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is that true ?

[taebinlvr]

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val , she , 20 | taesan & soobin ult | for txt and boynextdoor <3 | fb from @stareintoyourpicture

໑ rules . ໑ masterlist . ໑ req : open ໑ newest work : centimeters (c.soobin)

[heemunch]

gamer!soobin ☆ ──꒰ ✉️ ꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ c.sb

HEADCANON 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 dating a man who’s obsessed over you and league of legends is probably the best thing that’s happened to you. smut 18+

gamer!soobin who fucks you harder each night every time he loses a ranked game of league of legends.

gamer!soobin who “loses” matches on purpose just to hear you whimper whenever he carries you and pins you down onto the bed as punishment

gamer!soobin where you have to disconnect the wifi entirely so he pays attention to you, but he doesn’t complain.

gamer!soobin who lets you dryhump him, suck him off, play with his dick—whatever you want to do—while he’s on the game. he has to turn off his mic every other game because his moans are so loud, you two aren’t sure how you haven’t gotten a noise complaint.

gamer!soobin who only unplugs his headset when you ride him in silence. he loves hearing your sweet wet noises against him, how hard you clench around him when you try to suppress your moans against his neck.

gamer!soobin who turns off his mic when you’re sucking him off, and when you’re done, his teammates wonder why he suddenly sounds so wrecked mid-match

gamer!soobin whose bed is always unmade because he can’t wait five seconds to pull your clothes off before climbing over you.

gamer!soobin whose hands roam your thighs during ranked matches, fingertips pressing just hard enough to leave marks later—how much he loves when you squirm when he digs in too deep.

gamer!soobin who loves to finger you like CRAZY. especially with those big veiny hands of his. he likes to hear you cry, get overstimulated, and whimper his name while he’s marking you all over

gamer!soobin whose fingers slide into your pussy before he even finishes a match. he likes it when his mechanical keyboard gets messy all over with your fluids.

gamer!soobin who makes you cum on command just so he can hear the way his name flutters on your tongue during his ranked games.

gamer!soobin whose sweatpants are always tented because you keep teasing him while he’s trying to focus on clutching a 1v5.

gamer!soobin who leaves hickeys along your collarbone just so his teammates can slightly hear you gasp every time they ping for help.

gamer!soobin who keeps a stash of lube in his drawer, right next to his set up just in case inspiration strikes you mid-queue

gamer!soobin who always tells his friends he needs a bathroom break, knowing that he only called it because he wanted to do a quickie with you.

gamer!soobin who eventually stopped getting on as often to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of you to stretch you wide enough for his size. taehyun texts him every night asking when he’s going to get on, but he’s way too busy with you to answer.

gamer!soobin whose bought three different bed frames since you guys started dating, each one louder and flimsier than the last.

gamer!soobin who overstimulates you because you squirt all over his fingers before he can even get inside of you. he loves to get his fingers soaked, and christ—you can barely even handle two.

© 5-53pm. all rights reserved 🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮ 2025

[dearjiwon]

SCARED OF THE DARK? ──── choi soobin.

── .✦ (🍂) you didn’t expect your halloween sleepover with soobin to end in terror just like the movies, but when his mask comes off and he’s inside you, the real surprise is who ghostface really was.

pairing: ghostface!soobin x fwb!reader

word count: 5.1k

"content warning 18+ [ MDNI! ], switch!soobin, fem reader, big dick ghostface!soobin, fearplay?, reader gets chased by soobin, fwb!soobin, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding, rough sex,”

the air smelled faintly of cinnamon and melted caramel, your tiny apartment lit up in soft, flickering oranges from the lights you’d stuck to every surface. halloween had always been your favorite.

not for the costumes, not for the candy, but for the excuse to be warm with someone else under dim lights and horror movie noise, the night curling in around you like a blanket, thick and humming with the possibility of something else.

and tonight, that something else was soobin.

he’d texted he was arriving to your place soon, so you slipped the popcorn into the microwave and adjusted your too-big hoodie down your thighs. it was his. not gifted—stolen. months ago.

maybe the first night you two crossed the line between sleepover friends and people who knew what the other looked like bare in low light, skin flushed, breathy, and too quiet from holding back sounds you weren’t supposed to make.

it was always like that with him. quiet. tender. confusing.

you never asked if he stayed the night because he wanted to or because it was just easier. but he never rushed to leave, and he always looked at you a second longer than necessary when he thought you weren’t watching.

a knock on your door interuptted your train of thought. you quickly padded over, unlocked the door, and there he was.

soobin was standing there, messy hair falling over his eyes and a plastic bag swinging from one wrist. he had on that big black jacket you liked, zipped only halfway, revealing a stupid shirt that said “otaku.”

you grinned. “you look dumb.”

“you look like you’re about to fall asleep in the middle of our movie,” he shot back, stepping in, eyes dragging down your body just briefly enough to notice you were in his hoodie. he didn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

you rolled your eyes and took the bag he was holding. “what is this?”

“junk,” he said, toeing off his shoes. “red vines. ghost peeps. sour bats. and, uh—” he glanced at you sheepishly, “that weird popcorn flavour you like.”

you paused and turned to look at him. “you remembered?” soobin shrugged. “you talk a lot.” still, your cheeks warmed as you moved to the couch, dumping the snacks onto the table and clicking the tv on.

he settled in beside you, just like always. legs slightly parted, arms loose on either side, never touching unless you leaned first. his presence filled the room even when he was quiet. especially then.

you sat close. not enough to draw attention to it, but enough that you could feel the warmth of his thigh against yours. you pretended to be focused on the opening credits, on the flickering flashes of a retro horror title card and the hum of a synth-heavy score.

but it was hard to focus, because he was here. and he smelled sweet. he always looked good in soft light. and something about tonight felt different, even if neither of you had said anything.

halfway through the movie, your head drifted onto his shoulder. soobin didn’t flinch. didn’t say anything. he just breathed a little deeper, then tilted his head slightly until it rested on yours.

“you okay?” he murmured, voice soft. “just comfy,” you whispered back, sighing softly in contentment.

his shoulder was warm. you could feel the faint thud of his heartbeat beneath the hoodie fabric. the tv kept playing—some masked killer chasing a girl through the woods—but the only thing you noticed was how his fingers brushed your knee as he reached for the popcorn.

you don’t know how long you stayed like that, warm and quiet, lulled by the sound of soft screaming and the weight of his presence beside you.

until soobin stretched suddenly, yawning into his sleeve. “going to the bathroom,” he muttered, already pushing himself up. the blanket fell away from both of you as he stood.

he scratched at his neck, his hoodie riding up just slightly, exposing a sliver of pale skin and the waistband of his sweats. you looked away before he caught you staring.

the hallway light clicked on for a second, then off again. the bathroom door shut with a quiet thud. and then it was just you.

the room felt colder without him, even though the blanket still covered your legs and the tv still played, flickering shadows against the far wall. you shifted in your seat, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body, trying not to feel weird about being alone in your own home.

but the feeling settled in anyway. like something was off.

a few minutes of almost complete silence passed by, save for the tv playing faintly in the background. you look around the room, waiting impaitently as a feeling of anxiety bloomed in your chest.

and that’s when you noticed it.

the hallway light that had flicked on earlier, soft yellow bleeding out from beneath the bathroom door—was off. no glow, no hum, just darkness. you squinted toward it, waiting for the sound of running water or the scrape of the sink turning on. but there was nothing. no footsteps, no flush, no creak of the door opening again. just stillness, thick and pressing, like the walls were holding their breath.

you checked the time. it had only been a few minutes. maybe he was just taking his time. maybe he’d gotten distracted. maybe he was scrolling on his phone like he always did, mindlessly watching videos with the sound off. you stared at the dark hallway anyway, your stomach tightening without reason.

and then your phone lit up. you jumped without realizing, wondering why you suddenly felt so afraid. the screen glared back at you in the dim room. unknown caller.

no contact photo. no number. just those words glowing in stark white, perfectly centered like it was meant to be seen. you hesitated. your thumb hovered above the red decline button, heart thudding now for reasons you didn’t understand yet. but something made you answer. curiosity, impulse, maybe something deeper.

the call connected, and at first there was simple silence. not the kind that comes from a bad signal. not the awkward kind from someone unsure of what to say. this silence felt intentional, like someone was waiting for you to speak first.

“…hello?” your voice came out too small, barely above a whisper. you cleared your throat again. “uhh...hello?”

then, a breath started, long and steady. your mouth went dry.

“soobin, if this is some stupid joke, it’s not funny.” you tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out right. the air around you felt thinner somehow. the sound of the movie blurred behind you into white noise, too loud, too distorted.

the voice that finally answered wasn’t his. “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you went still. this was such a stupid joke.

the voice was strange—mechanical but not robotic, filtered like it had been dragged through static and stitched back together. it wasn’t monotone. it had inflection. playfulness. like whoever was on the other end enjoyed asking the question.

your fingers tightened around the blanket. “not funny,” you said again, firmer this time, even though your body had already started to betray you—goosebumps rising along your arms, heartbeat skipping. “seriously, stop.”

“he left you alone.” the words slid through the speaker like oil. slow. deliberate. they didn’t sound like a question.

you stood without realizing it, your legs moving before your brain caught up. the blanket fell from your lap and pooled around your ankles. the tv screen flickered behind you, washing the walls in dull blue.

“who is this?” you asked. your voice was shaking now. you didn’t try to fix it.

“he’s not in the bathroom anymore.” the voice on the other line said, and you stopped breathing.

your gaze snapped toward the hallway. the darkness there suddenly looked heavier, as if something could be standing just beyond the threshold, watching. you took a step forward, then back, unsure.

“you should check,” the voice purred. “go ahead. i’ll wait.” and your throat closed up at that.

“no,” you whispered. “fuck off.” and the line went dead. your phone screen returned to black.

you stared at your own reflection in the glossy glass for a second, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was echoing through your ribcage. then, almost without thinking, you began walking—slow, barefoot, the sound of the floor creaking under your weight far too loud in the suffocating silence.

you reached the bathroom door. there was no light, and no sound. your fingers curled around the doorknob. it was cold against your fingertips.

darkness met you inside, complete and total. you reached in with one hand, fumbling for the light switch, but your fingers brushed only cold tile and empty air.

the room was empty, and soobin wasn’t there anymore.

you stepped back fast, your shoulder hitting the hallway wall. your breath came quick and uneven now, panic crawling up the back of your neck. you turned in a slow circle, scanning the space—the closed windows, the locked door, the empty corners of your living room. everything looked the same, and yet, nothing felt right.

then the tv shut off behind you. it didn’t fade or flicker or buzz like a loose connection—it cut, like someone had ripped the cord from the wall. a sudden, bone-deep silence collapsed over the room. you sat frozen in its wake, blinking into the darkness that followed, your eyes struggling to adjust as the faint, familiar glow that had lit the space just seconds ago vanished.

the apartment was plunged into thick, suffocating quiet. no hum of static. no echoing screams. no soft music cues that had made the horror feel manageable, fake, contained. now it was just you and the dark.

you stayed still for too long. too scared to move. too scared not to.

you shifted slightly, the couch cushions creaking beneath you, and it was in that movement that you realized how loud everything had become. the fabric brushing your skin. the faint tremble in your breath. even the clock on the wall, ticking away with each second like a countdown.

you reached for your phone with shaking fingers. the screen lit your face in a harsh blue glow, and for a moment, the light felt like salvation. but as you looked down—your breath caught.

you had a new text. “still scared of the dark?”

you didn’t think. you didn’t breathe. your fingers trembled over the screen. the message wasn’t from a contact. no number. just those words.

then your phone vibrated again. this time, a call, unknown caller.

you stared. the ringing cut through the quiet like a blade. you shouldn’t answer, every part of your body told you not to. and yet—your thumb moved.

at first, only silence. but not empty. it was the kind of silence that felt watched. like something was on the line, close enough to hear your breath.

your voice cracked. “who the fuck is this?” you managed.

“you look cute when you’re scared.” the voice said. you stood up too fast. the coffee table knocked into your shin, and you barely noticed.

“soobin, if this is you—” your voice shook. you hated how it shook. “i swear to god—”

a distorted chuckle started through the phone, like a laugh through broken glass.

“he’s not here anymore.” you turned to the hallway. still no light. still no sound.

the call then dropped and your phone screen went dark once again.

a soft knock started, but not from the front door, from inside. somewhere deeper in the apartment.

you stepped backward, slowly, your legs numb. the sound hadn’t come from the hallway. it had come from behind you. the kitchen. the closet. the space by the bookshelf—places you weren’t looking. places you never feared until now.

you turned toward the front door, and it was open. not wide, just slightly. a breath of cold air seeping through the gap. and that's when you saw him.

a man-shaped shadow swathed in black, tall and motionless beneath the dim ceiling light, the only thing that moved was the soft sway of fabric at his sides, robes trailing near his boots, like he had just stepped out from behind a curtain.

your breath stopped mid-inhale. your eyes—wide, burning, unblinking—fixed on the mask.

he tilted his head. just a little. slow and deliberate, and that’s when your body remembered what fear was.

a bolt of panic shot through your legs, nerves sparking to life like wires soaked in gasoline. you turned so fast your shoulder cracked against the wall, but you didn’t stop, didn’t breathe—only ran, feet slapping the hardwood, lungs scraping for air as you barreled toward the front door with blind desperation.

the room warped around you, your vision tunneling, the walls stretching like you were sprinting through a nightmare that refused to end.

you didn’t look back. you didn’t dare.

because some primitive part of you already knew—he was behind you. not from the sound of footsteps, because there were none. not from a breath or a whisper. just that feeling, like gravity had changed direction, like you were being pulled backwards by something heavy and unseen.

your fingers grazed the door handle—and then they were gone.

you barely registered the impact before your back was slammed into something solid, your breath knocked out of you like a punch to the chest.

arms locked around your waist, strong and fast, dragging you back with the efficiency of someone who knew exactly how to catch something running.

you screamed. it came out hoarse and ragged, your throat already raw with terror. your legs kicked uselessly, feet scrambling for traction as he yanked you away from the door, away from the one exit, away from everything you thought was safe.

your fingers clawed at anything—air, furniture, the wall—but he didn’t falter. he moved with purpose, with confidence, like he’d done this before, like he had planned this moment down to the breath.

you were thrown back onto the couch.

the cushions caught your fall but not gently—it was jarring, your limbs folding under you, hair falling in your eyes, heart slamming against your ribs like it was trying to escape your body entirely.

before you could recover, he was on top of you.

his knees bracketed your hips, one gloved hand pinning both your wrists above your head with ease. you thrashed beneath him, but it was useless, he didn’t move an inch.

the mask hovered over you. closer now.

your chest heaved under him, panic coming in shallow, gasping waves, as if the air was no longer yours to take.

he didn’t speak, he didn’t need to. every second stretched unbearably long, each heartbeat loud and sharp like a countdown to something you didn’t understand.

and then—he leaned in. just a few inches closer.

you could still feel his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the couch cushion like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. not violent, not rushed. just firm and confident, like he knew exactly how you’d move, how your body would react, what part of you would give in first.

the mask stayed in place as he hovered above you, chest rising and falling in deep, steady rhythm. your breath was jagged in contrast—fast, uneven, every inhale snagging in your throat as your brain tried to claw its way out of the chaos. but your body knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

because beneath the fear, beneath the adrenaline still roaring through your veins, you recognized him.

not all at once, but the way his hands fit around your wrists. the way his fingers flexed when they gripped you. the way he moved above you—not just with force, but familiarity. so familiar.

your legs shifted beneath him, your body arching slightly as you struggled—not to escape, but to get closer, and the second your hips pressed against his, the second you felt the way he rutted down, slow and instinctive, your whole world cracked open.

because you’d felt that before. countless times. in your bed. against your door. that one time in the backseat of his car. your mouth fell open, a strangled sound caught between disbelief and something darker, something needier.

“s-soobin…?”

you barely said it. just a whisper. a breath. like if you said it too loud, the illusion would shatter and something worse would replace it.

but then he laughed. not loud, just quiet, muffled behind the mask, like he couldn’t help it. “took you long enough.”

your blood ran cold and hot at once.

the pressure of his hips against yours returned in slow, rolling waves, like he was grinding down just to prove a point. and that point sank in fast—he wasn’t pretending. he wasn’t playing some prank. he knew what he was doing. all of it.

you could barely think. your heart slammed against your ribs, confusion and heat twisting inside you until your whole body trembled under him.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you breathed, but your voice betrayed you—too soft, too shaky, already melting beneath the weight of recognition.

he leaned in closer, gloved hand sliding down to your jaw, fingers brushing your cheek like he wanted to calm you. or claim you. maybe both.

you didn’t fully proccess that it was him until he pulled off his pants, and pushed into you, slowly, deeply, all the way. and your body went still beneath him.

it wasn’t just the stretch, though that alone made your breath catch, the way your walls gave around him inch by inch, like your body had been waiting for it. it was the way it felt familiar. achingly so. like your cunt knew exactly how to open for him, how to pulse and flutter as the thick weight of his cock sank deeper into you. there was no fumbling, no hesitation, just that perfect, measured slide, too big to take without gasping, too perfect to belong to anyone else.

you could feel the curve of it even before he bottomed out. it was him. it had to be him. that depth, that fullness — like he was splitting you open from the inside, filling every inch like he was meant to live there.

your back arched before you even realized it, thighs trembling as your cunt clenched tight around the stretch. he was barely moving, just letting you adjust, letting the weight of his cock settle deep inside like he was testing how much you could take.

his grip tightened at your waist, gloves discarded now, bare hands warm against your hips as he sank lower, pressing into you with the slow, devastating rhythm of someone who knew exactly what you needed. the mask stayed on. the hood had slipped back slightly, but that empty-eyed plastic face still stared down at you, unblinking, unreadable.

but his body gave him away.

the tension in his shoulders, the way he groaned low in his throat as your walls spasmed around him, the sound catching in the back of his throat like he wasn’t ready for how tight you were — it was all him. you knew that sound. you’d pulled it from him before, wrapped around him in the dark, making him sob against your neck as you squeezed him tight and whispered his name.

his hips began to move. not fast. not rough. just deep — unbearably deep — dragging out until only the swollen head remained inside, then sliding back in until your cunt hugged every thick inch of him, sucking him in like you never wanted him to leave.

you whimpered, overwhelmed.

he was so big it felt like too much, even though you’d had him before. but not like this. not masked. not anonymous. not while your heart was still racing from fear, your body still reeling from the adrenaline of being cornered and played with.

his breath stuttered above you.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked, muffled behind the mask. “you feel… f-fuck, you feel so good.”

his voice cracked at the end, like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. the pace didn’t change — still slow, still agonizing — but he was shaking now, the mask bumping lightly against your cheek as he pressed in deeper, impossibly deeper, like he was trying to fold himself into you.

“wanted this,” he whispered again, and you could feel his lips moving just behind the plastic. “wanted you… so fucking bad… you always mentioned that you liked things that give you adrenaline.”

the confession broke something open. your breath hitched, your body arching up to meet him, taking him deeper than you thought possible. his cock nudged a spot so far inside you it made your vision go white, made your mouth fall open without a sound, made your thighs quake around his waist.

he moaned again, higher this time, helpless. and his rhythm stuttered, just for a second. like he wasn’t sure if he could keep it together.

“you’re so tight,” he breathed. “so warm… fuck… m-made for me, i swear—”

his voice cracked again and he lost the rest in a quiet, shaky gasp, burying himself to the hilt and just holding there, pulsing deep inside you.

you could feel how badly he was holding back — his cock twitching with every clench of your walls, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs. he was babbling now, soft, frantic words that melted into each thrust like he couldn’t stop them if he tried.

“i love you,” he said, barely audible, like it hurt to admit. “i love you so much—i c-can’t—”

he choked on the words, voice shaking. your body squeezed around him without meaning to, and he gasped, thrusting in deeper again, like your cunt had just stolen the breath from his lungs.

his cock dragged along your walls with a thick, slick sound that made your spine shiver. every inch of him pressed in with precision.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, desperate now, pulling him closer. the mask was still on, but you could feel his desperation — the way his hips jerked just a little harder, the way his moans got softer and messier, the way his thrusts grew shallow and needy, like he was chasing something he didn’t want to catch yet.

your name slipped from his lips again, this time like a prayer, ragged and trembling.

“don’t wanna cum yet,” he whimpered. “wanna stay inside—wanna feel you… just like this… please—”

his pace faltered. you could feel his cock twitching, thick and heavy inside you, the tip pressing deep against that devastating spot again and again, and your cunt clenched tight in response.

his voice broke. “you make me feel—fuck—feel so full, so warm, so—fuck—” and then he came. it wasn’t loud. it wasn’t dramatic. just this soft, guttural whimper as his hips stilled, his cock buried deep, twitching with each thick pulse of cum that spilled into you.

his body collapsed against yours, trembling. the mask pressed against your cheek. his breath hitched and stuttered and broke against your skin, and you could feel the way he was trying not to cry.

he didn’t speak again. just held you there, still inside you, his cock softening only slightly, your cunt still clenching greedily around him like it didn’t want to let go.

and you didn’t either, but you were angry. you had been scared, really scared.

and now, looking up at the blank plastic of the mask still perched on his face, knowing the boy behind it loved you and still chose to scare you like this —

you felt something simmer under your skin.

“take it off,” you said.

his fingers hesitated, then lifted the mask.

soobin looked down at you — flushed, ruined, wet lashes and swollen lips, the most beautiful idiot you’d ever seen.

but he was still hard, still deep inside you, and you weren’t done with him, not even close.

“you think this is funny?” your voice was low, rough.

he blinked up at you, dazed and confused. still inside you, barely softening. still clinging to your hips like you might vanish.

