his hands grabbing at your hips, yanking them up, shoving a pillow under you, spreading you open for him.
His chest is rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths, his jaw clenched tight, his voice low and wrecked and dangerously strained.
“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
You whimper, breath catching, fingers clutching at the pillow.
“Nope.”
And then you wiggle your hips back against him, your soaked cunt pressing against his rock-hard cock, teasing, taunting.
Jay loses it.
His hand flies to the back of your neck, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there as he grinds against you, slow, deliberate, letting you feel exactly how hard you’ve made him.
His voice is low, dark, dripping with something dangerous.
“You’ve been begging for it all fucking week,” he murmurs, dragging the head of his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. “You want me to fuck a baby into you that bad, sweetheart?”
You whimper, pressing your ass back against him, nodding frantically.
“Yes—yes, please, Jay.”
And then—without another word, without another second of teasing.
Jay slams into you in one deep, brutal thrust.
You scream.
Your entire body jerks, your fingers claw at the pillow, your eyes go wide as he stretches you open, stuffing you full in one smooth motion, pressing so deep you swear you can feel him in your fucking throat.
Jay moans.
Loud. Deep. Wrecked.
His fingers dig into your hips, his head dropping forward, his chest pressing against your back, his breath shaky and hot against your ear.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice raw, his grip tightening. “You’re so fucking tight—”
And then he pulls back—just a little,
Before he fucks you.
Hard.
His pace is brutal, unforgiving, every snap of his hips forcing sharp little gasps from your throat, making your body jerk up against him, making you completely fucking helpless beneath him.
“You begged for this, baby,” he pants, his hand slipping under your stomach, pressing against the bulge in your belly, feeling himself inside you. “Begged for me to fuck you stupid, begged for me to breed you—so take it.”
You whimper, moaning brokenly, eyes rolling back as he fucks into you harder, deeper, rougher.
And when you start shaking, when your walls clamp down around him so tight he nearly fucking chokes.
Jay groans, wrecked and desperate, his cock twitching inside you.
His hand slides up, presses down against your stomach again.
“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, pressing harder, his voice shaking. “You’re gonna feel me inside you for fucking days.”
You whimper, body trembling, legs shaking, pleasure ripping through your body so intensely you feel like you might break.
And Jay?
Jay laughs, breathless, teasing, completely obsessed with the way you’re falling apart under him.
“Oh, baby,” his voice is soft now, gentle, dripping with something possessive and tender and absolutely filthy.
“You’re gonna look so fucking pretty carrying my baby.”
And then, with one final, deep thrust, pressing as far inside you as he can go,
He spills inside you.
His moans turn into soft, broken little gasps, his hips still rolling, still grinding, still fucking his cum deep inside you, making sure you take all of it.
But he doesn’t stop.
Because when he feels the way your walls flutter around him, still so tight, still so warm, still sucking him in,
He groans, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you in place.
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice soft, teasing, completely fucked-out.
Then he pulls back and slams into you again.
“You wanted me to fuck a baby into you, didn’t you?” His voice is wrecked, strained, dripping with lust. “So let me make sure it fucking sticks.”
𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧
Jake has been suffering.
For months.
Maybe even longer.
The obsession started out innocent enough—little thoughts, little fantasies. At first, it was just an idea that curled up inside his brain whenever he looked at you. You, swollen with his baby, glowing, carrying the life he put inside you.
Then, it got worse.
It became a need.
A deep, aching, primal fucking need.
It was in the way he touched you—his hands sliding down to press warm and firm over your lower belly whenever he pulled you against him at night. The way his lips would linger there, soft and reverent, before murmuring “Wouldn’t it be nice, baby?” against your skin.
It was in the way he looked at you—his brown eyes dark and full of something dangerous, something obsessed, something close to unraveling every time you wore one of those tiny little dresses that clung to your body just right.
It was in the way he spoke to you.
Whispered things in public, just loud enough for you to hear.
“You’d be such a pretty mommy, you know that? I’d take such good care of you.”
“Bet you’d look so fucking good carrying my baby. All full of me, round and soft, showing everyone who you belong to.”
“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Let me put a baby in you, fill you up just right, pump you so full you couldn’t even think about anything else.”
You just laughed.