“you scared me,” you snapped. his mouth opened, but no words came. just this little broken inhale, guilt dripping off of him in waves.

you shoved him, and his body hit the couch with a dull thud, limbs fumbling to brace himself as you climbed up over him, bare thighs straddling his hips before he could even process what was happening. the plastic costume was bunched around his waist now, cock flushed and wet with your slick and cum, sticking up against his stomach in the prettiest, filthiest curve.

still so hard, still so full. and you weren’t letting him waste it.

your hand wrapped around the base of him, fingers barely meeting as you guided him back between your thighs, watching his whole body jolt as the head brushed your soaked entrance. he was twitching already, hips trying to jerk up into your palm, but you pressed him flat against the cushions with a palm on his chest.

“no,” you said, voice sharp. “you don’t get to move. you’re gonna take it. just like i took your stupid little game.”

he whimpered — full body tremble, lashes fluttering, eyes already wet.

“i— i’m sorry,” he whispered, voice tight and wrecked. “please… please, i didn’t mean to—”

you sank down on his cock in one swift, brutal motion. his apology cut off into a broken cry.

his head tipped back against the couch, teeth biting into his bottom lip as your cunt took every inch, every thick, swollen ridge of him all at once. no slow easing this time. no softness. just the stretch — obscene and raw and full — swallowing him whole until your ass met his lap.

his body jerked under you. his hands scrambled for something to hold, one gripping the edge of the couch cushion, the other flying up to your waist like he was trying to steady himself.

but he couldn’t.

you were too tight, too wet, too furious — clenching down on him like your body wanted to punish him for what your heart couldn’t say.

his cock stretched you open in a way that bordered on cruel, the girth of him hitting too deep, pressing too thick against the sore ache already blooming inside you. your pussy throbbed around him with every breath, fluttering and pulsing, and you could feel the slick sound of your arousal coating him, the wet heat of your bodies slapping together as you began to ride him.

you set the pace — a ruthless rhythm that made the couch creak beneath you, made the muscles in your thighs burn with the force of it. you bounced on him hard, hips slamming down with each thrust, taking him to the hilt again and again like your body wanted to prove something.

his moans were high and sharp, caught in his throat like sobs.

his head fell back against the armrest, jaw slack, lashes fluttering like he couldn’t hold on anymore. your cunt squeezed around him with every throb, fluttering from the sheer stretch, struggling to adjust even as you forced him deeper, and you could feel how it made him twitch. his cock pulsed inside you like it didn’t know how to handle the pressure, like his body was already bracing to break.

his hands twitched at his sides, like he wanted to hold you, maybe slow you down, but the moment he tried, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the cushion beside his head, grinding your hips in a slow, tight circle while his breath shuddered beneath you.

you didn’t stop moving. you kept the pace, riding him with a brutal rhythm that made his body jerk under yours, that made the wet sound of your cunt echo against the walls, thick and obscene and soaked.

every time you came down on him, he filled you too much — too full, too deep, the pressure of him nudged against something swollen inside you, bruised from the first round and throbbing now with every thrust.

it made your thighs tremble. made your breath shake. made your fingers dig into his wrists like you needed to hold him there — to keep him from slipping away, from making this anything other than what it was.

you were punishing him, and his body knew it.

“a-ah… fuck, too much— wait— wait—”

he cried out again as you sank down harder, grinding your hips in a slow, tight circle before lifting up and dropping down again, making sure he felt every inch of it.

he was babbling already. soft, helpless, desperate.

“feels so good— s-so good, please— i’m sorry, i’m sorry— oh my god—”

his fingers dug into your waist, not to guide you, but to ground himself.

you leaned forward, hands braced on the couch back behind his head, angling your hips to take him deeper. his body arched under you.

the new angle made him hit something devastating — a spot so deep, so swollen from the first round that it sent a shockwave up your spine. your walls clenched around him again, drawing out another sob.

“nngh— i-it’s too much— c-can’t—”

but you knew he could. and you were going to make sure of it.

his hands dropped uselessly to the sides of the couch, fingers fisting the fabric as you rode him without mercy. he was crying now. real tears spilling down his cheeks, mouth open in a desperate, trembling moan as your pussy milked his cock without pause.

“g-gonna cum—” he sobbed. “fuck, fuck, i c-can’t— i’m gonna—”

you dropped down one last time, hard, and he shattered.

his whole body arched off the couch, hands flying to your waist again like he could hold you there, like he didn’t want to lose a single inch of contact.

his cock pulsed inside you violently — once, twice, then again — spilling hot and thick, the heat of it flooding your cunt as his body bucked beneath you.

he cried out, not loud, but sharp and strangled, and his face crumpled.

you ground down slowly, easing him through it, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lips part in a silent moan. every little movement made him twitch.

he looked so pretty like this, so fucked out, so small beneath you.

his cock softened inside you, leaking into the mess already dripping down your thighs, and he was still crying. tiny tears at the corners of his eyes, cheeks flushed red.

you leaned down, your body still wrapped around his, and brushed his hair back gently.

his arms went limp, and his eyes stayed shut. his breath was still coming in soft little hiccups.

you kissed his cheek. then his lips.

he whispered it again. “i love you.”

"soobin, i love you too. okay? you got me good there."

and for now, you forgave him. and kissed him slowly, wiping his tears away from his soft, pretty face.

a/n: heyy... guess who finally posted a fic again after months hehe!! so yes this is really rushed, so I apologize for any mistakes or if I dragged the fear bit too much. please totally leave a comment or a reblog, I appreciate all feedback or comments!! 💗

[dearjiwon]

EXTRA CREDIT ──── choi soobin.

── .✦ (🥥) who would've thought that a late night tutoring sesson with the schools biggest nerd, soobin, turned into a night even more exciting. turns out, he has an even bigger surprise than his brain.

pairing: big dick virgin!soobin x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k

"content warning 18+ [ MDNI! ], switch!soobin, fem reader, big dick virgin!soobin, nerdy dirty talk, he researched ab sex, nerd!soobin, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding, creampie, aftercare”

you invited him over because you were failing math.

there wasn’t anything romantic or flirtatious about it at first — just a silent cry for help written in red marker across your test papers, the kind of desperate slope only someone like choi soobin could pull you from.

he was quiet in class, but always had the right answers. you’d never seen him speak above a whisper, never seen him look anyone in the eye for more than a second, and yet he always left the lecture room with perfectly annotated notes and the air of someone who carried his self-worth in decimal points and weighted averages.

so you messaged him one night — a simple, “can u tutor me?” — and he agreed with alarming speed.

showed up three days later at your apartment like a boy heading into battle, papers in one hand and a mechanical pencil tucked behind his ear, even though you weren’t going to a classroom.

he barely spoke as he stepped inside, his oversized hoodie swallowing his frame and his backpack clutched so tightly in his hand you worried the strap might snap.

“hi,” he said, voice soft, and then added, “i brought… some topic breakdowns. just what i thought would be most helpful.”

you took the stack of papers from him, letting your fingers brush his as you did — just enough to make him freeze.

“thanks, soobin. you’re a lifesaver.”

“it’s no problem,” he replied, though his voice cracked a little halfway through, and he cleared his throat like it embarrassed him.

he stood awkwardly in the middle of your room until you gestured toward the bed. “we can work there. my desk’s a mess right now.”

he nodded too quickly, walking over with that stiff, careful posture that always made him look like he didn’t know what to do with his limbs.

he perched on the very edge of the mattress, knees pressed together, bag in his lap like a shield.

you were already sprawled out beside him, legs crossed, chin in your hand, flipping lazily through the printouts he brought. he’d highlighted things in different colors — pink for formulas, green for common mistakes, blue for examples — and even used sticky tabs to mark each section.

you smiled a little. “damn. you really prepped for this, huh?”

“i didn’t want to waste your time,” he said, not meeting your eyes. “i mean, you’re busy. i figured i should… y’know. make it count.”

your gaze lingered on his profile for a second — the soft curve of his cheek, the glasses sliding slightly down his nose, the way his lashes caught the light like they didn’t belong on a boy. “you’re cute when you’re nervous,” you said.

his ears flushed pink immediately, and he opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words.

instead, he ducked his head and pulled out a worksheet from his bag, mumbling something about “starting with derivatives.”

for a while, you worked. or at least, you tried to. he was focused, explaining things in his soft, careful voice, gesturing with a pen as he talked.

but the more you listened, the less you heard — your brain slowly replacing the numbers and variables with the warm hum of his voice, the gentle slope of his mouth, the way his fingers tapped the edge of the paper like he needed the rhythm to keep from spiraling.

you weren’t sure when it shifted.

maybe it was when he leaned in to correct your equation, his shoulder brushing yours, and didn’t pull away. maybe it was when your knees touched under the blankets, and neither of you moved. maybe it was the way the air felt heavier now — less like study session, more like waiting for something to happen.

soobin must’ve felt it too. his words started stumbling. he explained one formula three times and still got lost halfway through, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated.

his hand hovered a little too long when he passed you the pen. when your thighs pressed together again, he sucked in a breath and didn’t let it out for four seconds.

you turned slightly to face him, setting your notes aside. the room was quiet now.

just the soft tick of the wall clock and the low buzz of tension coiling between you like a wire being pulled tighter and tighter.

he was looking at your mouth.

you didn’t speak. neither did he. the moment didn’t need narration — it just hung there, charged, inevitable.

and then it snapped.

your lips met his like gravity had pulled them there — sudden, unspoken, too natural to be a mistake. his breath hitched immediately, eyes fluttering shut like a reflex.

he tasted like vanilla and nerves, soft and shaky against your mouth, and when your hand came up to cup his cheek, he made a sound, barely audible, like the beginning of a whimper, and leaned into it like he’d been waiting all night.

you deepened the kiss slowly, letting it unfold, letting him adjust. he responded with this aching softness, fumbling but eager, his fingers curling into the bedsheets like he didn’t trust himself to touch you yet.

he wasn’t practiced, his lips moved like he was still learning. but he kissed you like he meant it. like he felt it.

you pulled back just slightly, breath tangled with his, your foreheads nearly touching.

his eyes stayed shut and he swallowed hard. “is this okay?” he whispered.

you nodded, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek. “mmhm.”

he opened his eyes then, wide and vulnerable, and you could feel how hard he was trying to stay calm. how the tension in his shoulders hadn’t fully left. like he was waiting for the next step but terrified to ask for it.

but you didn’t rush. you just leaned in again, slower this time, and kissed him like there was nothing else you wanted to do tonight.

and this time, he kissed you back like he believed it.

but the kiss had unraveled something in both him and you.

he was still leaning into you like he hadn’t realized it was over, lips parted, breath catching at the edges, glasses slightly fogged from how close you’d been. you could see the color bleeding up his neck in slow-motion, creeping past his collar like his whole body was flushing from the inside out. he looked dazed. pink. utterly stunned.

you wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever been touched like this before.

but then he blinked, slow and heavy, and something in him cracked open.

he kissed you again, unsure, but full of need. like he’d been holding it back for too long. his hand twitched, then moved up — resting on your waist like he was afraid he’d break something, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt.

you climbed into his lap without thinking. not rushed. not performative. just a natural shift, a quiet surrender to gravity and tension and everything that had been simmering between you all evening.

he made a noise, sharp and startled when your weight settled on him, and his hands flew to your hips like instinct.

you could feel him underneath you already, half-hard and growing fast, and the realization sent a low throb through your stomach.

“fuck,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

you stilled. “hm?”

he looked horrified. “n-no, i mean— i wasn’t— that wasn’t—”

you tilted your head, amusement curling at your lips. “you okay, soobin?”

his throat bobbed. he didn’t answer. just stared at you like you were something holy and terrifying.

then, voice barely a whisper: “i’ve never done this before.”

you blinked. “like… never?”

he shook his head. “n-no. not even close.”

you felt your expression soften, and you leaned in to kiss him again, gentler this time. “you want to stop?”

he hesitated — not with fear, but with something more fragile. like he was trying to trust himself to speak.

“…no. i want to—” he paused, breath shaky. “i want to. just— it’s my first time, not my first time… knowing.”

you blinked again and chuckled slightly. “what?”

he turned bright red. “i… studied.”

you stared.

he flailed. “not in a weird way! i just— i didn’t want to be bad at it. s-so i read stuff. books. forums. diagrams— i even watched videos sometimes but only for like— like educational purposes—”

you blinked again. slowly. “…so you watched porn. like, for science.”

“i wanted to take notes,” he said, sounding genuinely defensive.

you laughed. couldn’t help it. he looked so earnest about it — like he’d genuinely sat down with a browser tab open and a pen in his hand, analyzing thrust angles.

“you’re unreal,” you said softly.

“i just didn’t want to disappoint anyone,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

you reached down and took his hand, guiding it under your shirt. he froze, mouth open slightly, and his fingertips trembled against the skin of your waist.

“you won’t,” you promised. “you’re already not.”

his breath hitched. he looked up at you like you’d just rewritten the rules of the universe.

you started to grind your hips, slowly, experimentally — not enough to overwhelm, just enough for friction.

just enough for your shorts to tug against his sweats and for the growing heat between you to become unmistakable.

and god, he was big.

you could feel it — not in a vague, flattering way, but in a real, holy-shit-how-are-you-expected-to-fit-inside-me way.

every roll of your hips brought him further into focus, your body reacting before your brain could even catch up. he was so hard already, twitching beneath you, and he hadn’t even touched you properly yet.

“s–shit,” he gasped, eyebrows scrunched. “this— this isn’t in the articles—”

you snorted. “what, grinding?”

“n-no— i mean— yes, but not— not like this—”

you kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing the way his voice caught in his throat. your hands pushed his hoodie up slowly, palms skimming over warm skin, and he shivered when you reached his chest.

he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. like every second of contact was tripping a wire in his system.

you whispered against his lips, “you’re gonna let me ride you, right?”

his eyes rolled back so fast it was almost funny. “god— y-yeah. anything. anything you want.”

you reached between you, slipping your hand under his waistband — and what you found made your breath stutter.

he was thick. heavy. the kind of size that made your thighs clench just imagining it. no wonder he’d studied. no wonder he was scared.

you looked at him, slightly stunned. “jesus christ, soobin.”

he blinked, confused. “w-what? is it— is it weird? i read that some people have curve—”

you cut him off with a kiss, messy and open-mouthed, and his hands clutched at your waist like he was trying not to fall off the earth.

“it’s big,” you muttered. “like… really fucking big.”

he made a sound you couldn’t describe — somewhere between a choke and a moan.

you stripped slow, teasing, sliding your shirt off and watching his eyes widen as more skin revealed itself.

he stared like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look. like he wanted to memorize it but felt guilty for trying.

you helped him out of his clothes next, pulling his hoodie over his head and tugging his sweats down far enough for him to spring free.

he gasped when the air hit him. flushed deep pink from tip to base. twitching slightly in time with his heartbeat.

and yeah. huge.

he tried to say something, but it came out garbled. you didn’t let him speak — just kissed him again, sweeter this time, pressing your body against his until he was whining into your mouth.

“lie back,” you whispered, and he did.

you climbed on top of him slowly, positioning yourself, and when the tip nudged against you, both of you gasped.

you took your time, letting him feel every inch of you — the stretch, the slide, the warmth — and his jaw dropped like it was all short-circuiting him.

“ohmygod,” he moaned, hands flying to your thighs. “ohmygod, it’s so warm— it’s— fuck—”

you bottomed out and paused, letting him breathe. he was gripping you like he was afraid he’d float away, eyes glassy, hips twitching up just barely.

“you okay?” you whispered, brushing his sweaty hair from his face.

he nodded, but he looked wrecked already.

“i-it’s so much,” he choked out. “i d-didn’t think it’d feel this good— i thought— i thought i’d last longer—”

you started moving, and he whimpered.

“oh— oh fuck—” he cried, head falling back against the pillow. “you’re s-so— it’s too good— oh god— i’m gonna— i’m—”

you weren’t even bouncing yet. just rolling your hips, slow and deep, letting his cock drag against every inch of your walls. his eyes fluttered, his chest heaved, and he let out a sound that didn’t even sound human.

“such a good boy,” you whispered, to which he moaned in response. the prettiest noises leaving his mouth as you praised him.

he couldn’t stop shaking underneath you. soobin was all heat and trembling muscle, wide eyes flickering open only to shut again in dazed desperation.

his chest heaved with every shallow breath, slick with sweat, lips parted in a silent plea as your hips rolled down again — slow, deliberate, like you were memorizing the way he stretched you open.

his hands had settled at your waist, not gripping, not guiding — just holding, fingers splayed across your skin like he didn’t want to forget the shape of you. like he wasn’t sure this was real.

every time your cunt dragged down his cock, his stomach fluttered, tightening like a wire being wound tighter and tighter with no end in sight.

he was deep. impossibly so. every inch of him filled you, pressed inside with this perfect fullness that made your vision blur. the curve of his cock nudged something devastating with each movement, and yet the stretch never dulled — not even as your walls grew slicker, your legs trembling from the slow pace.

you rode him with patience. not because you needed to go slow — but because he looked so wrecked.

his eyes glassy, his thighs twitching, mouth caught in a half-moan that never made it out. his expression was nothing short of reverent. overwhelmed. ruined.

you leaned over him, skin sliding against his as your hands braced at either side of his chest. the shift made your angle deeper, pulled a broken sound from his throat that made your core throb.

he tried to lift his hips, just a little, just to chase the feeling, but he couldn’t get the rhythm right, too stunned, too overstimulated, too caught up in the sheer reality of you.

the head of his cock dragged against your walls again, and your mouth fell open with a gasp — because he filled every inch, every curve, as if he was shaped for you alone. he was pulsing inside you already, and you hadn’t even given him permission to move yet.

his hands twitched, your body ached for more, and so you let him.

you shifted, just barely — lifting your hips until only the thick head remained inside you, holding there for a breathless second, watching his jaw slacken as if he’d lost something vital — and then you dropped down again, full weight, taking him all the way in one smooth thrust.

his back arched.

the sound that broke from him was nothing short of guttural — low and soft and strangled at the edges, like he didn’t know what to do with the sensation.

“mmh, i-it… it feels so good… don’t stop… please”

his fingers finally tightened on your hips, not hard, just grounding — and you felt him thrust up.

it was shaky. clumsy. but the strength behind it was unmistakable. he met your next roll with a sharp buck of his hips, and it landed deep, sudden, deliciously raw. your breath caught. his face contorted, eyes fluttering closed, lips trembling.

he did it again. and again.

beneath you, soobin moved like he didn’t even know he could. the soft whimpering boy who’d watched porn for research was gone — replaced by something unfiltered, frantic.

he thrust up into you with so much need, so much pure instinct, that you nearly collapsed against his chest.

he was so warm. so deep. every time you sank back down on his cock, it filled you to the hilt. every motion sending waves of heat through your spine, your stomach, your lungs.

you clenched around him without meaning to — too full, too sensitive — and he gasped like he’d been punched, arms tightening around your waist. he sounded like he was breaking. like it was too much.

you rolled your hips down hard, once, and he cried out.

not loud. not dramatic. just this fragile, broken sob of pleasure that slipped out past gritted teeth as he tried to keep fucking you through it. tried to keep his pace even as his body started failing him.

he was close. you could feel it. his whole body trembling beneath you, stomach fluttering, cock twitching deep inside like he was aching to let go.

“w-wait… im gonna cum… p-please… don’t stop…”you ground down harder, deeper, faster — and he fell apart.

his hips jolted once, then twice, then lost all rhythm. his cock pulsed violently inside you, and then you felt it — thick, hot, the warmth of him spilling into you as his body seized and shuddered.

he buried his face in your neck, arms clinging to you like a lifeline, thighs shaking uncontrollably beneath yours as he came.

every pulse of his cock pushed his cum deeper, filled you more, the mess gathering between your thighs like he couldn’t help it.

his breath hitched, his mouth opened against your skin, and then the tiniest sob escaped — cracked and soft and overwhelmed.

he was crying again.

you held him through it, rocking your hips just slightly to ease him through the aftershocks. he twitched inside you, whimpering, helpless beneath the weight of it all. his hands gripped you like you’d disappear.

his cock throbbed inside you, overstimulated and soaked in your slick, and he just kept whimpering.

you pulled back to look at him.

his eyes were glassy, unfocused. his cheeks damp. he looked like he’d been cracked open from the inside out.

you leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then finally his lips — soft and slow, grounding him.

his voice was barely there. “i— i didn’t mean to—”

you shushed him. “you did perfect.”

his lashes fluttered. his arms loosened. his body finally relaxed beneath you, sinking into the mattress, flushed and tear-streaked and filled to the brim.

he looked at you again, and you held his cheek. “you wanna go again?” you said, brushing your thumb across his face, catching a tear that fell earlier.

he nodded slowly, and he was still inside you when he started to move again.

his cock hadn’t even softened fully—still thick, still flushed a deep pink at the base, still twitching inside you from the overstimulation, but now he was shifting, testing, thinking through the daze. and that was the moment you knew, he wasn’t done.

his breath still caught every time your walls clenched, but he was moving—hips subtly lifting, grinding into you in soft, sticky rolls. the cum from his first release had made everything slick, slippery, messy—your thighs wet, your inner walls coated.

he was still nestled so deep you could feel him twitch against your cervix, and when he pulled back a few inches, a broken gasp slipped from your lips.

he froze, like he didn’t expect that sound. you felt his hands tighten at your waist.

“…i wanna try something,” he whispered.

before you could ask, he pulled out with a soft squelch, and you both moaned at the loss. but he didn’t waste time—didn’t even stop to overthink it—he just reached for you and flipped you, slow but firm, until your cheek was pressed against the pillow and your back arched, hips raised just enough.

you turned to glance over your shoulder, heart thudding.

soobin was flushed all the way down to his chest, hair stuck to his forehead, lips pink and parted—but his eyes had sharpened. still soft. still shy. but there was something new there now.

something focused.

his hand settled on your lower back, then drifted down to your ass, squeezing once like he was testing a theory. when he spoke again, his voice was low. almost dazed. “theoretically… this angle should stimulate the anterior wall more consistently.”

you blinked.

“…are you quoting a textbook right now?”

he pushed back in without warning—one slow, gliding thrust, his cock stretching you open again with a wet slide—and you choked on your own breath.

the stretch burned now, fucked-out and sore, but god, he felt so full. the second his hips pressed flush to yours, you felt your arms go weak.

“yeah,” he whispered. “i read about this. from the back, hips raised… it’s supposed to— oh fuck—”

he started moving before he could finish the sentence.

his thrusts were deeper this time. not rough, not fast—intentional. heavy. every motion angled slightly upward, every roll of his hips hitting that same devastating spot, over and over again.

you realized—somewhere between gasping into the sheets and gripping the pillowcase like it might save you—that he meant to do that.

“feels… right?” he panted, voice breathless. “am i… hitting it right?”

you couldn’t speak. could barely even moan. your body was melting around him, dripping slick and cum with every push, your mind already fraying at the edges from how deep he was.

his cock dragged against your walls with obscene precision—too precise, like he was adjusting his angle mid-thrust to line up with your reactions.

every time your thighs trembled, he leaned in further. every time you gasped, he whispered a frantic, “there—like that?” and did it again.

“fuck,” you managed, voice hoarse. “you— god, you feel so fucking good—”

he moaned behind you, and then his fingers curled around your hips to pull you back onto him harder.

the pace stuttered for a moment, but when he found it again, it was relentless. sloppier now, louder. the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, each thrust jostling you further up the bed.

“read once,” he gasped, “that the g-spot’s like… five centimeters in… angled toward the belly button—f-fuck, wait—”

he adjusted again, slightly upward, and this time you cried out, legs buckling beneath you.

“there,” he whispered. “t-there it is. fuck.”

your entire body clenched. he felt it, gasped again, and leaned over you. now his chest was against your back, his breath warm and fast against your ear, hips still pistoning into you as he pressed you down with the weight of his body.

“you’re so—tight,” he breathed. “s-so warm— i can’t— i c-can’t stop—”

you weren’t stopping him.

your brain had shut off halfway through his nerdy monologue, somewhere between “g-spot location” and “angle of friction”. all you knew now was the way his cock dragged against your walls, the obscene squelch of your mixed arousal leaking down your thighs, the sound of his voice trembling as he kept going, even as his rhythm began to falter.

you could feel him close again. his thrusts started to stutter—less controlled, more desperate.

every breath came out choked. his grip on your hips turned vice-like, and his weight pressed you harder into the mattress.

“g-gonna cum again,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “inside, please, i can’t— i want— fuck, please—”

you let him. you even tightened around him on purpose. and that broke him.

his hips slammed forward one final time—deep and hard, burying himself to the hilt—and then he snapped, groaning into your shoulder as he came again, harder this time.

hot and messy, cock twitching wildly as his cum spilled out in thick spurts, dripping back down your thighs with every shudder.

he didn’t move for a long moment. just panted against your neck, body trembling, arms around you like a blanket.

still buried deep, still twitching from the aftershocks, still too full of sensation to pull out.

you were shaking too. used. sore. stuffed.

he kissed the back of your shoulder, then your spine. slow, reverent.

“…did i do good?” he asked softly, voice hoarse and breathless.

you turned your head enough to look at him.

he was flushed. swollen. smiling—barely.

you cupped his cheek, pulled him down into a kiss, and let him melt into you again.

you didn’t move for a while.

your body felt… gelatinous. boneless. like you’d been poured out, reshaped, and forgotten on warm sheets.

your thighs were trembling, too slick to close properly, your breath still shallow as you stared blankly at the headboard, brain empty except for the faint memory of being absolutely ruined.

and behind you—still pressed close, still inside—you could feel him twitching softly. Soobin’s arm was curled around your waist, his forehead damp against your shoulder, and his chest rose and fell in uneven waves as he tried to catch his breath.

“…i think i broke you,” he whispered.

his voice was so soft, so tentative, that you let out a shaky laugh despite yourself.

“maybe just… a little,” you mumbled, voice hoarse.

he didn’t respond right away. just let out a breath that was almost a whimper, and very slowly, he pulled out.

the sound was obscene—wet and slow and too much. his cum spilled out in thick, creamy rivulets, already smeared down your inner thighs, soaking the backs of your legs and your sheets.

he groaned under his breath the second he saw it, like even looking was too much for his nervous system to handle.

“oh my god,” he said, eyes wide. “i—fuck, i didn’t mean to—there’s just—so much—”

you flopped onto your back with a wince and watched him sit up on shaky legs, completely naked, flushed red from head to toe, hair a mess. his dick was still red and slightly twitching, glistening at the tip from whatever hadn’t managed to stay inside you.

he scrambled for his hoodie, dragging it on clumsily and then half-tripping as he grabbed his backpack off the floor.

“d-don’t move,” he babbled. “i’ve got—uh—one sec—”

you blinked. “soobin… what are you doing.”

he held up a pack of wet wipes.

“…why do you have those?” you asked.

he looked mortified. “i-it’s for glasses! and, um. keyboard dust.”

but he was already kneeling between your legs, gingerly nudging them apart with the back of his hand.

his face flushed impossibly deeper at the sight—your swollen folds, the sheer amount of cum, the fact that he put it there.

you watched his throat bob as he took a breath and started cleaning you.

gently, carefully.

he touched you like you might break, using slow, soothing strokes, barely applying pressure.

when the wipe brushed over your entrance and another trail of cum spilled out, he made a tiny noise in his throat and mumbled, “oh my god—i’m so sorry—”

you couldn’t stop smiling, too wrecked to be shy, too full of affection to care. “you’re apologizing for fucking me now?”

“i-i just—i should’ve warned you. or slowed down. or—” he paused, looking deeply concerned, “—maybe done a few more warmup exercises—”

you reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping the endless spiral of his thoughts. “soobin.”

he froze. eyes wide.

“you were perfect.”

he blinked, like you’d just told him he aced an exam he forgot to study for.

“…r-really?”

“really.” you tugged him closer. “come here.”

he climbed onto the bed clumsily and wrapped his arms around you.

you let your head rest on his shoulder, body melting into the warmth of him as his fingertips gently traced circles over your spine.

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. then your cheek. then, with shaky hesitation, to your lips.

“…you feel okay?” he murmured against your mouth.

“sore,” you admitted. “but in a good way.”

his ears went pink. “i didn’t think it’d… i mean, you were so tight, and i thought—i mean, i calculated it before, but actually being inside—”

you laughed again, too tired to tease him. “soobin.”

he looked at you, dazed and flushed and in love with you, probably.

you kissed him again.

and this time, he smiled against your lips. soft. warm. nerdy.

“…can i write about this in my notes?” he asked suddenly, like he couldn’t help it.

and you burst out laughing.

[taebinlvr]

hiii

things are in the works i pinky promise

[dearjiwon]

EXTRA CREDIT ──── choi soobin.

── .✦ (🥥) who would've thought that a late night tutoring sesson with the schools biggest nerd, soobin, turned into a night even more exciting. turns out, he has an even bigger surprise than his brain.

pairing: big dick virgin!soobin x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k

"content warning 18+ [ MDNI! ], switch!soobin, fem reader, big dick virgin!soobin, nerdy dirty talk, he researched ab sex, nerd!soobin, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding, creampie, aftercare”

you invited him over because you were failing math.

there wasn’t anything romantic or flirtatious about it at first — just a silent cry for help written in red marker across your test papers, the kind of desperate slope only someone like choi soobin could pull you from.

he was quiet in class, but always had the right answers. you’d never seen him speak above a whisper, never seen him look anyone in the eye for more than a second, and yet he always left the lecture room with perfectly annotated notes and the air of someone who carried his self-worth in decimal points and weighted averages.

so you messaged him one night — a simple, “can u tutor me?” — and he agreed with alarming speed.

showed up three days later at your apartment like a boy heading into battle, papers in one hand and a mechanical pencil tucked behind his ear, even though you weren’t going to a classroom.

he barely spoke as he stepped inside, his oversized hoodie swallowing his frame and his backpack clutched so tightly in his hand you worried the strap might snap.

“hi,” he said, voice soft, and then added, “i brought… some topic breakdowns. just what i thought would be most helpful.”

you took the stack of papers from him, letting your fingers brush his as you did — just enough to make him freeze.

“thanks, soobin. you’re a lifesaver.”

“it’s no problem,” he replied, though his voice cracked a little halfway through, and he cleared his throat like it embarrassed him.

he stood awkwardly in the middle of your room until you gestured toward the bed. “we can work there. my desk’s a mess right now.”

he nodded too quickly, walking over with that stiff, careful posture that always made him look like he didn’t know what to do with his limbs.

he perched on the very edge of the mattress, knees pressed together, bag in his lap like a shield.

you were already sprawled out beside him, legs crossed, chin in your hand, flipping lazily through the printouts he brought. he’d highlighted things in different colors — pink for formulas, green for common mistakes, blue for examples — and even used sticky tabs to mark each section.

you smiled a little. “damn. you really prepped for this, huh?”

“i didn’t want to waste your time,” he said, not meeting your eyes. “i mean, you’re busy. i figured i should… y’know. make it count.”

your gaze lingered on his profile for a second — the soft curve of his cheek, the glasses sliding slightly down his nose, the way his lashes caught the light like they didn’t belong on a boy. “you’re cute when you’re nervous,” you said.

his ears flushed pink immediately, and he opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words.

instead, he ducked his head and pulled out a worksheet from his bag, mumbling something about “starting with derivatives.”

for a while, you worked. or at least, you tried to. he was focused, explaining things in his soft, careful voice, gesturing with a pen as he talked.

but the more you listened, the less you heard — your brain slowly replacing the numbers and variables with the warm hum of his voice, the gentle slope of his mouth, the way his fingers tapped the edge of the paper like he needed the rhythm to keep from spiraling.

you weren’t sure when it shifted.

maybe it was when he leaned in to correct your equation, his shoulder brushing yours, and didn’t pull away. maybe it was when your knees touched under the blankets, and neither of you moved. maybe it was the way the air felt heavier now — less like study session, more like waiting for something to happen.

soobin must’ve felt it too. his words started stumbling. he explained one formula three times and still got lost halfway through, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated.

his hand hovered a little too long when he passed you the pen. when your thighs pressed together again, he sucked in a breath and didn’t let it out for four seconds.

you turned slightly to face him, setting your notes aside. the room was quiet now.

just the soft tick of the wall clock and the low buzz of tension coiling between you like a wire being pulled tighter and tighter.

he was looking at your mouth.

you didn’t speak. neither did he. the moment didn’t need narration — it just hung there, charged, inevitable.

and then it snapped.

your lips met his like gravity had pulled them there — sudden, unspoken, too natural to be a mistake. his breath hitched immediately, eyes fluttering shut like a reflex.

he tasted like vanilla and nerves, soft and shaky against your mouth, and when your hand came up to cup his cheek, he made a sound, barely audible, like the beginning of a whimper, and leaned into it like he’d been waiting all night.

you deepened the kiss slowly, letting it unfold, letting him adjust. he responded with this aching softness, fumbling but eager, his fingers curling into the bedsheets like he didn’t trust himself to touch you yet.

he wasn’t practiced, his lips moved like he was still learning. but he kissed you like he meant it. like he felt it.

you pulled back just slightly, breath tangled with his, your foreheads nearly touching.

his eyes stayed shut and he swallowed hard. “is this okay?” he whispered.

you nodded, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek. “mmhm.”

he opened his eyes then, wide and vulnerable, and you could feel how hard he was trying to stay calm. how the tension in his shoulders hadn’t fully left. like he was waiting for the next step but terrified to ask for it.

but you didn’t rush. you just leaned in again, slower this time, and kissed him like there was nothing else you wanted to do tonight.

and this time, he kissed you back like he believed it.

but the kiss had unraveled something in both him and you.

he was still leaning into you like he hadn’t realized it was over, lips parted, breath catching at the edges, glasses slightly fogged from how close you’d been. you could see the color bleeding up his neck in slow-motion, creeping past his collar like his whole body was flushing from the inside out. he looked dazed. pink. utterly stunned.

you wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever been touched like this before.

but then he blinked, slow and heavy, and something in him cracked open.

he kissed you again, unsure, but full of need. like he’d been holding it back for too long. his hand twitched, then moved up — resting on your waist like he was afraid he’d break something, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt.

you climbed into his lap without thinking. not rushed. not performative. just a natural shift, a quiet surrender to gravity and tension and everything that had been simmering between you all evening.

he made a noise, sharp and startled when your weight settled on him, and his hands flew to your hips like instinct.

you could feel him underneath you already, half-hard and growing fast, and the realization sent a low throb through your stomach.

“fuck,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

you stilled. “hm?”

he looked horrified. “n-no, i mean— i wasn’t— that wasn’t—”

you tilted your head, amusement curling at your lips. “you okay, soobin?”

his throat bobbed. he didn’t answer. just stared at you like you were something holy and terrifying.

then, voice barely a whisper: “i’ve never done this before.”

you blinked. “like… never?”

he shook his head. “n-no. not even close.”

you felt your expression soften, and you leaned in to kiss him again, gentler this time. “you want to stop?”

he hesitated — not with fear, but with something more fragile. like he was trying to trust himself to speak.

“…no. i want to—” he paused, breath shaky. “i want to. just— it’s my first time, not my first time… knowing.”

you blinked again and chuckled slightly. “what?”

he turned bright red. “i… studied.”

you stared.

he flailed. “not in a weird way! i just— i didn’t want to be bad at it. s-so i read stuff. books. forums. diagrams— i even watched videos sometimes but only for like— like educational purposes—”

you blinked again. slowly. “…so you watched porn. like, for science.”

“i wanted to take notes,” he said, sounding genuinely defensive.

you laughed. couldn’t help it. he looked so earnest about it — like he’d genuinely sat down with a browser tab open and a pen in his hand, analyzing thrust angles.

“you’re unreal,” you said softly.

“i just didn’t want to disappoint anyone,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

you reached down and took his hand, guiding it under your shirt. he froze, mouth open slightly, and his fingertips trembled against the skin of your waist.

“you won’t,” you promised. “you’re already not.”

his breath hitched. he looked up at you like you’d just rewritten the rules of the universe.

you started to grind your hips, slowly, experimentally — not enough to overwhelm, just enough for friction.

just enough for your shorts to tug against his sweats and for the growing heat between you to become unmistakable.

and god, he was big.

you could feel it — not in a vague, flattering way, but in a real, holy-shit-how-are-you-expected-to-fit-inside-me way.

every roll of your hips brought him further into focus, your body reacting before your brain could even catch up. he was so hard already, twitching beneath you, and he hadn’t even touched you properly yet.

“s–shit,” he gasped, eyebrows scrunched. “this— this isn’t in the articles—”

you snorted. “what, grinding?”

“n-no— i mean— yes, but not— not like this—”

you kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing the way his voice caught in his throat. your hands pushed his hoodie up slowly, palms skimming over warm skin, and he shivered when you reached his chest.

he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. like every second of contact was tripping a wire in his system.

you whispered against his lips, “you’re gonna let me ride you, right?”

his eyes rolled back so fast it was almost funny. “god— y-yeah. anything. anything you want.”

you reached between you, slipping your hand under his waistband — and what you found made your breath stutter.

he was thick. heavy. the kind of size that made your thighs clench just imagining it. no wonder he’d studied. no wonder he was scared.

you looked at him, slightly stunned. “jesus christ, soobin.”

he blinked, confused. “w-what? is it— is it weird? i read that some people have curve—”

you cut him off with a kiss, messy and open-mouthed, and his hands clutched at your waist like he was trying not to fall off the earth.

“it’s big,” you muttered. “like… really fucking big.”

he made a sound you couldn’t describe — somewhere between a choke and a moan.

you stripped slow, teasing, sliding your shirt off and watching his eyes widen as more skin revealed itself.

he stared like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look. like he wanted to memorize it but felt guilty for trying.

you helped him out of his clothes next, pulling his hoodie over his head and tugging his sweats down far enough for him to spring free.

he gasped when the air hit him. flushed deep pink from tip to base. twitching slightly in time with his heartbeat.

and yeah. huge.

he tried to say something, but it came out garbled. you didn’t let him speak — just kissed him again, sweeter this time, pressing your body against his until he was whining into your mouth.

“lie back,” you whispered, and he did.

you climbed on top of him slowly, positioning yourself, and when the tip nudged against you, both of you gasped.

you took your time, letting him feel every inch of you — the stretch, the slide, the warmth — and his jaw dropped like it was all short-circuiting him.

“ohmygod,” he moaned, hands flying to your thighs. “ohmygod, it’s so warm— it’s— fuck—”

you bottomed out and paused, letting him breathe. he was gripping you like he was afraid he’d float away, eyes glassy, hips twitching up just barely.

“you okay?” you whispered, brushing his sweaty hair from his face.

he nodded, but he looked wrecked already.

“i-it’s so much,” he choked out. “i d-didn’t think it’d feel this good— i thought— i thought i’d last longer—”

you started moving, and he whimpered.

“oh— oh fuck—” he cried, head falling back against the pillow. “you’re s-so— it’s too good— oh god— i’m gonna— i’m—”

you weren’t even bouncing yet. just rolling your hips, slow and deep, letting his cock drag against every inch of your walls. his eyes fluttered, his chest heaved, and he let out a sound that didn’t even sound human.

“such a good boy,” you whispered, to which he moaned in response. the prettiest noises leaving his mouth as you praised him.

he couldn’t stop shaking underneath you. soobin was all heat and trembling muscle, wide eyes flickering open only to shut again in dazed desperation.

his chest heaved with every shallow breath, slick with sweat, lips parted in a silent plea as your hips rolled down again — slow, deliberate, like you were memorizing the way he stretched you open.

his hands had settled at your waist, not gripping, not guiding — just holding, fingers splayed across your skin like he didn’t want to forget the shape of you. like he wasn’t sure this was real.

every time your cunt dragged down his cock, his stomach fluttered, tightening like a wire being wound tighter and tighter with no end in sight.

he was deep. impossibly so. every inch of him filled you, pressed inside with this perfect fullness that made your vision blur. the curve of his cock nudged something devastating with each movement, and yet the stretch never dulled — not even as your walls grew slicker, your legs trembling from the slow pace.

you rode him with patience. not because you needed to go slow — but because he looked so wrecked.

his eyes glassy, his thighs twitching, mouth caught in a half-moan that never made it out. his expression was nothing short of reverent. overwhelmed. ruined.

you leaned over him, skin sliding against his as your hands braced at either side of his chest. the shift made your angle deeper, pulled a broken sound from his throat that made your core throb.

he tried to lift his hips, just a little, just to chase the feeling, but he couldn’t get the rhythm right, too stunned, too overstimulated, too caught up in the sheer reality of you.

the head of his cock dragged against your walls again, and your mouth fell open with a gasp — because he filled every inch, every curve, as if he was shaped for you alone. he was pulsing inside you already, and you hadn’t even given him permission to move yet.

his hands twitched, your body ached for more, and so you let him.

you shifted, just barely — lifting your hips until only the thick head remained inside you, holding there for a breathless second, watching his jaw slacken as if he’d lost something vital — and then you dropped down again, full weight, taking him all the way in one smooth thrust.

his back arched.

the sound that broke from him was nothing short of guttural — low and soft and strangled at the edges, like he didn’t know what to do with the sensation.

“mmh, i-it… it feels so good… don’t stop… please”

his fingers finally tightened on your hips, not hard, just grounding — and you felt him thrust up.

it was shaky. clumsy. but the strength behind it was unmistakable. he met your next roll with a sharp buck of his hips, and it landed deep, sudden, deliciously raw. your breath caught. his face contorted, eyes fluttering closed, lips trembling.

he did it again. and again.

beneath you, soobin moved like he didn’t even know he could. the soft whimpering boy who’d watched porn for research was gone — replaced by something unfiltered, frantic.

he thrust up into you with so much need, so much pure instinct, that you nearly collapsed against his chest.

he was so warm. so deep. every time you sank back down on his cock, it filled you to the hilt. every motion sending waves of heat through your spine, your stomach, your lungs.

you clenched around him without meaning to — too full, too sensitive — and he gasped like he’d been punched, arms tightening around your waist. he sounded like he was breaking. like it was too much.

you rolled your hips down hard, once, and he cried out.

not loud. not dramatic. just this fragile, broken sob of pleasure that slipped out past gritted teeth as he tried to keep fucking you through it. tried to keep his pace even as his body started failing him.

he was close. you could feel it. his whole body trembling beneath you, stomach fluttering, cock twitching deep inside like he was aching to let go.

“w-wait… im gonna cum… p-please… don’t stop…”you ground down harder, deeper, faster — and he fell apart.

his hips jolted once, then twice, then lost all rhythm. his cock pulsed violently inside you, and then you felt it — thick, hot, the warmth of him spilling into you as his body seized and shuddered.

he buried his face in your neck, arms clinging to you like a lifeline, thighs shaking uncontrollably beneath yours as he came.

every pulse of his cock pushed his cum deeper, filled you more, the mess gathering between your thighs like he couldn’t help it.

his breath hitched, his mouth opened against your skin, and then the tiniest sob escaped — cracked and soft and overwhelmed.

he was crying again.

you held him through it, rocking your hips just slightly to ease him through the aftershocks. he twitched inside you, whimpering, helpless beneath the weight of it all. his hands gripped you like you’d disappear.

his cock throbbed inside you, overstimulated and soaked in your slick, and he just kept whimpering.

you pulled back to look at him.

his eyes were glassy, unfocused. his cheeks damp. he looked like he’d been cracked open from the inside out.

you leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then finally his lips — soft and slow, grounding him.

his voice was barely there. “i— i didn’t mean to—”

you shushed him. “you did perfect.”

his lashes fluttered. his arms loosened. his body finally relaxed beneath you, sinking into the mattress, flushed and tear-streaked and filled to the brim.

he looked at you again, and you held his cheek. “you wanna go again?” you said, brushing your thumb across his face, catching a tear that fell earlier.

he nodded slowly, and he was still inside you when he started to move again.

his cock hadn’t even softened fully—still thick, still flushed a deep pink at the base, still twitching inside you from the overstimulation, but now he was shifting, testing, thinking through the daze. and that was the moment you knew, he wasn’t done.

his breath still caught every time your walls clenched, but he was moving—hips subtly lifting, grinding into you in soft, sticky rolls. the cum from his first release had made everything slick, slippery, messy—your thighs wet, your inner walls coated.

he was still nestled so deep you could feel him twitch against your cervix, and when he pulled back a few inches, a broken gasp slipped from your lips.

he froze, like he didn’t expect that sound. you felt his hands tighten at your waist.