Ruffled his hair, kissed him deep, tugged him by the belt into the bedroom but never let him finish inside.
Always made him pull out.
Always left him aching, desperate, completely wrecked.
Tonight, you’re done making him wait.
So you plan it.
You wait for him in bed—the room bathed in warm, flickering candlelight, wearing the tiniest, most delicate nightgown you own.
Wine red.
Thin straps barely clinging to your shoulders, the silk soft and sheer, dipping so dangerously low over your chest that your nipples are just barely hidden beneath the lace trim. The hem short enough that it barely covers the curve of your ass.
Your nails are painted the same deep shade, your toes, your lips—all matching, all designed to drive him insane.
And when Jake walks in—tie loosened, dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair already messy from running his fingers through it all day.
He stops in his tracks.
Dead fucking silent.
Like his brain just short-circuited.
His eyes drag over every inch of you,from the curve of your thighs, to the lace hanging off your skin, to the way you spread your legs just a little, dragging your fingers up your own thigh like you’re already waiting for him.
And then?
Then, you say the words.
“I stopped taking my birth control.”
Jake physically shudders.
Like a full-body tremor, a violent, wrecked little reaction, his hands clenching into fists, his pupils dilating so fast you swear you see them blow out completely black.
“What?” His voice is already wrecked, already hoarse, already breaking.
You tilt your head, smiling slow, lazy, teasing.
“I stopped taking my birth control, daddy.”
Jake fucking whimpers.
The sound that leaves his mouth is pathetic.
Absolutely wrecked.
His knees actually buckle, his hips twitch forward, his breath leaves him in sharp, ragged gasps like he’s already about to come just from hearing those words.
“Oh my fucking God—baby, please, please.”
He’s on you in seconds.
No hesitation.
His hands are all over you, grabbing at you, pulling you into his lap, grinding against you so hard it’s almost bruising. His mouth is everywhere,your neck, your collarbones, your chest, his breath shaking against your skin as he gasps against your lips.
“Say it again.” His voice is low, rough, dangerous. “Say it again, baby, tell me I can finally fucking breed you.”
You lick into his mouth, slow and teasing, dragging your fingers through his curls, gripping the back of his neck, whispering the words right against his lips.
“I stopped taking my birth control, daddy. Breed me. Fuck a baby into me.”
And Jake fucking breaks.
His hips buck up into yours so hard you feel his cock throbbing through his pants, his moan coming out high and whiny, completely fucking gone.
“Oh, f-fuck, oh my God, baby.”
His fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it so fast that he nearly fumbles, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
When he finally gets his cock free, when he presses the leaking tip against your folds, dragging it through your slick.
His whole body shudders.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping.” His voice breaks. “All for me? Huh? All for daddy’s cock?”
You whimper, shifting against him, rubbing yourself over his length, making him suck in a sharp, ragged breath.
“Fuck, baby, you’re already making a mess. You want it that bad, huh? Want me to pump you so full you’ll be dripping for days—”
And before you can even answer—before you can even fucking breathe, Jake slams into you.
Hard. Fast. Deep. Brutal.
You scream.
Your back arches, your hands claw at his shoulders, your body trembles from the sudden stretch, the overwhelming fullness.
And Jake?
Jake moans.
Loud. Choked. Completely fucking destroyed.
“Oh my God, baby—fuck!”
His hips jerk, his fingers digging into your waist, his forehead pressing against yours as he gasps for air.
And then he starts moving.
Fast.
Rough.
Completely feral.
“Gonna breed you, baby,” he pants, his voice cracking, shaking. “Gonna fill you up so fucking deep you’ll feel it for weeks—”
“Gonna fuck you till you can’t even stand, keep stuffing you with my cum until you can’t take anymore,”
And when you whimper, when your walls flutter around him, when your body shakes with the force of how deep he’s fucking you.
Jake snaps.
His hips stutter, his hands tremble, his moans turn into wrecked little whimpers.
“Oh, f-fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come, baby, take it, take all of it,”
And then, with one final, deep, messy thrust, pressing as far inside you as he can,
He spills inside you.
And it doesn’t stop.
Jake is still moaning, still rutting into you, still grinding his cock as deep as it’ll go, his breath shaky, his whimpers high and needy as he fucks his cum deeper.