“…i wanna try something,” he whispered.

before you could ask, he pulled out with a soft squelch, and you both moaned at the loss. but he didn’t waste time—didn’t even stop to overthink it—he just reached for you and flipped you, slow but firm, until your cheek was pressed against the pillow and your back arched, hips raised just enough.

you turned to glance over your shoulder, heart thudding.

soobin was flushed all the way down to his chest, hair stuck to his forehead, lips pink and parted—but his eyes had sharpened. still soft. still shy. but there was something new there now.

something focused.

his hand settled on your lower back, then drifted down to your ass, squeezing once like he was testing a theory. when he spoke again, his voice was low. almost dazed. “theoretically… this angle should stimulate the anterior wall more consistently.”

you blinked.

“…are you quoting a textbook right now?”

he pushed back in without warning—one slow, gliding thrust, his cock stretching you open again with a wet slide—and you choked on your own breath.

the stretch burned now, fucked-out and sore, but god, he felt so full. the second his hips pressed flush to yours, you felt your arms go weak.

“yeah,” he whispered. “i read about this. from the back, hips raised… it’s supposed to— oh fuck—”

he started moving before he could finish the sentence.

his thrusts were deeper this time. not rough, not fast—intentional. heavy. every motion angled slightly upward, every roll of his hips hitting that same devastating spot, over and over again.

you realized—somewhere between gasping into the sheets and gripping the pillowcase like it might save you—that he meant to do that.

“feels… right?” he panted, voice breathless. “am i… hitting it right?”

you couldn’t speak. could barely even moan. your body was melting around him, dripping slick and cum with every push, your mind already fraying at the edges from how deep he was.

his cock dragged against your walls with obscene precision—too precise, like he was adjusting his angle mid-thrust to line up with your reactions.

every time your thighs trembled, he leaned in further. every time you gasped, he whispered a frantic, “there—like that?” and did it again.

“fuck,” you managed, voice hoarse. “you— god, you feel so fucking good—”

he moaned behind you, and then his fingers curled around your hips to pull you back onto him harder.

the pace stuttered for a moment, but when he found it again, it was relentless. sloppier now, louder. the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, each thrust jostling you further up the bed.

“read once,” he gasped, “that the g-spot’s like… five centimeters in… angled toward the belly button—f-fuck, wait—”

he adjusted again, slightly upward, and this time you cried out, legs buckling beneath you.

“there,” he whispered. “t-there it is. fuck.”

your entire body clenched. he felt it, gasped again, and leaned over you. now his chest was against your back, his breath warm and fast against your ear, hips still pistoning into you as he pressed you down with the weight of his body.

“you’re so—tight,” he breathed. “s-so warm— i can’t— i c-can’t stop—”

you weren’t stopping him.

your brain had shut off halfway through his nerdy monologue, somewhere between “g-spot location” and “angle of friction”. all you knew now was the way his cock dragged against your walls, the obscene squelch of your mixed arousal leaking down your thighs, the sound of his voice trembling as he kept going, even as his rhythm began to falter.

you could feel him close again. his thrusts started to stutter—less controlled, more desperate.

every breath came out choked. his grip on your hips turned vice-like, and his weight pressed you harder into the mattress.

“g-gonna cum again,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “inside, please, i can’t— i want— fuck, please—”

you let him. you even tightened around him on purpose. and that broke him.

his hips slammed forward one final time—deep and hard, burying himself to the hilt—and then he snapped, groaning into your shoulder as he came again, harder this time.

hot and messy, cock twitching wildly as his cum spilled out in thick spurts, dripping back down your thighs with every shudder.

he didn’t move for a long moment. just panted against your neck, body trembling, arms around you like a blanket.

still buried deep, still twitching from the aftershocks, still too full of sensation to pull out.

you were shaking too. used. sore. stuffed.

he kissed the back of your shoulder, then your spine. slow, reverent.

“…did i do good?” he asked softly, voice hoarse and breathless.

you turned your head enough to look at him.

he was flushed. swollen. smiling—barely.

you cupped his cheek, pulled him down into a kiss, and let him melt into you again.

you didn’t move for a while.

your body felt… gelatinous. boneless. like you’d been poured out, reshaped, and forgotten on warm sheets.

your thighs were trembling, too slick to close properly, your breath still shallow as you stared blankly at the headboard, brain empty except for the faint memory of being absolutely ruined.

and behind you—still pressed close, still inside—you could feel him twitching softly. Soobin’s arm was curled around your waist, his forehead damp against your shoulder, and his chest rose and fell in uneven waves as he tried to catch his breath.

“…i think i broke you,” he whispered.

his voice was so soft, so tentative, that you let out a shaky laugh despite yourself.

“maybe just… a little,” you mumbled, voice hoarse.

he didn’t respond right away. just let out a breath that was almost a whimper, and very slowly, he pulled out.

the sound was obscene—wet and slow and too much. his cum spilled out in thick, creamy rivulets, already smeared down your inner thighs, soaking the backs of your legs and your sheets.

he groaned under his breath the second he saw it, like even looking was too much for his nervous system to handle.

“oh my god,” he said, eyes wide. “i—fuck, i didn’t mean to—there’s just—so much—”

you flopped onto your back with a wince and watched him sit up on shaky legs, completely naked, flushed red from head to toe, hair a mess. his dick was still red and slightly twitching, glistening at the tip from whatever hadn’t managed to stay inside you.

he scrambled for his hoodie, dragging it on clumsily and then half-tripping as he grabbed his backpack off the floor.

“d-don’t move,” he babbled. “i’ve got—uh—one sec—”

you blinked. “soobin… what are you doing.”

he held up a pack of wet wipes.

“…why do you have those?” you asked.

he looked mortified. “i-it’s for glasses! and, um. keyboard dust.”

but he was already kneeling between your legs, gingerly nudging them apart with the back of his hand.

his face flushed impossibly deeper at the sight—your swollen folds, the sheer amount of cum, the fact that he put it there.

you watched his throat bob as he took a breath and started cleaning you.

gently, carefully.

he touched you like you might break, using slow, soothing strokes, barely applying pressure.

when the wipe brushed over your entrance and another trail of cum spilled out, he made a tiny noise in his throat and mumbled, “oh my god—i’m so sorry—”

you couldn’t stop smiling, too wrecked to be shy, too full of affection to care. “you’re apologizing for fucking me now?”

“i-i just—i should’ve warned you. or slowed down. or—” he paused, looking deeply concerned, “—maybe done a few more warmup exercises—”

you reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping the endless spiral of his thoughts. “soobin.”

he froze. eyes wide.

“you were perfect.”

he blinked, like you’d just told him he aced an exam he forgot to study for.

“…r-really?”

“really.” you tugged him closer. “come here.”

he climbed onto the bed clumsily and wrapped his arms around you.

you let your head rest on his shoulder, body melting into the warmth of him as his fingertips gently traced circles over your spine.

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. then your cheek. then, with shaky hesitation, to your lips.

“…you feel okay?” he murmured against your mouth.

“sore,” you admitted. “but in a good way.”

his ears went pink. “i didn’t think it’d… i mean, you were so tight, and i thought—i mean, i calculated it before, but actually being inside—”

you laughed again, too tired to tease him. “soobin.”

he looked at you, dazed and flushed and in love with you, probably.

you kissed him again.

and this time, he smiled against your lips. soft. warm. nerdy.

“…can i write about this in my notes?” he asked suddenly, like he couldn’t help it.

and you burst out laughing.

[luvhoyeony]

⋆˙♡ TEASE — C.B.G.

SUMMARY ˚ . Waking up to your boyfriend horny wasn't an uncommon occurrence, and neither was you two having morning sex. What was was the new kink that came out of it today. Who knew he was into that? WARNINGS ˚ . Morning sex, giving & recieving minor degradation (uses of slut & whore), praise, breeding kink W/C ˚ . 3.4k

This is what heaven is, you think, thoughts tainted by your pretty boyfriend whose pressed up behind you under the covers. His soft breathing against your neck that tells you he's fast asleep.

The bulge in his sweatpants says otherwise. How could he have your thighs pressed together impossibly tight even in his sleep? So unfair, the control you let him have over you.

"Gyu...?" You murmur, unaware of whether his silence was really from being asleep or not. But you know he wouldn't be able to go this long without snickering or teasing the situation. He must've really been asleep. A wet dream, maybe?

It wasn't like this was an uncommon occurrence. He claimed it happened this much even before you two got together, but you're unsure of the truth in that. You personally prefer the idea that it was you that got him like this—unable to control himself, like some horny teenager when he got around you.

"Gyu..." You more than coo now, shifting to glance back at him. It's hard when his head only buries further in your neck as he slowly presses harder against you with a muffled hum.

While you loved the idea of him having a nice dream, and hated ruining the fantasy, you had to for your own sake. Otherwise, you'd be pouncing on him rather than softly nudging him up.

The soft nudges on his hands wrapped around your waist seems to ease him out of his rest, instinctively tightening his grip on you and pressing closer before he knew he was doing so.

"Mm..." Beomgyu trails off, head lifting slowly to look at you through sleepy eyes, gaze barely peeking through his long lashes, "why'd you wake me up? Way too early..."

It's bordering on 11 in the morning, but you choose not to press it. You know he's just looking for something to disagree on for the fun of it. He'd say it's early, when just yesterday he would say otherwise. Anything to bicker, with him.

"I could feel you, babe." You murmur, a hand reaching back to fix his hair. Mostly just to get his bangs out of his eyes, "you're killing me, you know that?"

"Mm. Not my fault you have such a hot boyfriend you can't control yourself around." He murmurs, that low voice present. You loved when he'd wake up and that familiar accent slips, that lower, stronger dialect you'd hear when he speaks in his hometown with his family. Maybe you shouldn't associate such a heartwarming thing with how hot he was in the mornings.

"Says you. You can't even control yourself in your sleep. I was surprised you didn't do more, honestly." You quip back, scratching at his scalp in that way he keens for. Like a puppy. It quiets his teasing, if not for just a moment.

"Shut up..." Your boyfriend huffs, unable to think of something better to say when he's so sleepy and so pent up at the same time. That and your hands in his hair making his heart warm.

Instead of the usual "make me" you'd give on any other occasion, you instead turn in bed to face him. They're soft, the hands he draws to your waist to keep hold of you. He's soft.

"Just fuck me already." You instead retort back, playfully. He scoffs before huffing a small laugh.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Would you not?

"...Fair. Turn back around."

He murmurs that against the skin of your neck, kissing it gently before trying to force you to turn over himself. It's light, the way he manhandles you, but it doesn't go unappreciated.

With a soft giggle at his behavior, you turn back around in the plush of the bed to where you were previously facing. His hands take hold of your hips as he presses himself back up against you, before essentially moaning at the feeling.

"You're such a menace." His voice hitches when you press back against him in return, hearing how his breathing quivers and he tries to maintain the little composure he still had.

"Yeah, yeah," you huff softly. The smile on your lips is small but apparent, and he just snorts at the sight before kissing and nipping at the nape of your neck. It has your own breath hitching.

"You have too much on." He complains, trying to tug at your top with one hand as the other tries to get your shorts down. Needy, and more so, impatient. "Take them off. Everything."

"One at a time." You tease back, hearing him groan in mock frustration. Though, he listens, tugging at your shorts to get them down off your legs. He opts for cupping your breast from under your shirt. Or, to be exact, his shirt.

"Fuck, you're so sexy." He purrs, slowly rolling his hips against your ass. You have half the mind to quip back that he can't even see you. That you're under the covers. But you don't.

He brings his hand on your hip down to play with the waistlines of your panties, before floating his hand under. The way his hands move are practiced from how much you've done this. One hand on your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. The other hand running through the slick of your pussy, trying to work you up just enough as he avoids your clit.

"Think you could take me without me even prepping you, baby?" He murmurs, teasing your entrance, "I think so. You're such a whore for me, I think you could."

You softly sigh at his touch. Not enough to moan, but enough to feel a little relief to just be touched by your boyfriend. Spare his teasing, degrading words, he's so gentle with you. It's a stark but welcome contrast—just enough to teeter on the line.

"I think you're just too lazy to prep me." You reply, returning the teasing. He huffs a little, trying not to pout.

"I am not lazy. I'm conserving time. Isn't that important? The sooner we start, the longer we can take." His voice is high, trying to defend himself. He finally brings his hand up to your clit, as if to prove a point. He was giving in, wasn't he?

Soft circles on your clit have you relaxing against the bed, back to your boyfriend's chest as you battle whether to grind back against the bulge in his sweatpants or forward into his hand. You settle into a rhythm of both, rocking your hips back and forth. His hips twitch against yours, as he whines.

"Keep doing that, it feels good," he breathes out, fingers halting to a stop for a moment as he tries to gather himself.

"Hypocrite." You mumble, "keep going..." You reach for his wrist, trying to encourage him.

"I'm trying not to cum in my pants, thank you very much. Give me a minute." He breathes out. You playfully press back against him and hear him moan, before gripping your hip. He whines again, "stop, you're being unfair..."

After a few seconds, he brings his hand back down to your clit as he circles a little faster. You're caught off guard by the suddenness of it, whimpering as you buck your hips forward.

"Gyu..." You plead, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder as he looks down at you like you're the only thing in the world.

"Still think I could fuck you without any prep, you're so wet." He murmurs, kissing at your neck as he gently slips your panties to the side. It's just enough for his middle and ring finger to ease into your pussy, past your entrance, as he tries to gauge how well you could take him right now.

"...Maybe a little." He corrects himself quietly as he curls his fingers, gently grazing that spot you're so familiar with. He's done this so much he doesn't even have to think twice to find it unlike when you'd first had sex. You love the easiness that comes with familiarity.

His fingers part in a scissoring motion, making you close your eyes tight initially at the feeling. While you know you could take him, take his cock, you know he'd rather die than risk you aching for even a second from the stretch of it. Because, in his words, he's too big, he doesn't blame you.

Despite your eyes being tightly wound shut, you wanna roll your eyes at the memory. Instead, you roll your eyes at how he presses the palm of his hand down to grind it against your clit as he fingers you. It's not enough to get you off, but enough to replace the throbbing, aching feeling that resided there before.

"You're such a whore for me." He spreads his fingers more, making your eyes shut tighter.

"Says you." You huff back. In the moment, it's all you can think to say as he continues ramming his fingers in your pussy. "You're so—fuck, Beomgyu—" you cry out.

You're abruptly cut off by his cock pressing through his boxers against your entrance, making the both of you shudder and react. You gasping softly, him lowly moaning.

"Fuck, can I put it in yet?" He asks, almost pleadingly. The role of dominance constantly flips between the both of you in a way you don't think you'll ever get over.

All he needs is a soft nod as he draws both hands off your body and immediately on to getting his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs just enough to grab his cock—he didn't have time for anything more.

He gently rubs it through your pussy, never pressing in, instead fucking it as if he were in already. He practically shudders, precum beading at the head of his cock as he holds onto your love handles like he was holding on for dear life.

"Such a slut." You playfully murmur, trying to mask your own horniness as to not let him use it against you.

"You're lucky. If we were in any other position, fuck, I would be able to reach your clit better. Like when I tap it on your clit." He manages out, through sharp breaths and brief pauses for his little gasps. "You practically lose yourself when I do that."

"...Still a slut." You repeat, looking up at him. He draws his lower lip between his teeth. You smile as if you've won.

Instead, he takes hold of your inner thigh—the one not pressed in the bed, bending your leg at the knee as he props it up to give you both some space. It makes for a better angle, pussy spread a little better, your back to his chest, and... Oh, fuck.

He gently pushes his cock in to the hilt, silencing you almost immediately. All you can get out is little gasps and breaths as you try and adjust to how big he is, the girth, but also the length. The curve of his cock perfectly grazes your g-spot everytime he moves in and out, and you yearn for it.

"Oh my god, baby—" You choke out quietly, feeling him use one hand to prop himself as the other wraps around your waist. It only proves to press you two closer together, and him deeper.

Oh, but he's no better. A choked out moan as he bottoms out, hands tightening around your waist, his face buried in your neck as his messy hair brushes against your cheek. It's perfect, seeing him unfold before you've even started.

"Keep doing that and I'll think you've cum just from putting it in." You joke, catching your breath, shrugging the blanket off the two of you. It's hot, too hot, suffocatingly so.

"Shut up." He mumbles as his cock twitches inside you. He fucks forward into you a little more, as if trying to see just how deep he can get inside of you without moving out an inch.

The moment of breathing has you focusing on anything else as to not get too worked up too fast. The guitar propped up against the closet, his computer setup in the corner, a pile of his hoodies he has yet to put away. All that on top of the things in the room that are yours, combined with his. The record player, the records that line the shelf below it. It's a perfect example of how well you two mix together. Just like now.

He finally pulls out before rolling his hips back into you, letting out a quiet moan. He's at a loss for words, but you're no better. All you can do is wait for him to gather himself, because you know you're in for it when he does.

"I love you, you know that?" Your boyfriend slowly fucks in and out of you, the stretch of his cock familiar. Everytime, you swear you can feel everything, more than he could know. Every vein that lined him, the soft curve, the way the head of his cock catches on your entrance—seriously, everything.

"How does it feel?" He asks you, hips unwavering. It seems he's stepped out of his teasing mode and back into loving boyfriend mode, judging by his words and the gentleness of them.

"...Harder." You nod back softly, trying to communicate your needs. He seems to get the idea.

He finally starts a harder pace, the sheets bunching around you two as he starts fucking you. Not faster, but harder. Pulling out until the head of his cock nearly slips out of your entrance, pushing in until his hips are flush with your ass and he hears the harshness of it. That's a must.

"You'd do anything I wanted, wouldn't you?" He mumbles, the dirty talk working himself up even further as he keeps his pace. It's tantalizing, making your legs weak. But your body doesn't give out—not yet, anyway.

"You're so tight, I can't—" You swear he says it every time, but you suppose that just means he means it every time.

"Letting me fuck you without a condom, like a slut. What, are you gonna let me cum inside you? Yeah? I bet you would."

"Are you asking to?" You turn it back on him.

"Would you let me?" He returns, hips meeting yours with a loud slap. His hand reaches down to grab at your ass before moving back up to hold your hip.

"I think you just want to. Do you wanna breed me or something? Like a fucking kink?" You snicker softly. It's only meant as a joke, but Beomgyu full on whines at it. "God, I knew it. You do want to, don't you? Wanna fuck me full."

He cries out into your neck, biting down on the skin there. Not enough to break skin, but enough for there to be a reddening, temporary bite mark, and for you to feel it once he pulls off.

"I swear—" Beomgyu crumbles, burying his cock in to the hilt, "fuck, I'm so close. You're so mean to me, baby."

He changes from fucking you in long, hard strokes, to shorter, more purposeful ones. He slips out and impulsively, but gently, rolls you over so your on your stomach, and he's coming up behind you.

His hands bunch your shirt up enough for the arch of your back to be exposed to him, one hand pressing down into it as he reaches for a pillow. He slips it under your hips to prop you up, thankfully, because you knew your thighs would give if you were made to keep yourself up like that.

He presses his cock back in in one swift movement, hands on your hips. Once he's fully in, he gently lies over you. His hands rest on either side of your head, splayed out as he hovers over you. You almost wish you could see it, but the lack of awareness this position gives you is far more enticing.

"Fuck, Gyu, what are you—" you manage out before feeling him start fucking into you, barely pulling out between thrusts. It's so dirty, so overwhelming, but so good. You swear you could cry from it.

"You're being so bad for me. Need you to be quiet and let me fuck you." He kisses the back of your shoulders, over the shirt he had shrugged up your body. He's so soft, even when he's pinning your body down and making you damn near sob from pleasure. It's unheard of.

"Don't you want me to fill you up? Yeah? You're not any better than me, you know you want me to. You've never been filled up like this before, have you?" Beomgyu draws out in rambles, impossibly pent up. It's the hottest you've seen him, all because of a breeding kink you didn't know of merely five minutes ago.

In any other moment, you'd have the mind to refute, making him confess that he wanted it. Like some kind of whore, he wanted to fill you up. But you're not that strong anymore, not when he's fucked you dumb until you're trying not to cry into the pillow.

"Yeah, baby, please," you beg back, nodding with your head buried in the pillow. You feel him fuck you impossibly harder once you agree, and he's letting out a mix of broken moans and whines.

"Yeah? I'm gonna cum, baby, I'm so close—hah, baby," he rambles, moving to grip your hands, pinning them down in the process. Maybe he means to, maybe he doesn't. But he does.

His hips finally still and he's crying out as he buried himself in your pussy to the hilt. He's flush against your ass, and you finally feel the warmth of his cum spilling inside your pussy. It's an overwhelming amount, but he never once pulls away or shows signs of it. You're just propped there, ass up, your boyfriend holding you down through the intense orgasm.

He slowly grinds into you, one hand moving down to rub at your clit messily as he does. That combined with his soft words, cooing how pretty and good and sexy you are, manages to send you over the edge.

You swear, when you two orgasm, neither of you maintain any sense of dominance you once had. It's just babbling and crying into one another's bodies as you just try and get through the intensity of it.

You press back up against him, trying to get closer, to feel more. He gently kisses the back of your head, tilting your head so he can kiss your cheek and neck as he gets you through it. Making you feel like both a total whore and the prettiest girl in the world all at once. He only slows once you're starting to feel the overstimulation hit, but he doesn't pull out. He refuses.

He gently pulls the pillow from beneath your hips, easing you down to lie down as he lies behind you. He's still flush inside of you, despite his cock softening slowly as he comes down. You lie there, warming his cock even after he's cum, feeling him hold you closer to his chest.

"You seriously have to let me cum inside you like that every time. Oh my god, I think I saw god. Maybe even heaven." Beomgyu rambles, holding you close as he brings your shirt down over your chest, kissing the nape of your neck again.

"Only once you admit you have a breeding kink, which I'm still not over, actually. You never told me about that." You turn your head to look back at him. He hides behind his long bangs, forehead resting on your shoulder.

"Well, it doesn't come up in everyday conversation, now does it?" He retorts, lightheartedly stubborn. You just smack his hand playfully. He pouts against you.

"Well," you start, mockingly, "after this, I'm buying more birth control, and you're throwing away all our condoms. Got it?"

He nearly moans at that, and you can't help but laugh back.

"You're such a tease." He murmurs, nipping at your neck, but quickly soothing it with a kiss and slowly pressing himself in deeper. A reminder of where his place inside of you was.

"Says you." You say, for maybe the fifth time that morning—and you've only been up an hour now.

[lovesickchoi]

📁 FILE 05: HUENINGKAI

⋆·˚ ༘ * It’s been days since the fight, and you’ve barely touched him. Hueningkai’s been patient—gentle reminders, fleeting contact, anything to feel close again. But once you let him in, he makes sure you never pull away again.

✦ Love Language: Physical Touch

pairing: hueningkai x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 2.5k

warnings: smut, f!reader, dom!hueningkai, sub!reader, makeup sex, wall sex, riding, overstimulation, possession themes, begging, multiple orgasms

🗂️ click to access all txt member’s files

˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist

You genuinely did not mean to ignore Kai.

It was just that after the argument... things settled into a quiet dispute. With every room you shared, the air almost instantly flooded with tension. It worked its way into your subconscious. To the point where you didn't even realize you'd begun turning your back to him when brushing your teeth. Shrugging away from him when he tried to put an arm around you. Even sitting on opposite sides of the couch during a movie.

The worst part? You couldn't even remember how it started. Just that he said something that cut too deep. But as usual, you reacted without thinking, and suddenly everything was off. You didn’t yell. There were no slammed doors or snide remarks. Only a stillness that made everything ten times worse.

What made it unbearable for Kai was your lack of affection. At least during your usual fights, you wouldn't shy away from contact, letting each other know that you're still there. For him, touch was paramount. His way of saying I’m upset, but I still love you. Of saying anything at all.

But when you stopped reaching for him, when you pulled away ever so slightly when he leaned in to kiss your cheek goodnight, when you crossed your arms instead of letting them fall into his waiting hands, it stung him. Every intentionally missed chance crawled beneath his skin like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

Something had to be done about it. So Kai began slowly.

A hand on your lower back in the kitchen when you’re making coffee. A ghost of a touch, but it lingers, even after he walks away. His pinky brushing yours as you pass him the remote on the couch, the faint contact sending electricity through him. A leg tossed carelessly over yours in bed when he thinks you’re asleep, just enough to keep you within reach, and just enough to pretend it doesn’t mean anything.

You don’t lean into him or return the touches, but you don’t pull away either. And for Kai, that's enough for now. It was maddening, how something so small could feel so important. A reason to keep hoping you'd come back to the surface. Every time you didn’t move, he took it as permission. Almost like an ounce of forgiveness he hadn’t yet earned.

The itch continues to build over the days.

Until one night, you’re out with friends, tucked into the corner of a bar you both used to love. You're half-tuned into the conversation, some mixed drink sweating in your palm. You laugh on cue, smile at familiar faces, nod when appropriate, but none of it reaches you.

Kai's kept his distance, just like you seem to want. He's sat far enough away that his knee couldn’t bump yours beneath the table, laughed a second too late at a joke you would've whispered in his ear just days ago. He’s been so good.

But later that night, he watches you across the room. Your shoulders dip when Yeonjun makes you laugh. The way your lips curled softly at the corners, the way they only do for him. And then Beomgyu leans in, too close for him to ignore, and Kai forgets how to behave.

His feet move before his mind does.

Suddenly, he’s behind you. Close. His chest was nearly flush against your back. One hand finds your bare hipbone, warm fingers pressing into the skin, desperate to leave a mark. His grip isn’t harsh; it's more like a quick claim of what's his. The gesture wasn't loud whatsoever, but it was undeniable to the hungry boys around you.

You flinch—just a fraction. But again, you choose not to move. Kai's breath is soft against your ear, his nose brushing your temple. He says nothing to you. Instead, his thumb draws a single, slow circle into your skin. Both an apology and a reminder to you.

He stays like that for a moment too long, anchoring himself to you with just that small touch, begging that you’ll lean back. But when you don’t, he silently retreats. Slipping away like he hadn’t just poured his heart into the palm of your hand.

This time, his absence sends a chill through you. For the first time in days, your body aches for him in return. You pretend it didn’t shake you. But hours later, back in the apartment, it all comes to a head.

You’re sitting up in bed, both of you with your faces in your phones. Lights dimmed, still not touching one another. You scrolled mindlessly, not even paying attention to whatever illuminated your phone screen. Instead, you were all too consumed by Kai looming next to you. The room is eerily quiet, and you feel it before you see it: his presence shifting as the mattress dips beside you.

He sets his phone down first.

Kai turns to you to hook a leg over yours. Impatient arms wrap around your middle and drag you into him until your back is against his chest and your legs tangle. You try to keep your grip on your phone, but it slips from your fingers and hits the sheets with a dull thud.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your shoulder. He was nervous. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Your breath catches in relief. The dam finally breaks, and instead of turning away, you lean in. Your fingers curl at the sharp edge of his jaw and guide his mouth to yours. No more space. No more pretending. His body settles against you with a sigh, like he’s been waiting for this crack in the silence just to exhale.

The kiss is wrecked from the start. There’s nothing careful about it. It tastes like everything you’ve both swallowed down the past week: guilt, longing, frustration, need. His tongue slides against yours like he’s desperate to remember it. His hands stay tight on your waist, holding you still. You don't hold back your moans, and Kai swallows them whole.

He lays you back onto the bed with reverence, lips trailing down your throat, hands slipping beneath your sleep shirt to trace the backs of your thighs. Warm, calloused palms kneading your skin like he’s trying to relearn every inch.

"I'm sorry too," you whisper, voice cracking, eyes glimmering beneath his gaze.

He kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. His breath stutters as he speaks. “Then let me make up for this wasted time.”

You nod silently, but the hunger in his eyes falters—barred by restraint. It takes you arching up, lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, to get him to move.

This time, Kai rises with purpose.

One fluid motion turns you in his grasp, guiding you up from the bed until your chest meets the opposite wall. The chill of it against your skin makes you gasp.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you like this,” he breathes, stepping into you, chest flush to your back. “Pressed up. Nowhere to run like you've been doing to me all week.”

You feel him hard against your ass. His arms wrap around your waist, firm but gentle. His breath is hot against your neck.

“I would think about it—how it might feel to fuck you right here. No distractions. No space between us. Just you… mine.”

Your hands brace against the wall, trembling when he drags your sleep shirt up and off, exposing you inch by inch.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, down your spine. Fingers slip between your legs, testing you.

“I want to feel every sound you make,” he murmurs, “and hear it echo off these walls.”

A soft whimper breaks from you. “Touch me, Kai.”

“I missed touching you.” His hand slides up, cupping your breast.

“I missed you.” You arch into him and lets out a grunt.

He kisses your jaw. Apologies and confessions of love spilling back and forth between you. “I hated waking up without you.”

“I hated it too,” you breathe, voice shaking at this point. “I’m sorry I made you feel alone.”

Your panties are gone before you even notice. Kai is sinking to his knees behind you, dragging the lace slowly down your thighs. His hands settle at your hips for a moment, breath fanning over the backs of your thighs. He carefully leans in.

You gasp when you feel his tongue slowly licking a stripe through your folds. His thumbs spread you gently, and he groans at the sight of you at this angle, wet and swollen just for him.

He buries his face there like it’s all he’s ever wanted. His tongue works expertly, curling against your clit, then dipping into you. Your knees nearly give, but his hands are steady at your thighs, holding you open for him.

“Kai—oh my god,” you pant, forehead hitting the wall.

He hums into you. Oh, how he missed the sound of your voice breaking just for him. His grip tightens when your hips begin to stutter forward.

“Stay still,” he murmurs against your heat. “I’m not done.”

He sucks your clit softly, flicks his tongue, and then kisses the slick skin just beneath. He licks you through one long, quiet moan from your lips—his favorite sound.

Only when you’re dripping and whimpering his name like does he finally rise to his feet.

You barely feel him stand to undress himself, way too dazed, until his cock is dragging through your folds, nudging your entrance.

“You’re soaked,” he groans. “Even now…”

He slides into you with one long, slow thrust. “F-fuck…”

You gasp, cheek now pressed into to the wall as you glance at Kai behind you, the look in his eyes making your knees buckle. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other hand cupping your breast, keeping you standing and tight against him.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes into your shoulder. “I’ve always got you.”

The rhythm he sets is slow and deep. Every thrust pushes his apology further into you, every kiss on your neck making you shiver. Your fingers curl against the wall, body shaking under the weight of it all.

Your hand reaches back blindly, searching for his. He laces your fingers instantly, pressing them to your stomach, holding you even tighter.

“Don’t run from me,” he whispers. “I need to be close to you again.”

You whisper his name, and he falters. He pulls out only to guide you back to the bed, collapsing against the mattress and taking you with him.

You straddle his hips, legs shaking, as he lines himself up again. He doesn’t waste a second before guiding you back down, slowly filling you to the hilt once more.

You cry out, the stretch, the pressure—so full, and he was deeper than before. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down onto him. He presses you flush to his chest.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he murmurs into your skin. “Not being able to hold you.”

You roll your hips once, and he whines your name unexpectedly.

“Feels so fucking good,” he breathes. “Like this—god—don’t stop.”

You do it again. Again. And again. His hips lift to meet yours, cock fucking into you from beneath, harder with each thrust. The bed creaks under the rhythm of your bodies. Your moans grow louder with need as you match eachother’s pace.

“You drive me insane,” he groans, dragging his mouth along your shoulder, biting softly.

You whimper, head falling back. You hold youself up with your hands against his chest. “Don’t stop touching me.”

“Never,” Kai swears, one hand gripping your thigh, the other moving to your clit. The way he circles it makes your eyes roll back.

“I—” a soft sob emits from your throat. “I’m gonna—”

“Let me feel it,” he begs you. “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

That's all it ever takes for you to cry out, entire body trembling, walls pulsing around him. He groans like he’s unraveling himself. “Fuck—fuck, I’m cumming—”

But Kai doesn’t stop. He moans into your neck, wanting to fuck into you even more. He was greedy. “Fuck, baby… again. Give me another.”

Your eyes flutter, head lolling slightly. “Kai—” Your voice is already weak. “I just—”

“I know,” he breathes, kissing your shoulder, rolling his hips faster again. “But I need it. Just one more. Please, baby.”

You gasp as he thrusts up again, the slick, overstimulated stretch of him dragging against your still-clenching walls. It makes you yelp.

“I just missed you too much,” he whispers, voice soft but intense. “Missed how pretty you sound for me."

His hand slides back down, fingers seeking your clit again. The touch is featherlight this time. You whimper his name over and over.

“I can’t—” you whisper, shuddering.

“Yes, you can,” he coos. “I’ve got you.”

You feel your body tipping again, sensitivity heightening with every movement of his fingers. He holds you there, one hand gripping your thigh, the other working you gently.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispers up at you. “So perfect. And so mine.”

Your orgasm hits harder than the last. You shake in his arms, thighs clamping around his hips, mouth falling open in a silent cry. He swallows every sound. Pulling you back down onto him, he can’t help but kiss your cheek, your temple, your jaw. And then he finally follows.

Kai’s hips stutter, cock twitching deep inside as he groans, hips barely moving as he empties into you, voice broken against your skin. “H-holy shit. I love you.”

You go limp in his arms. But Kai doesn’t even think about letting go.

He cups your jaw with one hand and turns your face so he can kiss you. The aftershocks ripple through both of you as he brushes his hands down your sides.

Eventually, you shift off him with a breathy sound. He pulls you in immediately, chest flush to your back like the night began, curling his body around yours. One hand splayed across your stomach, the other stroking your hip.

Your voice is raw when you whisper, “I really am sorry.”

He laughs into your hair, nose nuzzling behind your ear. “Don't worry. I shouldn't have said what I said."

He kisses the top of your head and exhales deeply. The weight he’s been carrying finally lifts. But there’s a pause when he stills behind you. He clears his throat before speaking again.

“But don’t ever treat me like that during a fight again,” he adds, voice playful but serious beneath it. “Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”

You let out a quiet laugh, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair. “Deal.”

This time, when he pulls you even closer, you don’t hesitate. You just melt into him.

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likes/reblogs/follows/ are always appreciated <3

[taebinlvr]

this has me thinking not gonna lie!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cbeargyu]

seven days a week

summary: you and your husband soobin have been married for a year, but your desire for each other hasn’t faded. in fact, it’s only grown more intense. from spontaneous office quickies to sensual public encounters, your love is as passionate as it is insatiable.

pairing: husband!soobin x wife fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp, romantic erotica, established marriage au.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, oral, creampie, possessive behavior, riding, fingering, married couple dynamics, unrealistic libido (no mention of periods or pregnancy, this is pure fiction, not real-life sex ed) mutual obsession and desperate love vibes.

wc: 3,1k

notes: OMG! i just hit 1700 followers!! when did that even happen??? 🥹 thank you so much for all your love and support, i love you all endlessly 💌 you’re the reason i keep writing. i actually had this fic ready for a while, but i finally gave it a proper read-through so i could post it 🫠 husband!soobin is seriously the best concept ever… and him being a total perv too?? yes please 👅🔥

you never thought marriage would taste this sweet.

a year had passed since the two of you tied the knot, and not a single day had gone by without his hands on your skin, without your lips on his, without your body aching for him. most people said the passion would fade after the honeymoon, that routine would dull the fire, but it only seemed to burn hotter the longer you were together.

you weren’t just lovers. you were addicts. both of you.

it didn’t matter where you were or who was around—when the heat hit, you both found a way to release it. on the elevator to your apartment, pressed against the mirrored wall with soobin's hand covering your mouth to silence your moans. in the restroom of an upscale restaurant, your dress bunched up around your waist, legs trembling as he whispered filth into your ear while fucking you senseless against the sink. on your balcony at night, the wind carrying the scent of sex through the city, your knees bruising against the railing as he held you in place. at the beach, with the tide lapping at your ankles, his fingers inside you under the stars. in the backseat of your car, windows fogged up, your panties hanging from the rearview mirror by the time you were done. and then there was his office.

soobin was the editor-in-chief of one of the most renowned publishing houses in the country. prestigious, respected, calm under pressure. nobody would suspect that the man in that pristine tailored suit spent half of his lunch breaks buried between your thighs.

it always started the same way.

you’d text him something simple—are you free to eat together today?—and he’d reply with a time. never a word more than needed, not over messages. he liked it clean on the outside. so you’d walk into the lobby with your bag in one hand and a shy smile on your lips, nodding politely at the receptionist, who recognized you instantly. she’d give you that usual knowing glance, and you’d just giggle to yourself, acting like you weren’t about to get wrecked on the top floor.

his office was spacious, framed by tall windows and lined with bookshelves. his desk was always organized, the glass surface spotless—until you came in. the second he locked the door behind you, he turned into someone else entirely.

“took you long enough,” he murmured that day, voice thick with restraint as he pulled you in by the wrist.

“you said twelve-thirty,” you teased, your breath catching as he pressed you against the inside of the door, lips brushing your throat. “i’m right on time.”

“mm,” he hummed, dragging your coat from your shoulders with one hand, the other already slipping beneath your skirt. “that’s cute. thinking you get to play innocent.”

you gasped when his fingers met your bare heat, your thighs already sticky, aching, pulsing for him.

“no panties?” he chuckled darkly, dipping a finger between your folds. “what would the board say if they knew their editor’s wife walked into the building dripping like this?”

“they’d say it’s your fault,” you whispered, tilting your head to give him more access, already trembling when he started circling your clit slowly. “you make me like this.”

“that’s right,” he growled.

he dragged you away from the door, lifting you effortlessly onto his desk, scattering a few papers in the process. he shoved your skirt up to your hips, kneeling between your legs without hesitation. the cold glass pressed against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath as he kissed your inner thighs, teasing, licking, biting. then his tongue found your center, and you arched your back with a broken moan, one hand flying to grip the edge of the desk while the other threaded through his dark hair.

he always made you feel like this—unraveled, ruined, adored.

his tongue moved with practiced precision, licking you open as if you were his only purpose in life, savoring every twitch of your hips, every breathless cry. when your thighs started shaking, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “come on, baby. give it to me. i want to taste you.”

and you did. hard. moaning his name like a prayer, thighs clamping around his head as you came on his tongue.

he didn’t stop there.

before your body could recover, he stood up and unbuckled his belt with slow, deliberate movements, eyes locked on yours, filled with hunger. his cock was already hard, thick, leaking as he stroked it once, twice, while stepping closer. he didn’t ask. didn’t need to. you were already spreading your legs wider for him.

he slid into you in one smooth, deep thrust, swallowing your gasp with a kiss.

“fuck—” he breathed against your mouth, voice strained. “you’re so tight. always so good for me.”

you clung to him, arms around his neck, nails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt. he fucked you slowly at first, savoring the way you clenched around him, the way you whimpered every time his hips rolled into yours. but it didn’t stay slow for long.

“you think i don’t know what you do?” he grunted, thrusting harder, faster, his desk creaking beneath the rhythm. “you walk in here all sweet and quiet, but you’re just begging to be used.”

“yes,” you cried, breathless. “yes, soobin—please, harder—”

he gave it to you.

his pace turned punishing, relentless, fucking you into the desk so hard you could barely think. you could hear your slickness every time he drove into you, could feel the tension coiling in your belly all over again, already close to a second climax.

he brought his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit until your vision blurred, until your moans echoed through the room.

“come for me again,” he ordered, jaw clenched. “want to feel you squeeze me while i fill you up.”

you came again, harder this time, your whole body convulsing around him as you sobbed his name, and seconds later, he buried himself deep and groaned as he spilled inside you, warm and thick, making you gasp at the sensation.

neither of you moved for a while.

his forehead rested against yours, both of you panting, still trembling from the high. he kissed you softly, this time slower, gentler, like the man everyone else knew.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered with a smile.

“you started it,” you replied, smiling back.

he chuckled, pulling out with a groan, helping you adjust your clothes before tucking himself back in and fixing his tie like nothing happened.

you straightened your skirt, kissed his cheek, and headed for the door.

“same time tomorrow?” you teased.

his eyes darkened.

“count on it.”

people would say it was just the honeymoon phase. a spark that would eventually die out.

“give it a few months,” they said. “you’ll settle down. you’ll calm down.” but they didn’t know you. they didn’t know soobin.

because a year into your marriage, the fire hadn’t dulled—it had grown. hotter. deeper. more desperate.

you craved him constantly, and he wanted you like he needed you to breathe. it didn’t matter how many times he’d had you the night before—when morning came, his hands were already wandering beneath the sheets. sometimes you barely made it out of bed before he was fucking you into the mattress, your sleepy moans muffled by the pillow as he thrusted into you from behind. and when breakfast was over, when the dishes were still in the sink, he’d pull you onto the kitchen counter and eat you out until your legs went numb, just because he missed the taste.

when you both came home from work, it didn’t matter how exhausted you were—he always kissed you like it was the first time, always touched you like he’d been starving all day. in the shower, you’d grind against each other under the hot water until one of you caved. on the couch after dinner, he’d have you straddling his lap, his hands under your shirt, his cock pressed between your thighs. even when you were both tucked into bed, skin warm and clean, he’d still reach for you in the dark, whispering soft, filthy things against your shoulder until you were whimpering for him again.

sometimes, in the middle of the night, you’d wake up to find his hand already between your legs, his mouth on your chest, his cock hard and ready against your hip.

but nothing compared to how needy he got when you dressed up.

you’d gone to dinner with his parents that evening. the restaurant was elegant, quiet, candle-lit. you wore a dress he hadn’t seen before—tight, black, hugging your body like it was made for you. it stopped just above the knee, a subtle slit climbing up one thigh. you knew the second he saw you walk out of the bedroom that you were in trouble.

he didn’t touch you during dinner. not once. but his eyes never left you. his hand stayed clenched on his thigh under the table, his jaw tense, his smile too tight whenever someone complimented the way you looked.

and the second you stepped out of the restaurant and slid into the backseat of the car, he lost it.

you barely had time to buckle your seatbelt before he reached over and unfastened it again.

“soobin?” you blinked at him, surprised.

he didn’t answer. just climbed over you, slammed the door shut, and pushed you back against the seat, his lips crashing into yours like he’d been holding it in for hours.

“fuck,” he hissed against your mouth, his hands already tugging your dress up your thighs. “you wore this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“i thought it looked pretty,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers found the edge of your panties and yanked them down without hesitation.

“you looked like a fucking dream,” he growled, kissing down your neck, biting your shoulder through the strap of your dress. “do you know how hard it was to sit across from you and pretend i wasn’t dying to fuck you under the table?”

you moaned when his fingers slipped between your legs, already coated in your arousal.

“you’re so wet already,” he muttered, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit. “does dressing like that for me turn you on, baby?”

“yes,” you whimpered. “you looked so good in that suit, hubby. wanted to jump you the whole time.”

he groaned, cock twitching in his slacks at the sound of the word.