And then—his voice, soft, trembling, completely wrecked. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop, baby. Hope you meant it.”
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 (beware)
Sunghoon always pulls out.
Even when he’s panting against your skin, moaning your name, fucking you so deep and slow that you can feel every inch of him drag along your walls—he never lets himself go completely.
Even now, with you clenching around him, nails scratching down his back, his glasses fogging up from how deep he’s breathing, you know he’s still planning to pull out at the last second.
That’s why you decide to ruin him.
You drag your hands up his back, pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering sweet and filthy.
“Cum inside me.”
Sunghoon’s entire body locks up.
His hips stutter, his breath catches, his hands dig into your waist, holding you so tight you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow.
His voice comes out wrecked, hoarse, completely caught off guard.
“W-what?”
You tilt your head, letting your lips drag along his jaw, teasing, soft, sinful.
“I want you to cum inside me, baby. Fill me up. Give me everything.”
His eyes snap down to your tits immediately.
They’re bouncing every time he thrusts, slick and glistening with sweat, nipples hard and begging for his mouth.
Just like you knew he would,
Sunghoon loses it.
He grabs at them immediately, groaning as his fingers dig into the soft flesh, squeezing, kneading, pushing them together, watching how they spill through the gaps in his hands.
“F-fuck,” he chokes out, palming them roughly, sucking in a sharp breath. “You look so fucking good, baby. So soft,”
His head dips instantly, latching onto one of your nipples without hesitation.
The second his warm tongue flicks against the sensitive peak, you let out a soft moan, arching into his mouth, letting him bury his face between them.
“You love sucking on them, don’t you?” you murmur, fingers tugging his hair, keeping him there. “Bet you’ll love them even more when they’re bigger.”
He groans into your skin, sucking harder, tongue swirling, lips wet and messy.
“Bigger?” His voice is breathless, muffled against your tits, moaning between every word.
“Mmhmm,” you hum, raking your nails down his back, gasping when he nips at you. “They’re gonna get huge when you put a baby in me, Hoonie. Heavy. Sensitive. So full.”
Sunghoon whimpers.
Actually fucking whimpers.
His hips jerk forward on instinct, thrusting into you deeper, his breath getting shakier, more uneven, more desperate.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you purr, rolling your hips against him, watching the way his brows furrow, the way his jaw clenches, the way he moans around your nipple. “Watching them get bigger just for you. All full with milk, leaking—”
Sunghoon gasps, moans so deep it vibrates against your skin, sucking harder, needier, sloppier.
“Fuck.” he chokes out, switching to your other nipple, latching on immediately, sucking so hard you swear you feel his tongue everywhere.
“You’d drink it for me, wouldn’t you, baby?” you whisper, watching the way his cock twitches inside you. “When they’re too heavy, when they ache, you’d help me, right? Suck it all out? Just like you’re doing now?”
His hips snap forward so hard you cry out.
His grip on your tits turns bruising, his moans completely fucked, completely broken, completely desperate.
“Oh my fucking God,” he gasps, pulling back just to stare at them, glossy with his spit, flushed and swollen. “You’re trying to fucking kill me,”
You laugh softly, dragging your fingers through his damp hair.
“Not my fault you get so horny for my tits, baby. Just imagine how they’ll look when you fuck a baby into me.”
Sunghoon lets out a wrecked, desperate groan, his eyes glued to your chest, hips moving faster, harder, deeper, his forehead pressing against your shoulder.
“You really fucking want it?” His voice is shaky, breathless, barely even there. “You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up?”
“Yes, Hoonie,” you whimper, moaning his name, pulling him closer. “Want you to fuck me so full I start leaking. Want you to suck it out when it’s too much. Want you to make sure I stay full of your cum every single fucking night–”
Sunghoon snaps.
His hips slam into you harder, his moans turning high, breathless, broken.
“Oh my God, oh my God—I’m gonna fucking cum!”
His cock twitches, his entire body tenses, and then he’s spilling inside you, deep, hot, thick, endless.
His moans turn into soft, gasping whimpers, his hands trembling against your chest, still cupping your tits, still squeezing, still sucking softly at your flushed, sensitive skin.
You whisper in his ear, wrecked, sweet, teasing.
“You’re still sucking on them, baby,” you murmur, dragging your nails up his spine, making him shudder.
His hips twitch, still pressing into you, still rocking his cum deeper inside you.
“You wanna go again?” you whisper, breathless, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “We still need to make sure it doesn't leak.”
Sunghoon lets out a wrecked, broken moan, his cock already getting hard again.“Fuck—we’re not stopping.”
𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨
Sunoo has been glowing all week.
Ever since you both agreed to start trying for a baby, he’s been softer, more affectionate, more eager to touch you at any given moment. His hands wander constantly—over your stomach, your waist, the dip of your spine, up under your shirt when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. Every night, he holds you just a little tighter, whispers just a little sweeter, kisses you just a little longer.
Tonight, he’s above you, warm and solid, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses over your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your shoulder. His hips move slow, deep, rocking into you like he’s savoring every second.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. “Still can’t believe we’re really doing this.”
Your arms wrap around his back, fingers dragging over the smooth expanse of skin. His body shivers beneath your touch, his breath hitching as his rhythm falters for just a second.
“It’s real,” you whisper, pressing your lips against his temple. “You’re gonna fill me up so well, baby.”
A soft moan spills from his lips, a quiet little gasp that has you clenching around him. His hands tighten against your waist, gripping you like you might disappear.
“You really want that?” His voice shakes slightly, like he’s holding himself back.
You nod, brushing your lips against his ear. “Want all of you, Sunoo. Want you to give me everything.”
His movements grow more deliberate, more fluid, more desperate. His forehead presses against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a shaky breath.
“You’re gonna be so pretty carrying my baby,” he whispers. “So full, so soft. I’ll take care of you, you know that, right?”
Your heart clenches, warmth blooming through your chest. You kiss him, slow and deep, letting him feel just how much you want this, how much you want him.
His pace quickens. He’s always been so careful, so sweet, but this is different. He’s lost in you, breath ragged, fingers flexing against your skin. Every thrust has him sinking deeper, pressing harder, like he’s trying to mark you from the inside out.
“I can’t stop,” he gasps, voice trembling, lips brushing over yours with every desperate exhale. “You feel too good, baby. I need—”
His voice breaks into a soft moan, the words fading into nothing as he presses deeper, holding you tight, completely and utterly lost.
Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him buried inside you. He shudders when he feels it, his whole body tensing, his hips stuttering against yours.
“Give it to me, baby,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Make me full.”
Sunoo chokes on a breath, his moan turning into something high and sweet, completely wrecked. His hands tremble as he grips your thighs, pressing himself as deep as he can. His hips stutter, then still.
Warmth spreads through you as he spills inside, filling you up just like he promised.
But when you shift beneath him, when your walls flutter around him just right, he lets out a soft, helpless little whimper.
His cock twitches. His fingers dig into your skin.
“You’re still hard, baby,” you murmur, brushing your nose against his. “You wanna keep going?”
A small, breathless gasp leaves his lips, his body trembling above you.
“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I don’t think I can stop.”
He shifts slightly, hips pressing forward again, sinking deeper, still so sensitive, still shivering from his last orgasm. A soft, gasping moan spills from his lips, his fingers curling around your waist.
“You said you wanted everything,” he breathes, voice shaking, forehead pressing against yours.
His hips roll forward, slow but insistent.
“Let me give it to you.”
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧 (BEWAREEEE)
Jungwon was trying to get some work done.
But no—you were being a spoiled little brat, sitting in his lap, cockwarming him like it was nothing, wiggling every few minutes, sighing dramatically while he pretended to ignore the way your walls squeezed around him every single time you shifted.
He tried.
Tried so hard to keep his focus, to type, to pretend that he wasn’t throbbing inside you, to act like he wasn’t just barely holding it together, until you spread your legs.
Until you dragged one of his busy hands off his keyboard, guided it down between your thighs, pressed his fingers against your swollen, needy clit.
His entire body tensed, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, his fingers twitching against your heat.
“Baby.” His voice was low, warning, already strained. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, breath hot, desperate, completely ruining him.
“Jungwon, please,” you whined, shifting slightly, feeling his cock press even deeper inside you. “Just give me a baby.”