“say that again.”

you bit your lip, arching your hips into his hand. “my sexy husband. my baby. always so handsome.”

“fuck, baby, i’m gonna ruin you,” he grunted, already undoing his belt, freeing his cock with a breathless hiss.

he was hard, thick, leaking, and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrap your hand around him, stroking him slowly while he growled under his breath.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, grabbing your wrist and guiding you down onto the seat. “turn around. get on your knees for me.”

you obeyed, heart pounding, body trembling with need. the soft leather dug into your skin as you leaned forward, dress bunched up around your waist, bare for him.

he gripped your hips and shoved into you in one swift, brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt and making you cry out.

“god—soobin—!”

“shhh,” he murmured, leaning over your back, pressing kisses to your spine. “you want them to hear, baby? the valet’s still outside.”

you whimpered, biting your fist to muffle your sounds, and he started moving—deep, rough thrusts that had the entire car rocking.

he held your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fucked you harder, faster, his cock slamming into your sweet spot over and over until tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“mine,” he growled. “my pretty wife. you love this, don’t you? love getting fucked like this by your husband. so desperate for my cock you couldn’t wait till we got home.”

“yes—yes, please—don’t stop—”

he reached around to rub your clit, fast and messy, and you broke with a cry, your whole body convulsing as your orgasm crashed over you.

but he didn’t stop.

“so fucking tight when you come,” he panted, slamming into you harder, chasing his own release. “gonna fill you up, baby. you want that?”

“yes, hubby—fill me up, please—need you—”

he groaned, buried himself deep, and spilled inside you with a shudder, hot and thick, making you tremble all over again.

you collapsed onto the seat, both of you panting, his cum already dripping down your thighs.

after a few moments, he kissed your lower back and helped you fix your dress, his hands gentle, voice softer now.

“you okay, baby?”

“never better,” you whispered with a lazy smile, reaching back to squeeze his hand. “think your parents noticed we left too fast?”

he laughed, pulling you into his lap for a kiss.

“they probably think we’re still in the honeymoon phase.”

you grinned against his lips.

“good. let them.”

you didn’t always mean to take it that far.

sometimes, the need just crept up slowly—starting with a brush of hands, a glance too long, the way his voice dropped when he leaned in to whisper in your ear. but with soobin, it was never just harmless teasing. not when the fire between you burned this deep, this fast, this endlessly.

the worst was when you were supposed to behave.

you were at a gallery opening, invited as a couple by one of soobin’s publishing partners. the space was sleek, minimalist, dimly lit with soft instrumental music echoing through the marble hallways. guests murmured about brushstrokes and contrast, sipping champagne, admiring modern pieces as if they understood them. you should’ve been focused. polite. engaged.

but all you could think about was the way soobin’s hand kept pressing low against your back, the way his lips brushed your temple every time he leaned in to comment on a piece, the way he looked in that black turtleneck and tailored slacks—quiet, elegant, composed. and the way his cock pressed against his thigh when he caught you watching him with that soft, hungry gaze of yours.

you lasted an hour. maybe less.

“you look stunning,” he murmured while you both stood in front of an abstract canvas, his fingers ghosting over the inside of your wrist.

“so do you,” you whispered back, stepping closer.

“i can’t stop thinking about the way you looked last night.”

“baby,” you warned in a low voice, heart fluttering.

“i can’t stop thinking about how tight you were. how you moaned for me.”

you swallowed, thighs clenching.

so when he found a quiet corridor tucked behind the private wing of the gallery, with large velvet curtains shielding the entrance and barely any foot traffic, you didn’t even hesitate when he took your hand and pulled you in with him.

the space was dark and unused, some storage room filled with rolled canvases and crates, dimly lit by a dusty lamp on a side table. you barely had time to glance around before he pulled you onto his lap on an old velvet loveseat, your dress riding up your thighs as he guided you to straddle him.

“here?” you breathed, heart racing, but already grinding against him.

he cupped your ass and pulled you down flush against his cock. “shh, just for a little. i promise i’ll be quiet if you will.”

you kissed him hard, needing him more than you cared to admit.

you fumbled with his belt, both of you breathless, frantic, silent laughter shaking your shoulders as you tried not to giggle while exposing him in the middle of the damn gallery. when you finally pulled him free, hard and hot in your hand, you didn’t hesitate. you lifted your hips, pushed your soaked panties aside, and sank down onto him in one smooth, aching motion.

you bit your lip hard to keep from gasping, forehead falling to his shoulder as you took him in completely, your walls stretching, pulsing, wrapping around him perfectly.

“god, baby,” he whispered, voice trembling. “you’re always so tight for me. always so wet.”

“i missed you,” you whispered back, starting to move slowly, your hands gripping his shoulders as you rolled your hips in slow, fluid waves. “i know it’s only been a few hours but… i missed you so much.”

his hands slid beneath your dress, gripping your waist, guiding your rhythm, helping you ride him deeper, slower, harder. every time you rocked down, you could feel his cock hit that spot that made you tremble, made your eyes flutter shut.

his head fell back against the wall as he watched you move—so beautiful, flushed, glowing under the low light. his perfect wife, riding his cock like it was her god-given purpose.

“fuck,” he whispered, jaw tight. “you’re gonna make me come so fast like this, baby. you feel too good.”

you leaned in, kissing his lips sweetly before whispering into his mouth, “then come with me. come inside me, love. fill me up. again.”

he groaned, desperate now, thrusting up into you as you bounced on his lap, your movements sloppy and fast, your moans barely restrained against his neck. you were close—so close—the tension in your belly winding tight, heat blooming between your legs as you chased your second high of the day.

and then he grabbed your face gently with one hand, the other still gripping your ass, and looked at you with that softness that always broke you.

“i’ll never get tired of you,” he whispered. “never. not your voice, not your body, not your mouth, not your moans. i’ll crave you forever, baby.”

you whined, overwhelmed, heart racing, body trembling.

“i love you,” you breathed. “you know that, right? i love you so much, soobin.”

“i love you more,” he said, and then you both broke at the same time—his warmth filling you deep as your walls clenched around him, your cries caught in the hollow of his throat, your nails raking down his back as you trembled in his arms.

you stayed there for a while, still joined, breathing each other in, hearts beating fast and in sync. you nuzzled into his neck as he stroked your back slowly, reverently, his softening cock still buried inside you.

and in that quiet little hidden room, beneath dim lights and forgotten paintings, you both made a silent vow without needing to speak it aloud:

to never tire of each other. to never stop touching, loving, needing. to crave, devour, and worship until your last breath.

because this love—this madness—wasn't just passion. it was eternity. and you were both so, so willing to burn in it forever.

[taebinlvr]

this was so. husband soobin <333

[taebinlvr]

I love how you write whiny and desperate men. Pathetic touch-starved whimpering losers are my favorite flavor <3

thank u omg <33 you get it like if they’re not absolutely pathetic then i don’t want it

[taebinlvr]

— myungjae bending you over the kitchen counter

wc : 934 nsfw + mdni . . . the idea of this came to me in the middle of the night and i haven't been able to stop thinking about it,, i'm a needy myungjae PREACHER

boynextdoor masterlist .

────────────────────────────────────────────

“pleasee, baby? just real quick?”

the voice of your loving boyfriend cooed into your ear, as his chest pressed up against your back and his arms snaked around your waist. he held you firmly against him, shamelessly starting to grind his raging hard-on against your ass.

you had just gotten home from work, an unusually long shift that left you extremely exhausted – and your lover extremely needy. you started working more hours just a couple weeks ago at your boss’s request, but jaehyun – and, honestly, yourself – hadn’t gotten near used to it yet.

“‘hyun, wait a second- can i at least take a shower, first?” you breathed, feeling a growing warmth settle into your core as jaehyun’s hands slid under your shirt, one splayed on your stomach as the other palmed at your bra.

“there’s no point, i’m gonna make a mess of you anyway.” he smiled into your neck, pressing firm kisses and playful bites into your skin.

you showed little resistance as jaehyun maneuvered you away from the hallway, where you stood, and into the kitchen. you stumbled into the counter, your bag and its contents spilling out over the surface as you let go of it in order to grasp at the counter’s edges instead.

“just wanna pound that pretty pussy, baby.. can i please?”

you realized quickly that you couldn’t stop him, even if you wanted to. not only was his mind hard to change when he touched you so needily, when his eyes were glossed over with a hazy desire – but you wanted it, too. you could already feel a wetness soaking into your panties, your hole aching through the fabric with a need to be filled.

submitting yourself to him, you bent over the counter, crossing your arms and resting your cheek against your skin as you glanced over your shoulder to watch. you could swear your cunt throbbed at the sight of his drunken smile against his flushed face.

“fuck, so fucking hot when you’re bent over for me-” his hands moved quickly, thumbs hooking your waistband before pulling down both your slacks and your panties in one swift movement. he moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy, a shiver running down your spine as you watched him hurry to pull his length out of his shorts.

“been waiting all day for this..” jaehyun practically whimpered as he lined up the head of his cock at your opening, small, needy sounds falling from his lips as he teased it. “god- i’m not gonna fucking last-”

loud, drawn out moans were dragged from the deepest parts of the both of you as jaehyun slid in between your folds, every inch sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine.

he doesn’t even wait – as soon as he bottoms out in you he’s already pulling back out, slamming back into with full force and at a ruthless pace. his thrusts aren’t steady or clean, either. they’re messy. sloppy. needy.

“fuck, fuck, fuck-” his moans are different from his regular low, husky tone. they’re higher-pitched and whiny, ripping through his throat as desperate cries with every thrust he’s shoving into you.

“j-jaehyun, slow d-down-” you choke out, your own moans barely able to compete with the volume of his, “‘s s-so.. rough-”

“i can’t, y/n- i fucking can’t-” he pants out his words. you could see in the way his half-lidded eyes are laser focused on your throbbing cunt that there was nothing else on his mind. you were utterly at his mercy as he desperately fucked himself into you.

“h-here- put your leg up for me.” although his pace doesn’t slow for a second, he takes a moment to remove one of his hands from your ass, tapping the surface of the counter beside you. with shaky legs, you obey.

but the new angle the position opens you up to is enough to make you see stars. your nails dig into the soft skin of your arms as you practically scream into the air, your knees threatening to buckle beneath you with every thrust.

“‘hyunnie-” you cry, “‘m g-gonna cum soon..”

“please baby, please,” he tears his eyes away from your cunt to meet your gaze, mouth agape at just the sight of you, “cum all over this dick, please- making a fucking mess for me.”

one more rough thrust and you’re fulfilling jaehyun’s request, your cunt mercilessly twitching and spasming around his length. your head slams into your arms, your skin muffling your cries as your legs finally undo beneath you. moving quickly, jaehyun catches you, his rhythm never faltering.

but it’s only a few moments later, as your cunt is still desperately clamping down around his cock, that he reaches his own release. the moan he lets out is practically pornographic, loud and whiny as if he hadn’t cum in weeks. it was only then that he stilled inside of you, his throbbing length softening within your walls.

jaehyun leans down, his chest pressing against your back as he’s moving your hair out of the way of your neck, giving him the space to leave gentle kisses on your skin. you were both still half dressed, both of your trousers pooled around your ankles with your shirts clinging to your sweaty bodies, now rampant with the scent of sex.

but as his lips are pressing into your neck, his hands are tracing up your waist, taking hold of the hem of your shirt before lifting.

“baby..” his voice was already hoarse, his words coming out as a breathy moan.

“can we go again in the shower..?”

[lucidwntrr]

hear me out. SUB TAEHYUNNNNN. who can’t take being ridden <3

ahhhh, my first request & taehyun fic ! i was so excited to write this one & hope i did it justice !!

── tags: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), riding, some marking, implied multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, begging, taehyun cries, taehyun is needy

“god, please - no more…”

you were straddling him, warm and wet with his cock buried deep inside you. the squelching every time you slowly brought your hips down onto him sending him closer to edge of cumming. again.

taehyun was absolutely wrecked. his skin flushed and he swears he could almost cry from how good he felt, sniffling cutely. maybe he already was. all he could do was helplessly squirm underneath you as his fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips.

you started relentlessly fucking him, your pace quick and taehyun couldn’t keep up. his mind still reeling from his last orgasm, cock sensitive and skin still tingling.

“w-wait, slow down, i can’t-” he gasps. he throws his head back onto the bed, giving you opportunity to lean over him and nibble across the exposed skin.

you sink all the way down onto his throbbing cock with a soft moan, rolling your hips against him as you mark up his throat, tilting his head to the side. taehyun huskily panting and whining into your ear.

“aww, is it too much baby~” you taunt, sucking on the skin right below his pulse. he shivers underneath you with a whimper, his eyelids fluttering. his skin erupting with goosebumps and you feel his cock involuntarily twitch, making your breath hitch.

“but you’re doing so well, you feel so good inside me.” you moan, making your way up to his mouth. capturing his lips into a wet kiss, you slide your tongue against his messily while taehyun heavily moans into it.

you lean back with a bite to his red, bottom lip and slide your hands up to his chest, needing something to hold onto as you use him. you look down at him, taking in his appearance. eyes squeezed shut, lips parted and covered in saliva, his sweaty chest heaving under your hands…

"f-uck..." he cries, voice cracking.

with abandon, you start to bounce on him again, slamming your hips down against his. his hold bruisingly tight on your waist now as he thrusts up into you mindlessly. teasingly, you brush a a nipple with your finger, making taehyun tremble and his hips jerk with a drawn out moan being pulled out.

“fuck, please ‘s too much! ’s too good~” he cries, feeling his second orgasm build up. his mind was blank, completely blissed out. the heat of you wrapped around him intoxicating, he could cum at any second.

“too much… too good… which is it,” you giggle with a sharp inhale, taehyun bucking into you, hitting deep inside you. your has gone voice soft and breathy as you too were getting close. “should we stop or should we keep going?”

“i don’t know - i don’t fucking know - i can’t think anymore…” he brokenly grits out between gasps, shaking his head wildly. he starts unabashedly fucking you, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you up so you slightly hover over him, recklessly pounding into you.

"t-taehyun, hold on... mmph-!" you stutter over your words, each thrust hitting right against your sweet spot, making you clench and leaving you speechless.

“i just… i just wanna cum, please…” he weakly chokes out, not hearing anything you say. his eyes glazed over as he looks up at you through his tears. “please tell me i can cum~”

you feel your climax coming, short breaths being punched out of you every time taehyun roughly pushes in.

“gonna cum together, yeah?” you whisper as your body tenses, holding eye contact with taehyun. the tears spilling down the sides of his face, nose red, lips red and bitten, so lewd.

taehyun can only nod in response, his breath catching in his throat when he feels you pulse around him, eyes rolling back as he gives one last thrust, burying himself inside you.

“oh fuck-”

©lucidwntrr est. 2025

[0310s]

wet the bed | leehan

members: leehan x gender neutral reader

genre: smut

tags: fingering, oral, squirting, intercrural sex

summary: your boyfriend is obsessed with making you squirt.

wc: 1.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing any actual smut... i am so shy right now. please be patient with me and let me know if you liked this. <3

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Thinking about how Leehan would be so turned on by making you squirt... You would be so embarrassed at first because of how messy you are!!! But when Leehan shyly admits he's fucked his fist multiple times to the thought of you squirting on his fingers, face, or cock, you gain a little more confidence. 

Thus starts Leehan's obsession with making you squirt. You're lying naked on your shared bed, grasping at the sheets with one hand and biting your lip as whimpers escape you. Leehan's still fully clothed, but you can already see the impression of his cock through his sweats. Leehan's using his fingers, thrusting them deep inside your pussy and massaging your inner walls.

You clutch his wrist out of nerves. "A-ah, baby, slow down, I might-" But Leehan just smiles at you sweetly and keeps going, scissoring his long fingers inside you. Putting pressure on your pelvis with his other hand, he circles your clit with his thumb. "Leehan!”

Leehan leans down to give you a kiss. It's sloppy and messy, drool dripping down your chin, but if anything, it makes you even wetter. "You don't know how hard you make me," Leehan groans against your lips, but you can tell by the spot of precum where his tip presses insistently against his sweats. "I promise I’ll make you squirt, baby."

You already know he will. Leehan manages to hit a spot inside you that makes you squeal, and when he notices, he laughs. "Oh my god, Leehan!" You let out an even louder gasp as he slinks down the bed and sucks your clit into his mouth. Leehan hums around your clit, and you immediately tangle your fingers in his hair. You're stuck between overstimulation and wanting more, to be able to reach your peak as soon as you can.

But Leehan makes that decision for you as he firmly laves his tongue up and down your slit. He gently spreads your lips with two thumbs to reveal your hole, then fucks his tongue inside your pussy. "Fuck, Leehan!" 

Thrusting his tongue deeper, he moans at how wet you are and how divine you taste. "Baby, baby, ride my face, please." At this, you fist your fingers harder in his soft hair and grind your pussy against his tongue. You can feel tears escaping your eyes at how overwhelming this all this, but you can't stop; you're just so desperate to come. 

As Leehan moans into your pussy, you notice that he's moving his hips. When you stretch your neck to see what he's doing, you find that he's pushed his pants down to his thighs and is feverishly grinding his cock against the bed. Oh my fucking god. “Leehan, are you-”

“Ah, fuck, need you so bad,” Leehan begs lowly, “need you to come so bad.” He grips your hips and licks at you even harder. Your thighs unintentionally squeeze around his head at how his tongue feels sliding through your folds, but this encourages him even more as he brings his fingers back to your pussy, fucking his middle and ring fingers into your sloppy hole. 

You feel dizzy with pleasure, and you hear your heart beating in your ears. You can’t stop babbling and nonsense is coming out of your lips. When Leehan firmly circles your clit, you feel your core tense in anticipation. “Ah, ah, Leehan, baby, god, so good, I’m about to-”

Almost instantly, a rush of wetness gushes out of you. Noticing this, Leehan moans and increases his pace. The squelching noises his fingers make as they thrust into your pussy make your cheeks burn red, but you can’t stop to overthink about how embarrassing this all is when you’re coming so hard. Leehan cups your pussy with the hand he’s fingering you with, adding more pressure. More fluid squirts out of you, soaking the sheets and Leehan’s hand. “More, more, Leehan, please-”

“Ah, baby-” Leehan sits up, holding your thighs and spreading them apart. That’s when you notice he’s fully shucked off his pants. His hair is disheveled from your grip, eyes glassy, and you can’t imagine how equally ruined you yourself must look. His cock is stiff and thick, his tip flushed red with precome already dripping down it. He strokes his cock with one hand and looks at you imploringly. “Baby, can I-”

You nod your assent, but instead of burying his cock inside you like you thought he would, he grips his cock and quickly runs it up and down your slit. The firm pressure on your pussy makes you keen and spread your legs even wider. He circles your clit with his cock, and you feel another wave of ecstacy overcome you. “Oh god, oh god, Leehan, too much, too much-” 

“You’re almost there, baby,” Leehan urges. “I’ll make you squirt again.” He quickens his pace, and you feel utterly lightheaded at the way he teases at your pussy with his warm, hard cock. He bends over to give you a searing kiss, and you can’t help but sigh and melt into it—he tastes like your come, and it makes you whine against his mouth. 

You think you’re about to come again. “Leehan,” you plead, “I’m almost there.” Hearing this, Leehan adds more pressure, his tip catching at your hole, and you feel yourself squirt again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The drag of Leehan’s tip against your folds drives you crazy, and more wetness spurts out of you. You feel like you’re coming endlessly, liquid rushing out of you as Leehan shifts and starts thrusting his hips, sensually grinding his cock against your folds. He’s staring straight at you, eyes glazed over with desire. Moans escape his lips as he bucks against you even harder. 

“Baby, baby, I’m-” Leehan wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck as he lets out a loud groan. You whimper as you feel spurts of his come on your pussy. Leehan keeps on coming and coming, but he doesn’t stop rolling his hips against you. Eventually, his thrusts come to a stop, and he sighs against your neck, sitting up once again. You? You’re beat. You can’t feel your legs, and you don’t think you can move at all. 

Looking up, you see your boyfriend staring at you lovingly as he catches his breath. His face and chest are red, and his cock is still—surprisingly—hard. You can’t help but let out a giggle. “Someone came a lot.”

“So did you,” Leehan teases back, “I made you squirt twice.” That’s when you notice the huge, very obvious spot of wetness beneath you on the sheets. 

“Oh god, that is embarrassing.” Face burning, you’re about to stand up to go to the bathroom (to the best of your ability) when you feel a hand on your wrist. 

“Where are you going?” Leehan’s eyes crinkle up into crescents. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

[lovesickchoi]

📁 FILE 01: CHOI SOOBIN

⋆·˚ ༘ * After a missed anniversary and weeks spent out of sync, Soobin just wants to be close to you again—really close. No rush, no performance. Just you, him, and the quiet reminder that you still belong to each other.

✦ Love Language: Quality Time

pairing: soobin x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 3.8k

warnings: smut, f!reader, no protection, soft dom!soobin, sub!reader, cock warming, slight oral f!rec, praise, romance, no protection, finishing inside

🗂️ click to access all txt member’s files

˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist

The apartment is quiet when you finally come home.

Way too quiet.

The kind of quiet that makes your chest feel heavier than your bag slung over your shoulder, heavier than the late hour blinking back at you on the microwave clock.

Stepping inside, you make sure to lock the door behind you. You take off your shoes, drop your keys into the bowl, and glance toward the couch.

He’s sitting there, asleep—just barely. Half curled into the throw blanket, one arm slung over the back of the couch like he was waiting for you but gave up halfway through.

You stand there longer than you intend to, just wanting to watch him for a moment. He stirs before you can say anything, lashes fluttering, voice groggy.

"You're late again..." Soobin grumbles. It wasn't accusatory, just worn thin.

You give him a small apologetic smile. "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't even get a lunch break today."

Soobin nods and tries to smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He looks toward the TV, and the silence stretches on longer than you'd like. With Soobin's recent comeback promotions and your new late-night shifts at the office, quality time together was few and far between.

Even when you managed to spend time together, it was never just the two of you. There were always friends around, always the other members. Never a moment that felt truly yours—never a chance to just be alone with Soobin.

And still, he loved you with a quiet kind of devotion. Soobin would wait up long past midnight just for the quiet privilege of walking you to bed. Even the smallest moment alone with you was worth losing sleep over.

You were so used to running—meeting quotas, ticking boxes, always being on—that you hadn’t noticed how little of yourself you’d given him lately. Not your stories, not your softness. Not your time.

And apparently not even your memory for important days, like today.

You realize it the moment your eyes flick toward the calendar on the fridge. The date. Your heart sinks.

"Shit," you breathe. "Our anniversary..."

Soobin doesn’t even flinch. He just watches you quietly, eyes soft but ridden with exhaustion.

Your own eyes shift down to the uneaten container of food and unopened bottle of wine on the kitchen table—he waited to eat.

"You didn't have to wait."

He responds quickly. "I wanted to." Soobin doesn't say for you, but it's written all over his face. He'd do anything to savor a moment with you.

"I am so sorry, Binnie," you're barely able to get out. "I care about you so much. I would never..."

You feel a twist of guilt settle in your stomach, but he doesn’t pile on. Nor does he guilt you. That’s not who Soobin is.

“You didn’t forget because you don’t care,” he says softly. “I know you. You just… never forget things like that. I know how overwhelmed you've been.”

Soobin doesn’t say more. He just lifts the blanket, a wordless invitation smoothed between the wrinkles in the couch cushions. When you lie down beside him, it’s quiet again. The kind that’s warm this time—full of unspoken things and shared breath. His arms curl around you instinctively. He presses his face into your neck like he’s been holding in the need to feel you all week.

"I hate this," he breathes out, almost like he's embarrassed to say it. "Hate only seeing you like this."

You swallow hard, because you feel it too. You've never been good at this. Never been good at showing Soobin just how close you want—no, need—to be near him.

You try to apologize. To say something, anything about work. About your stupid boss, the lack of breaks, the lack of appreciation, the unpaid overtime.

And he lets you ramble on. Because this is his favorite thing in the entire world—hearing your sweet voice talking about your day, getting to hold you while you do it. His eyes are sparkling and trained on your face, attention undivided as you vent. Soobin's heart thunders beneath his rib cage.

You’re halfway through telling him all the messy details—words spilling too fast, casual but unfocused, like you’re trying to outrun your own exhaustion. There’s a thin sheen of energy in your voice, but it’s cracked at the edges. You yawn mid-sentence, barely stifling it behind the back of your hand.

Soobin notices the way you press on like you aren't seconds from collapsing. He always does.

You brush it off like you usually do, reaching for a water bottle on the coffee table, already moving on to the next thought. But before you can, Soobin gently lays his hand over yours.

“You’re tired.”

You blink at him. “I’m fine.”

“You come home and talk like you haven’t breathed in hours," he chuckles through a sigh. There’s no judgment in his voice, just a quiet hurt.

That makes you stop. Not because you disagree, but because he said it like he’s been holding it in for too long. You never really knew how to be present with him. Even in times like this, when you knew he needed it most.

He sits up straight, shifting his body to face you fully. His hand doesn’t leave yours.

“I know you don’t like stopping. I know being tired makes you feel like you’re falling behind. But I promise it's okay to slow down once in a while.”

"Binnie..." Your voice trails off.

“You didn’t forget on purpose,” he says again, because he needs you to believe it. “But I still need you. I still want today to matter. Even if it’s just here, like this.”

His voice dips, eyes searching yours. "I know we've both been working a lot. But to be honest, this has been really killing me. Can't we just take our time tonight?"

And then he’s pulling you in—slowly, gently—his arms around you. The kind of embrace that doesn’t demand anything, only offers.

You don’t fight it, don't say anything. You just let yourself sink into his chest, right into the warmth of him. It’s the only place where you don’t have to be composed or efficient or fine. You just needed to be his.

His hand slides up your back. “Just… be here,” he murmurs into your hair. “For a little while.”

And for once, you let yourself stay still. His lips brush the crown of your head, barely there.

You feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against your cheek, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. He doesn’t rush you. But when you tilt your head up to look at him, his eyes are already on you. Warm and desperate. It’s not lust, not at first. It’s pure longing.

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing beneath your eye like he’s trying to memorize you. You can’t help but lean into his angelic touch. Then his mouth is on yours. A slow and needy kiss that says I’ve missed you, stay forever.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds back even as his fingers slip under your shirt, testing you, as if he’s asking for permission with every touch.

You give it with ease.

When you shift into his lap, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck, the ache of it all hits him.

Soobin holds you like he’s scared you’ll disappear again. His tongue is pressed between your lips, scaling every inch of your mouth that it can reach. An exasperated moan leaves you in a low sigh, and he swallows it down greedily. You unravel against one another, piece by piece.

The growing tightness in Soobin's pants presses firmly against you. You were beginning to throb for him and his attention alone. No distractions or distance, just this—focused and intentional.

Even though your lips moved unhurriedly, you have to pull away for air. But he doesn't let you escape so easily, keeping his forehead pressed firm against your own.

Soobin wants your attention on nothing but him tonight, that’s a promise he kept for himself. Before your mind can race, he's rubbing circles with his thumb over your leggings, stealing your mind away from stress and thoughts of work, locking them away where they’d be forced to put Soobin at the forefront.

Your leggings, usually an inconvenient barrier, were completely soaked through to the skin. It left Soobin no problem in rubbing every sensitive spot you yearned for him to reach.

A shaky breath leaves your lips. "Fuck, been needing you so bad. Been so stressed out." His eyes are trained on the outline of your folds, your cunt basically sucking in the soaked fabric and begging for his finger to follow suit. He wondered just how well you would suck his cock in if you were dripping and swelling like this already.

He groans loudly without remiss, throaty and strained, head dropping against your shoulder in self-control.

He continues to rub you lovingly, tearing his gaze from between your thighs to your face, smiling at the blush blooming across your nose and cheeks. His eyes flood with warmth when he speaks. "I want to do something."

“I’ll do anything,” you answer to him like you always have. Your time, your mind, your soul—he’s always had access to all of it, whenever he wanted.

Soobin’s smile spreads wide across his face, unable to contain it. His hands grip your hips before slipping beneath your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head with care.

Your breath catches. He looks almost shy when he speaks again.

“Can I just… stay inside you tonight?” His voice is hushed and reverent. “I don’t want to rush. I just—want to be close.”

A nod is all you need to deliver him. His hands are gripping just beneath your ass, standing up from the couch as he holds you. Your legs lock around his waist, keeping him close amidst the trek to your shared bedroom.

You noticed how deliberate Soobin was tonight—every step he took toward the bed felt endless. And when he finally lays you down against the soft cotton sheets, it’s like the world exhales. For the first time in a long time, you feel breathtakingly alive.

His movements flow into each other, rewriting time just to make this moment last longer. The only moment he disconnects himself from you his to peel off his own t-shirt. Your clothes are stripped from your body as well, more carefully than ever. Tender fingers work at the hem of your leggings, dragging them down your goose-bump ridden skin.

Soobin's lips are the only things moving quickly, wanting to feel your warm skin against them. He's kissing a trail across your chest, down your stomach, breath sucking in at the laced panties staring back at him.

The black material is sticky, soaked, and completely lost between your folds. Your head rested gently against a pillow slightly cocked to the side, peering down at him through hooded eyelids. He was so beautiful. All the time in the world belonged to you two.

"Mm, fuck baby," you're already whining out. Fuck these new schedules. Fuck your late nights. This is what you've both been denied for too long.

Large hands splayed across the curvature of your hips, gripping the flesh and securing you in place. Between your legs, he helped himself to one long, and slow drag of his tongue up your cunt. He breathed you in, fabric and all, with greed. It felt like a reward for the time he'd spent patiently craving for your presence.

Tender teeth got hold of your panties, dragging them halfway down your legs. A chill shoots up through you, his teeth grazing your inner thigh just enough. Soobin's fingers took over, sliding the material the rest of the way off.

One more lewd kiss against your cunt, this one hard and claiming, and he's up on his knees removing his sweatpants and underwear just as painfully slow. You'd never felt so prepared for Soobin in your entire relationship. Thighs and sheets stained with splotches of your sweet arousal, out of control.

Now fully undressed and erect against his toned stomach, Soobin takes his place next to you on the bed. He's propped up, back against the headboard, looking at you expectantly.

"Come here," his voice is so careful as he pats his lap. His voice holds the kind of care reserved for precious things.

You swing a leg over his waist with his help, straddling him where he sits. Soobin is silent, but his face says everything. His chin pressed to his chest as he looks between your legs, lips drawn rough between his teeth.

He keeps his hands at your waistline, lifting his hips just enough to align himself with your sopping entrance. You both hiss softly as the head of his cock slides against your folds, hot and thick. But he doesn’t push in just yet. He’s waiting for you again, asking for permission.

“Can I?” he whispers, even though you’ve already said yes in every way that counts.

You nod and sink down slowly, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside you. Neither of you moves. You just sit there, wrapped around him, buried in each other.

Your walls clench instinctively, and he emits a broken groan. But he doesn’t move, he doesn't fuck up into you—just presses his face into the crook of your neck and breathes.

This isn’t about sex for either of you. It’s about connection. Closeness. The ache to feel like you still belong to each other. Skin on skin, hearts syncing with every breath, you melt together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

Soobin stays nestled inside your warmth for so long that you begin to lose track of time. His hands draw lazy circles over your back, his lips brushing your shoulder in silent worship. Your arms hang around his neck, holding him close. Every now and then, your walls flutter around him, and he exhales a quiet curse into your skin.

Every moment spent inside you is marked by a kiss—some soft and delicate, others deep and bruising, left like claims on your neck. Soobin's voice is hushed, whispering over and over how much he adores you. His hands roam your body like he's rediscovering it all over again, tracing every dip, outlining the shape of you with his touch. He’s etching you into him.

Eventually, the stillness turns to tension. You shift your hips just slightly and feel him twitch inside you. His breath hitches, and you notice.

“Don’t do that,” Soobin murmurs, voice taught with restraint.

Your faces are pressed close, cheek to cheek. He can feel the graze of your hardened nipples against his chest, your shaky, uneven moans fanning hot against his ear. And suddenly, he’s entirely too aware of you—of how impossibly tight and perfect your body feels around him, like you were made to fit just like this.

"Sorry, Binne." You don’t mean for it to come out as a whimper, but it slips, drenched in need. “I’m just so full…”

You try to remain still, but your eyes are already glassy with want. And when your lips find his again, more desperate this time, he gives in.

He starts to move, gently at first. Rolling his hips into yours like it’s the first time all over again. You can tell he's afraid to shatter the moment, but can’t help needing you more.

Soobin's hand finds your hair, gripping firmly—not to dominate, but to really see you. He pulls back just enough to watch your face, to pass every wave of pleasure back and forth between your eyes. He makes love to you like he’s savoring it, dragging his cock in and out at the perfect angle, hitting your g-spot again and again with a patience that feels more like devotion than control.

But it’s not enough, not with how he feels inside you. How his cock stretches you open just right, how his eyes celebrate every inch of you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.

So you shift again—this time intentionally—lifting your hips just slightly before sinking back down. The friction makes your mouth fall open, a soft moan filling the air.

Soobin groans, his hands flying to your waist. “Baby…”

But you’re already moving again. A slow, teasing roll of your hips that pulls breathless curses from his lips. Your hands brace against his chest as you rise onto your knees and start to bounce—gently, at first, letting yourself adjust, letting the stretch fill you again and again. His cock drags along your walls in the most maddening way, kissing your sweet spot again and again.

His fingers dig into your sides, but he doesn’t stop you. He wouldn't dare. Instead, Soobin just watches you with his lips parted, chest rising and falling with every bounce. The expression on his face is pure awe. He can’t believe this is real. Spending time with you has never felt this heavenly. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, voice trembling as your thighs work to keep the pace. “So big…”

He sits up more to meet you halfway, arms wrapping around your waist as his mouth finds your chest—kissing, sucking, biting gently at your sensitive skin. Every time you sink down, his cock hits deeper, and the pleasure tightens in your belly like a fuse burning too close to the edge

“Just like that,” he breathes, kissing up your throat. “You ride me so well, baby. So fucking good for me…”

Your movements grow faster, more desperate, chasing the high together. Each bounce has you both gasping, moaning, gripping onto each other like you’ll fall apart if you let go.

His hands slide up your back, anchoring you to him, and when your forehead presses to his, his voice is barely audible.

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” Soobin’s thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles that have you squeezing tight around him. The sudden surge of pleasure makes your entire body jolt—your thighs trembling, your rhythm faltering.

“F–fuck!” he cries, his voice cracking as his core tightens beneath you. One hand claws at your back, desperate to ground himself, while the other keeps working your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge with each drawn-out stroke.

Your body trembles in his lap, chest heaving as you ride the crest of sensation. His name leaves your lips in a gasp, hips stuttering as you start to unravel for him. But Soobin doesn’t let up—he leans in, kissing you fervently. His voice is gravelly in your ear.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

And you do—your whole body shaking as pleasure rips through you, fluttering tight around him, squeezing him so perfectly he groans through gritted teeth. Your forehead drops against his shoulder, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. Soobin holds you through it, murmuring praise into your hair, letting you ride the waves until your hips finally still.

But he’s still hard, still tucked deep inside you. You blink, dazed, and meet his eyes.

“Soobin—”

“Not done,” he breathes, cupping your cheek. “Let me love you a little longer.”

He shifts, lifting you slightly before guiding you down onto your back, never slipping out. His body settles over yours, and he kisses you so slowly you forget how to breathe. It’s not rushed, none of this was. He wants to remember every expression and sound you make beneath him.

Soobin starts to move again, hips rolling deep, cock gliding into you with a drag that has your toes curling. Each thrust is slow yet hard, filling you to the brim. He's making sure you'll feel him for days.

“Still so wet,” he whispers, voice shaking from restraint. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

You nod with teary eyes, hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to fuck you just a little harder—still slow and sensual, but with the kind of focused passion that makes your whole body scream.

His lips find your neck again, then your jaw, then your mouth, speaking softly with his mouth pressed on yours. “Want you to feel everything, baby. Want you to remember this whenever our schedules are busy.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper, clutching at him.

“I won’t go anywhere,” he promises instantly, fucking into you with a little more urgency. “I’m right here. You’re mine.”

You moan his name again as he rocks into you, shifting his angle just slightly to hit your g-spot head-on. The overstimulation begins to take you over. Your back arches off the bed, and he catches you with one arm wrapped beneath you, pressing your bodies flush together, like even air between you would be too much distance.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, watching your face. “So good for me.”

You barely manage to choke out a response. You’re too full, too overwhelmed, and too wrapped up in the heat of his body and the impulse in his gaze.

He slows again as he nears the edge, you for a second time that night. Thrusts going deeper, heavier, until you’re clutching his hair, pulling him closer, whispering into his ear, “I want you to cum inside.”

Soobin groans deep in his chest at your admission and presses his forehead to yours, breathing unevenly.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

It only takes a few more slow, grinding thrusts before he’s burying himself to the hilt and pulsing inside you, arms shaking as he holds you close. His lips tremble against yours, his moans drawn out and desperate as he fills you. The inappropriate sounds quickly have your own, blinding orgasm flowing from you with ease.

He still doesn’t pull out.

Instead, he kisses you again, even sweeter, before shifting both of you onto your sides, tangled together, still joined.

You’re panting, but your heart is calm. You feel full in every way, wrapped in his warmth, your body and soul entirely his. Soobin strokes your hair, nose brushing your cheek.

“Stay just like this,” he whispers. “Let me keep you.”

You nod, one leg hiked over his hip, arms tucked against his chest. “Don’t let go.”

“Never,” he murmurs, breath hitching when your walls flutter again. “Fuck. You’re still gripping me so tight…”

You press your face into his neck, smiling softly. “That’s ‘cause I want you to stay.”

He chuckles, fingers tracing your spine. “Then I will. All night, baby. However long you’ll have me.”

You both fall quiet, still connected, warmth shared between flesh. The room feels sacred, filled with love, comfort, and the kind of silence that means everything. You make a mental note to call out of work the next morning.

Soobin stays inside you until you’re both asleep—bodies tangled, time slowed, nothing left to say but everything left to feel.

tags: @bunnysoonie @zznblr @twilght-talks @gyudollies @beomgyusluver @dawngyu @boba-beom @taebatu @simpforseoho @another-lemon-tree @yyeonbinn @chubichubs @jooyeonsvape @txt-thelmi @zorange13 @jellyyjn

feedback/comments/likes are always appreciated <3

[bambiihee-deactivated20260203]

CLOSET CONFESSIONS ˒˒ 휴닝카이

⧼ 📎 ⧽ 一 pairing。 ⸝⸝ huening kai x fem!reader 𓄵 feat。beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together

genre。⋆ smut, porn with some plot, fluff, coworkers to lovers

warnings。⸝⸝ office au, coworker!kai, trapped in the closet, thunderstorms, sex in the dark, power outages, switch!kai, dirty talk, praise kink, love confessions, unprotected sex, cumshot, pull out method, breast play, handjob, monster cock!kai, mating press, missionary wc。6 . 5 k ╱ ⧼ 📋 ⧽ 一 to library。

author's notes。⸝⸝ a rewrite of an older kai fic on my old blog, holiday decorating! i rewrote it so it's readable all year around hehe~~ hope you all enjoy!! just a quick lil fic while i work on my longer wips <3 i proofread this super duper fast so please let me know if there's any mistakes!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ FEEDBACK 𓇼 REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

No one had ever bothered to warn you about how difficult it was to plan an office party. Maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity when it had been presented to you; though it was awfully in your nature as a corporate kiss-ass to accept any work-related project that was offered to you. In all honesty, you agreed mostly in blind hope of impressing the higher ups, but part of you felt obligated to help when the retirement party you were asked to plan was for the woman you were hired to replace. 

“I'm sure you’ll do great,” your boss, Yeonjun, had reassured you with a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help!”

You were terrified to ask for help. You had only begun working at TXT Bank eight weeks ago, doing entry-level grunt work filing paperwork and filling out spreadsheets. You didn’t even know most of your coworker’s names yet, and you hardly felt comfortable approaching any of them to ask for help with a completely benefit-less side quest. It might just be the new employee paranoia eating at you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they wouldn’t be interested in helping you even if you did reach out and ask. The retiring analyst seems to have been a pretty popular staple in the office with decades of work under her belt, and you were a far cry away from the life of the party. You were young, inexperienced, and far too shy for your own good; in the short two months you’ve been employed at the bank, not once have any of your peers even attempted to engage in conversation with you aside from letting you know what you were doing wrong. Yeonjun’s personal assistant, Beomgyu, was the only person in the bank you felt even remotely comfortable being around, having known him from when you were still studying accounting in college. He was the one who got you the position in the first place, and without his mentoring and his happy-go-lucky attitude, you were sure that you would have buckled under the pressure long before now.

It’s only natural that he’s the first person you run to. Yeonjun said that there were party supplies somewhere hidden in the office… but couldn’t tell you exactly where.

“You don’t want my help, believe me,” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to face you. “I can’t decorate worth shit. Plus, Why don’t you go and ask Kai? He probably knows where everything is in this place. You and I both know he’ll say yes— hell, you could ask him to jump from the tenth floor and he’d do it. He’s obsessed with you.”

Playing quietly on Beomgyu’s computer was the early morning news, the strong voice of the weatherman drawing your brief attention. “Record-breaking storms are forecasted to hit the metropolitan area later this afternoon—”

“He’s not obsessed.” You retort weakly, rolling your eyes to counteract the immediate flush that rises on your cheeks. “He’s just a nice guy.”

“Sure, buying you coffee and lunch, following you around like a lost puppy, and offering to walk you to your car every night is just being nice.”

“I asked him to the first time! The parking garage gets so scary when it’s dark out…”

Huening Kai worked in the banks I.T. department, imprisoned down in the basement like tie-wearing goblins. Even then you saw him nearly every single day, the poor boy constantly running up and down the stairs whenever he was called; and everyone asked for Kai when they needed help, because he was just too sweet and polite to refuse. He was the only stranger to welcome you warmly when you first began, offering his unyielding assistance with a handsome crooked smile. He was a godsend those first few weeks, because the outdated software the bank still used went so far over your head it made you dizzy. You still haven’t gotten quite the hang of it, but that was probably because you found it extremely difficult to focus on what Kai was trying to teach you when he was leaning over your shoulder and murmuring in your ear so closely and intimately with that gentle voice of his. You only felt dizzier in his presence, so nothing he said ever stuck… though that worked just fine for you, because that meant you could keep asking for his help.

Beomgyu’s sworn up and down since your first day that Kai has a thing for you. You’re pretty sure he’s just that friendly and kind with everybody. 

As much as you hate it when Beomgyu’s right, Kai absolutely would help you out if you asked him to. You feel guilty for hogging up all of his time, as busy as he is even when he isn’t acting as everyone’s personal errand boy, but if Beomgyu won’t help you, he’s the only other person you’re willing to ask. When you see him again around noon, offering you half of his sandwich with bright eyes and that smile that never fails to give you butterflies, you ask him meekly if he’d be willing to help you find some supplies and decorations for the senior analyst’s retirement party. 

He accepts a little more enthusiastically than you anticipated he would. “There’s a storage closet in the basement that has some of the decorations we used for last year’s Christmas party. I can show it to you later if you’d like! It’ll have to be after everyone goes home, though. I’m technically not allowed to go rooting through storage.”

“There’s supposed to be a storm tonight,” you recall from the news earlier, “Maybe Yeonjun’ll let everyone go home early if it starts pouring. We could stay behind then?”