His fingers tightened on your waist, his breath came out in a slow, sharp exhale, and his laptop screen went black as he slammed it shut.
“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, gripping your hips, pulling you down fully onto him, forcing a gasping moan from your lips.
But you didn’t care.
Didn’t care that he was fed up, that his patience had snapped, that he was trying so hard to stay in control.
Because your brain had already turned to mush, because you were so full, so stretched, so perfectly stuffed with his cock that you could feel him pushing against the walls of your stomach.
You wanted more.
“I wanna get pregnant again as soon as I give you one baby,” you gasped, your fingers trailing down your stomach, pressing against the bulge that was forming there, where his cock was stretching you open so perfectly.
Jungwon’s eyes snapped down to where your hand rested over your belly.
His cock twitched inside you, hard, needy, responding to every single word that fell from your mouth.
“You’re already stuffed full of me, and you’re still talking?” he growled, rolling his hips forward, sharp, deep, making you whimper.
But you wouldn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop.
Didn’t want to stop.
“I wanna be pregnant all the time,” you babbled, completely gone, rocking yourself onto him, feeling every inch drag along your sensitive walls. “I wanna push out quadruplets just so you can fuck me full again right after. Wanna—wanna be dripping with your cum all the time, Jungwon, wanna be permanently wet for you, wanna plug myself up with your cock so none of it leaks out—”
Jungwon sucked in a sharp breath, groaning deep in his chest, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as he gritted his teeth.
“You don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
You shook your head, whining, rolling your hips, your own hand slipping between your legs, pressing against your clit, rubbing messy little circles as you shuddered.
“Won’t stop,” you gasped, tilting your head to whisper against his jaw. “Not until you fuck me hard enough that you push your cum in so deep I'm sticky inside. Not until I’m so full I start leaking just from walking. Not until I have no choice but to plug it back in with my fingers because I can’t let a drop go to waste—”
His hands clamped down on your thighs, locking you in place, his breathing ragged, his entire body trembling beneath you.
“Keep talking,” he ordered, voice rough, barely restrained, something almost unhinged.
His hips snapped up into you, deep, sharp, over and over, your body jerking from the force, from the overstimulation, from the heat building inside you so fast it was making you dizzy.
But you still wouldn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop.
“Jungwon—oh my God, Jungwon, I wanna be pregnant so bad, I want all of your babies, I want to always be full, always be leaking, always— Fuck me so hard you'd turn one baby into triplets wouldn't you?”
His pace turned brutal.
No more teasing. No more patience. No more self-control.
“You wanna be fucked stupid, huh?” he growled, pulling you forward, pressing you flush against his chest, his voice hot and sharp in your ear.
You nodded frantically, sobbing out broken little moans, still rubbing at your clit, still rocking onto him, completely fucking insatiable.
“I’ll make sure it takes,” he muttered, grinding up into you, so deep you could feel him pressing against your stomach again. “I’ll fuck you so full you won’t even be able to think about anything else—”
His hands slid back down to your belly, pressing against the bulge, feeling where he was stretching you open.
“You feel that?” he groaned, digging his fingers into the soft flesh there, pressing against himself inside you.
Your body tensed, toes curling, every muscle trembling.
“That’s where I’m gonna pump you full. Right here, baby. That’s where I’m gonna make you a mommy.”
You let out a shattered cry, body clenching around him, pleasure crashing over you so violently your vision went white.
“Jungwon, oh my God, oh my God, I wanna be breastfeeding to newborns while you’re still fucking a third one right back into me, fuck i wanna be so full with you all the time my pussy permanently tastes like your cum please,” you babbled
He moaned, loud, ragged, desperate.
With one final, deep, ruthless thrust, pressing as far inside you as he could go, he spilled inside you.
Thick. Hot. Filling you completely, just like you begged for.
His fingers dug into your hips, his breath hitched, his body trembled beneath you, his lips parting in a wrecked little gasp.
But you weren’t done.
Couldn’t be done.
Would never be done.
You shuddered against him, whimpering, clenching around his cock, feeling the mess dripping out of you, feeling the heat of his release spreading through your stomach.
But it wasn’t enough.
Never enough.
“You can’t let any of it go to waste,” you panted, brain completely melted, fingers curling against his chest. “Jungwon, please, please.”
His head snapped up, eyes wild, hair damp, chest rising and falling in sharp, heaving breaths.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, shoving his fingers inside you, pushing his cum back in.
Your breath caught, body jerking, a high, wrecked sob escaping your throat.
“You wanted it, baby,” he murmured, voice dark, teasing, dripping with something possessive. “Wanted me to breed you, right? You’re gonna take every last drop.”
His lips brushed against your ear, his fingers sliding deeper.
“I won’t stop until you’re carrying my baby.”
𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢
Riki doesn’t know when to stop.
Or, more accurately—he knows, but he doesn’t care.
He likes pushing you past your limits, watching you squirm, watching your body tremble from the sheer amount of pleasure he’s forcing you to take.
Right now, you’re under him, barely coherent, already so spent, so weak, so fucking wrecked, but he just grins down at you, completely unbothered, completely unaffected.
“You crying already, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth, teasing, so infuriatingly calm despite the way you’re falling apart.
You whimper, shaking your head even though tears are slipping down your cheeks, your entire body trembling beneath him.
Riki just laughs, soft and taunting, dragging his fingers down your stomach, feeling how your muscles twitch under his touch.
“Too bad,” he hums, adjusting his grip on your hips, tilting them up just slightly, making you feel every inch of him. “I’m not done yet.”
You let out a wrecked sob, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your mind too foggy, too overwhelmed, too overstimulated to form words.
His lips curl into a slow, lazy grin, fingers pressing against your trembling thighs, feeling the way they shake beneath his touch.
“You can take more,” he murmurs, his tone mocking, saccharine sweet, but underneath it, there’s something darker, something hungrier.
You try to shake your head, try to beg, try to push him away, but he just tuts, clicking his tongue.
“You say that,” he smirks, dragging a finger down your cheek, wiping away a tear, then bringing it to his lips, sucking it off like he actually enjoys the taste of your desperation. “But your body’s telling me something else.”
His hips snap forward, rough, slow, deep, forcing another gasping cry from your lips.
Your back arches off the bed, your head falling back, your breath leaving you in ragged, broken little sobs.
“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he groans, watching the way your body reacts, watching the way you squirm beneath him.
His fingers trail down, brushing over your sensitive clit, pressing down just slightly.
You flinch violently, a wrecked whimper leaving your lips, your thighs snapping shut on instinct.
Riki just grins, grabbing your legs, forcing them open again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he murmurs, voice mocking, condescending, so fucking entertained by how wrecked you are. “None of that. You wanted this, remember? You wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. How am I meant to fuck a baby into you if you’re behaving this way, honey?”
You shake your head frantically, breath catching, words slurring together as you try to plead with him.
“N-no, Riki—”
He tilts his head, eyes dark, completely unfazed.
“Sweetheart, I don’t remember giving you a choice.”
His fingers rub slow, lazy circles over your clit, his cock pressing even deeper, making your entire body jerk, making you cry out, making you twitch uncontrollably from the overwhelming sensation.
Tears slip down your cheeks, your breath coming in sharp, gasping sobs, your body trembling. He laughs, breathless and taunting, voice dripping with amusement.
“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his tongue along your jaw, pressing hot, teasing kisses against your throat. “You look so fucking good like this. Can’t even fight it anymore, can you?”
Your hands grip at his arms, weak, useless, just barely managing to keep hold of him as your vision goes hazy.
He leans in, lips brushing against your ear, voice low and dark and impossibly cruel.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispers, dragging his tongue along your earlobe, his fingers circling your overstimulated clit with cruel precision. “Give me one more.”
You let out a shattered cry, your body arching, shaking, breaking, pleasure tearing through you so violently it feels like you’re coming apart at the seams.
Your vision blurs, white-hot heat flooding through your veins, waves of ecstasy crashing over you so hard you swear you stop breathing.
Riki just grins, his voice soft, teasing, drenched in satisfaction.
“See? Told you you could take more.”
Your body twitches, trembles, shudders against him, your limbs limp, your mind blank, completely and utterly spent.
Riki clicks his tongue, watching the way you struggle to even keep your eyes open.
“Not passing out on me yet, are you?” His voice is mocking, amused, but underneath it, there’s something almost… affectionate.
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