“Oh, that’s sneaky.” Kai giggles. “Sounds like a plan to me!”

Your heart raced the rest of the day. All you were doing was going through some old dusty decorations, so why were you getting butterflies as if Kai had asked you out on a date? It’s impossible to focus on any of your tasks, your eyes constantly darting between the clock and the gathering of grey clouds over the horizon. By three, the entire sky was taken over by them, dark and ominous, blocking out the sun and swathing the entire city in a foreboding darkness. A light sprinkling of rain at four quickly turns into a torrential downpour, raindrops pounding against the roof and the wind picking up until it’s shaking the windows. Yeonjun starts sending people home early at five, and by six the entire office was empty except for you and a few other hardworking stragglers. 

As much as it pains you to lie to your boss, it has to be done; when it’s your turn to be sent home, you tell Yeonjun that you have extra statements to go through that you want to be done with before you leave. You even make a show out of packing up your purse in front of him, going extra slow because Yeonjun always wanted to stay and chat. Thankfully, he leaves the office himself without much fuss, but only after reminding you twice to drive safely and jokingly warning you about getting out before the building collapses over your head. A little unfair for the poor security guards who had to stay overnight anyway, you think. 

“Of course, sir, thank you. Have a good night.” you reply to Yeonjun’s retreating back with a tight smile, praying to whatever deity would listen that you don’t look as guilty as you feel. 

Once you hear the front doors close shut behind him, you shoot up out of your desk and hightail it to the basement. You find Kai waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, grinning excitedly and waving with his bag slung over his shoulder. “It shouldn’t take us very long,” he says, turning and beckoning you with one of his large hands to follow him, “The closet’s pretty small. I want to get us both out of here before the storm gets even worse. Don’t like the thought of you driving in this weather as it is, but I also want to get you stuck in here all night waiting for it to blow over.”

You’re touched by his words, even if you wouldn’t really mind it if you ended up hunkered down in the basement with him overnight. He ushers you down a dimly lit hallway, long and narrow with identical little cubicle-like offices flanking both walls. Even with the offices empty, the cramped atmosphere made you feel tense and claustrophobic; something about the dark, empty windows and the uncanny silence gave you the creeps. Kai doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, however, hands in his pockets and his head held high as he leads you to the very end of the hallway, stopping at a scuffed, unmarked wooden door. A keypad affixed to the adjacent wall blinks brightly in the dark.

“Is this the storage closet you were talking about?” You ask, eyeing the door oddly. “It doesn’t look like a closet at all. Why’s it got a keypad?”

“It used to be a server room, I think. Long before I started working here. The old equipment is all still there.” Kai responds airily, plugging in the code for the keypad. “Now it’s just used to store stuff we don’t need. Only my department has access to it, though; expensive computers and whatnot. After last year’s Christmas party I helped put away everything, and I stored it all in here ‘cos I was too lazy to carry it to the attic.”

“We have an attic?”

“...Yes and no. There’s nothing up there that you want.” The keypad beeps and the little blinking red light turns green. Kai pulls the door open and gestures for you to step inside. 

There’s no windows in the old server room, you quickly realize; when the door swings shut behind the two of you, you’re plunged into complete blackness. You search blindly in the dark for the light switch, but Kai locates it with ease, switching it on with a soft click and flooding your senses with blinding fluorescent light. You have to blink hard a couple of times to adjust, your eyes squinting and watering as they slowly acclimate and take in your surroundings. Against each wall countless boxes are stacked up nearly to the ceiling, each one filled to the brim with dusty paperwork and ancient electronics, wires spilling over the sides. You spot a line of folding chairs leaned up against a filing cabinet, a ladder and an old printer. As Kai had mentioned earlier, numerous server racks filled up the room, abandoned and far too outdated to be of any use anymore. They were pushed aside like walls of a maze, creating a rough pathway through all of the junk just wide enough for you and Kai to stand shoulder to shoulder. You swallow down the lump in your throat and place your purse on an old desk, Kai copying you close behind. 

You can still hear the storm outside, even down here. The wind howls and whips around viciously, the rain sounding like a barrage of a thousand tiny bullets.

“There should be some stuff in the back,” Huening Kai murmurs, squeezing past you to make his way through the mountains of stuff. His chest brushes against your back as he moves past, and you can feel the firm planes of his pecs through the thin material of his button down shirt. “Tablecloths and ribbons and things. I’m pretty sure I hid them all back here so I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

You laugh airily, a little too distracted to pay much attention to what he was saying. “You? In trouble? I don’t think Yeonjun has the heart.”

Kai shrugs and breaks the tape seal on a random cardboard box, peering inside for a moment before shaking his head and placing it aside. “You’d be surprised. He’s still putting on a show for the new girl— you haven’t been around long enough to see what he’s really like. By the way, how are you liking it so far? Getting the hang of things?”

You should probably be looking around yourself, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back ripple through his shirt as he digs through boxes. “I, um. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m getting better. Thank you for your help, really— I appreciate it.”

The storm grows even louder outside, to the point that it’s beginning to frighten you. You don’t think you’ve ever heard of a building caving in from just a bad thunderstorm, but Yeonjun’s joke still rings in your ears; there’s a first for everything. 

If Kai notices that you haven’t moved away from the door, he doesn’t mention it. “You don’t need to thank me! I’m happy to help, really. Don’t be afraid to ask for help anytime you need it, Y/N. All you need to do is ask— you can always count on me.” He moves on to another box, still searching in vain for those decorations. “Who’s your favorite coworker? If you have one, I mean— ah, that’s a stupid question. It’s probably Beomgyu.”

Kai’s tone changes suddenly, from bright and friendly to something darker, something you couldn’t quite place. You’ve never seen Kai sound like that before, and it vanishes as fast as it came. He looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a smile, and you’re half convinced that you made it up. 

“What do you mean?” you prod, cocking your head. 

Kai’s silent for an awkward moment, seemingly weighing the question with a bite to the inside of his cheek and a quick aversion of his eyes. “Well, he’s your friend, right? From college. And I’ve heard that you spend time together outside of work, going out to bars and whatever. And, I mean… I see you with him every day, talking with him and laughing at his jokes. I thought you were together for a while, actually, with how he’s always looking at you. With his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect hair—”

You’re not really sure how to process that. “Kai… actually, my favorite coworker is you. I thought it was obvious.”

His head spins around so fast you’re afraid it’s going to fly right off. His big brown eyes are wide in shock. “Wait, what?! Really?!”

“Yes, really.” you giggle. “I thought you knew that, silly. Beomgyu’s my friend and all, but he gets on my nerves all the time. Kind of like a kid brother, I guess. You’ve been just so sweet to me when nobody else really has, and you’ve made me feel so welcome… It really means a lot.”

Kai’s face turns an adorable shade of bright pink, from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh. Well. Um. Thank you, I—” he looks away sharply, lowering his head to study the boxes again. His long bangs fall to cover his eyes, shielding the emotions that swirled in their dark chocolate depths. “I’m glad you feel that way… I can’t seem to find any of these stupid decorations, I’m worried we’re not going to be able to make it out of here before the power goes—” 

Flicker.

Pop.

You’re plunged into complete and total darkness. 

“—out.”

Kai straightens up sharply, or at least you’re pretty sure he did— you can’t even see your hands inches from your face. You screw your eyes shut and you see no difference, blind to everything except the cacophonous howling of the wind. 

“Shit!” Kai curses, the first time you’ve ever heard him do so. “Hold on, I can get us out of here—”

There’s a loud crash to your right. Kai must have run into one of those server racks trying to find his way around; you can hear him cursing under his breath as he stumbles around blindly, shuffling back to you one careful step at a time. The banging and crashing gets closer and closer, until it’s far too close— you open your mouth to warn him, but Kai barrels right into you before you could get a word out. He nearly knocks you to the ground, but his outstretched arms catch you before you fall. One arm wraps itself around your waist and the other… grabs a fat fistful of your breast. 

“Sorry!” Kai yelps, and it seems he doesn’t even notice just exactly where his hands had ended up, his hands large and warm and squeezing your flesh a little too tightly. The heat from his skin seeps through the material of your blouse and bra and floods your senses, erupts a fire in your chest that rushes straight down between your legs. 

As unwelcome as the feeling is, you can’t fight it off.

“Um, Kai.” you stutter, biting your lip to keep your voice as unassuming as possible. “That’s… that’s my boob.”

Kai tears his hands away as if he were touching hot coals, and much to your dismay you find yourself instantly craving his touch again. “I’m so sorry!!” he repeats in a rush of jumbled words, his usually deep voice a couple octaves higher. You’re sure his handsome face is glowing crimson red, and distantly you wish that the lights were on so you could see it. “I–I, I didn’t mean to, I swear!” 

“I know you didn’t, don’t worry,” you reassure him, reaching out yourself to help him right himself and walk past you to the door. You can hear him pressing buttons frantically on the keypad, but the device doesn’t beep or flash any lights. He curses again and slams his fist against the wall, the loud thud echoing throughout the quiet dark room. 

“We’re stuck in here.” Kai mutters to you in dismay. 

You blanche. “What do you mean we’re stuck in here?!”

“The door automatically locks itself when it closes and the keypad is the only thing that unlocks it… and it turned off when the power went out. It’s alright though! The backup generator should turn on any minute now!” 

The two of you stand around in silence for a long, extremely awkward moment. The backup generator does not turn on. 

“Okay, or not.” Kai gripes. “That’s fine. This is fine. We’ll get out of here somehow— here, let me turn on my phone’s flashlight—” 

He rummages around in his pockets noisily before making a triumphant little giggle; you anticipate seeing the little flashlight on his cellphone turn on and finally illuminate the all-encompassing dark, but the light never comes. 

“...And my phone’s dead. Great. Just great.” 

“You really need to get better about charging that thing.” You quip sarcastically. “How many times have you asked to borrow my charger? I only bring it now because I know you’ll need it.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t— wait, really? Just for me?” 

You don’t answer, your cheeks flaring up from the confession you didn’t mean to let slide. “My phone should still have a charge.” You tell him, an attempt to change the subject. “But I left it in my purse. I think I remember where I put it… let me try and grab it.” 

Carefully, you begin to shuffle your way towards the far right corner of the room, where you’re at least partially confident that the desk was. Kai follows you closely, his hands balancing on your shoulders to keep the both of you steady. It was a fine idea at first, when the two of you were making good headway, but you didn’t get very far at all before you’re once again losing your balance.

You barely manage a few short steps before one of your kitten heels catches on something rolling around on the ground; Kai must have knocked over a few boxes on his way over to you, little plastic bulbs that feel an awful lot like Christmas ornaments, the ones that Kai had put there when he wasn’t supposed to. You trip and stumble, but you probably could have caught yourself easily if it wasn’t for Kai’s big tall body tripping and stumbling right with you. The both of you come crashing down to the floor, your sharp gasp drowned out by Kai’s loud, girly shriek right into your ear. He squishes you against the cold linoleum, his chest pressed against your back and keeping you pinned down, hips flush against your ass. You try to wriggle free, but Kai is just too heavy, completely motionless and oddly silent as he breathes quick and hard against the back of your neck. “Oh my god, Huening Kai, you oaf, get off me!” you whine, attempting in vain to push yourself up onto your knees. The movement makes your hips swivel against Kai’s own, akin to a bucking horse trying to unseat its rider, and that’s when you feel it. 

Your pencil skirt has ridden up so high that your entire ass is exposed, covered up only by your underwear and pantyhose, and you can feel every inch of Kai’s hardening dick press up against you as if there were no clothes between the two of you at all. You can feel everything, the weight and the curve of it, slotted perfectly between your asscheeks like it belonged there. The way it twitches violently in his slacks when you gasp.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers quietly, his head buried in your shoulder, voice wobbly like he was going to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” It’s just then do you register his hands on your hips, touching you so intimately, steadfast in their movements rubbing up and down your ass and thighs despite the way he was shaking like a leaf. He’s never been this close before, his body so sculpted and masculine against you. His soft plump lips ghost over the exposed skin of your collarbone and wafts of his musky cologne cloud your senses. You shouldn’t do this, you should remain professional… but you’ve wanted Huening Kai more than you’ve ever wanted any other man, since you first laid eyes on him, and having him pressed up against you so helpless and vulnerable has destroyed your control and reason. All you can think about is that Kai wanted you too, and the proof was straining against the fly of his pants begging to be freed. 

You roll your hips back against him slowly, as if not to startle him— the broken moan that falls from those kissable lips is downright obscene, whiny and desperate, shooting hot sparks of pleasure down your body to your core. 

“A-ah, did you, um— Y-you didn’t mean to d-do that, right?” Kai murmurs in a small voice. His cock grows even harder against you. 

You can’t take it anymore; in Kai’s dazed state you manage to pull yourself up from underneath him and spin around to reach out wildly in his general direction. One of your fists manages to wrap around his tie, and with a sharp tug Kai’s lips come crashing down onto yours. His lips are soft and pillowy against your own, tasting a little sweet, like the tea with milk and honey he enjoys drinking while he works. His panting breath tickles your skin, his fingers coming up to card through your hair as you both open your mouths and breathe each other in. Your bodies press together heatedly, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, groping and pushing and pulling, desperate to get closer even if it was impossible. Kai’s other hand slides down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers. Swathed in all this darkness, it was easy to forget that you weren’t dreaming. 

You’ve never kissed or been kissed quite like this before. 

“Does that answer your question?” You giggle when you part for air. Kai pants hotly into your mouth like a thirsty dog before descending down upon you to recapture your lips himself. 

This kiss is even more heated than the last, Kai prying your lips apart to deepen the passion with his teeth and tongue. You wish you could see, could admire the sharp tic of his jaw as he kisses you, lose yourself in his beautiful brown eyes. Bear some witness to something you had been confident would never happen. You can feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, blood rushing in your ears to drown out the storm as you both fumble with each other's clothes. Kai’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing harshly when you slide your hand down his chest and belly to catch on his belt buckle. It’s a hassle to unfasten in the dark, but you manage to tear both his belt and fly open and fish his hot throbbing cock out of his boxers. You wrap your hand around it, so fat your fingers barely connect— Kai lets out a strangled whine as you stroke up his shaft to thumb at his tip, thick globs of precum wetting your hand. 

Kai’s hands come back to your breasts, but this time on purpose; he gropes and squeezes greedily, pressing the flesh together before letting them bounce back into place. Just one of his hands is enough to cover the entirety of your tit, your bra doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden and beg for his attention. He pinches and rolls them between his fingers through your shirt, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. 

“T-take it off!” he grits out against your lips, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. “Please, gotta feel—”

An affirming hum is all he needs. He tears your blouse open with a strength you didn’t know he had, the fabric ripping loudly and the buttons popping off. Roughly he pulls your bra down just enough for your breasts to fall out, heated flesh and hard nipples pebbling in the cold air. Kai quickly warms them up with his fingers, tugging and rolling your beds between his thumbs and forefingers, the pleasure making you keen wantonly. 

“Kai! That shirt was expensive!” you complain, but you stroke his twitching cock even faster; you couldn’t find it within yourself to care much about anything that wasn’t Kai’s hands on you, and as much as you enjoyed listening to him get embarrassed you didn’t want him stopping again to apologize any more than he already has. 

“Couldn’t help it, just love your tits,” Kai groans, letting go of your nipples to grope and massage the fat mounds of your breasts. His grip gets tighter with every flick of your wrist, his breath fanning over you in short airy pants. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, it makes me insane. Running around in those tight tops and those short little skirts, I just want to— a-anh!— f-fuck you all the time!”

“Kai,” you plead, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the searing heat growing between them. 

“I wish I could see you right now,” he continues, and you jump at the sudden electric sensation of a hot wet tongue sliding against your nipple. “I could probably cum just from how hot you look— God, I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”

His plump, spit-slick lips seal themselves around your hard bud, his hands continuing to play with your chest as he sucks and nibbles. You cry out high in your throat, letting go of his twitching cock to crumple your fist in his shirt. Your pussy aches to be touched, dripping so much slick that you’re sure you’ve completely ruined your panties. Kai's fingers and mouth are better than anything you’ve ever felt before, good enough to make you cum from just this alone, you’re sure, but the cavernous hunger that’s developed within you desperately, wildly, primally demands more.

“Touch me!” you beg him, pulling him impossibly closer, right where you need him most. “Kai, please touch me!”

Kai gives your nipple one last tug between his teeth before pulling off with a pop, leaving your breasts covered in his spit and erupting in goose flesh from the frigid air. Slowly and carefully he crawls himself between your open legs, sliding his fingers underneath your bunched up skirt. He runs a fingertip down the gusset of your panties, just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make you keen in delight. “You’re so wet,” he laments, sounding utterly ruined, two thick fingers rubbing your weeping pussy lips over the lace, circling your clit until you mewl, “Made a mess in your panties… Did I really make you this wet? That’s so fucking hot…”

He relinquishes his finger, and you’re not sure what you were expecting next, but it definitely wasn’t for him to grab ahold of your pantyhose and underwear and tear them from your body in one powerful yank. The nylon and lace rip like paper, the ghastly sound ringing in your ears, and Kai tosses the shredded fabric to the side along with your buttons before positioning himself to kneel between your thighs.

“I’ll do more than touch you if you’ll let me,” he whispers in your ear, running his hand up your inner thigh, leaving behind a burning trail in it’s wake, “I wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please, can I? I’ll buy you new clothes, I’ll do anything you want, just let me ruin you…”

“We don’t have a condom…” you breathe, but you widen your legs to give him more room anyway. Usually that would be a deal-breaker for you, but you’ve already done more in this closet than you would have ever even dreamed of doing. 

“I'll pull out, I promise.” Kai's voice is far too soothing for your own good, those terrible, god-sent big hands grabbing ahold of the back of your knees to expose you even further. You can hardly think at all anymore, too focused on the throbbing need swirling deep in your pussy, and how good it would feel if you would take the risk and just let go.

“Please…” is all you can manage to say, and with a delighted groan, Huening folds your legs up to rest on his shoulders and positions his weeping cock at your entrance. It feels so filthy, with your torn-up pantyhose still clinging to your legs and your heels hanging from your toes, and once again you wish that you could see just how lewd of a sight the two of you were.

Kai slides his cock up and down between your folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with your juices. His bulbous cockhead bumps deliciously against your clit before gliding back down to your entrance, pressing against the rim of your hole just enough to tease before letting up and doing it again. As hot as it is and as good as it feels, you can’t handle any teasing anymore, not when you’ve been on the edge and in need of release for this long.

“Put it in!” you cry, and you can hardly recognize your own voice. You sound so needy, so pornographic— it would be humiliating if you weren’t this far gone. “Please, please, need you s’bad, Kai, need your cock…”

Kai shushes you with an unexpectedly chaste kiss, sweet and gentle and nothing at all like the way he was thrusting himself inside of your tight wet heat like an animal. The stretch burns so good you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming, his cock longer and fatter than any you’ve ever taken before. For a delirious moment you worry that he’ll tear you in half, that he won’t fit, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he forces his way deeper and deeper, until his tip kisses your cervix and his balls slap wetly against your ass.

“S-so big…” you slur against his skin, clawing weakly at his shoulders. Your mouth is slack and drooling and your mind was blank of everything except for how impossibly full you feel. 

“Is it too much?” Kai asks nervously, back to his sweet anxious self for a split second. “I’m so sorry, sweetie, I couldn’t stop myself, your pussy’s sucking me in—”

“Nooo! It feels so goo–o–ood!” you mewl dumbly, finding it harder and harder to string a sentence together the longer Kai’s inside of you. “Need more, Hyuka! Give it to me!” 

The innocent nickname makes him moan, and just like you wanted and pleaded for he begins to fuck you in sincere earnest. His thrusts are fast and brutal, lit by a deep, primal fire you had no idea he possessed. It knocks the wind out of you, overwhelmed in the best possible way, your mouth falling slack and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, moaning in delight every time his cock spears your cervix.

“Deep! So f-fucking deep!” you hiccup breathlessly, surrendering yourself completely to the onslaught of red-hot pleasure. You can feel him in your belly, right under your navel, your wet little pussy squelching obscenely with every movement of Kai's hips. He finds your sweet spot with shocking ease, angling his cock to drag against that spongey bundle of nerves and make you gush. 

“Yeah?” he croons, thrusting himself inside of you impossibly harder, faster, “Feels so good, huh? Fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight— best cunt i’ve ever had, baby, feels better than I ever imagined…! Can’t let you go now, perfect girl, all for me. This perfect pussy’s all mine, you hear, no one else's!”

He recaptures your pert nipple between his lips, suckling even rougher than before; your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, sensitive flesh jiggling in his face as he trails his teeth and tongue across the planes of your cleavage, leaving dusky love bites in his wake. He slobbers over your tits like a hungry dog, his moans and whines muffled by your nipples he takes turns slurping them up into his mouth. The pangs of pleasure from your sore nipples combined with Kai's quickening pace and filthy words tug you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, the fiery hot tsunami building deep within your belly threatening to overflow and toss you into its euphoric depths.

“God, I love you,” kai admits as he continues to babble nonsense, seemingly not noticing just what was coming out of his mouth, “I’ve been wanting you for so fucking long, needed you  so bad— my pretty girl, so beautiful, I wanna see your face when you cum. You’ve gotta look so sexy when you cum.”

Your heart clenches along with your cunt. 

There is nothing you can see, but there is plenty you can hear— Kai’s hips clapping against your ass, his beautiful broken whimpering, the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around his cock. You open your mouth to speak, voice the mounting ecstasy that built steadily in your throbbing cunt, but you can’t seem to get out anything other than shrill, pathetic cries of pleasure. Your mind was wiped completely blank, nothing but static behind your eyes, thoughts filled with nothing except the pressure in your core and how good it would feel if you let it consume you.

“I’m gonna cum!” you wail, using up all your energy into making yourself speak— Kai groans happily, his thrusts turning desperate and sloppy, speeding up to pound your sweet spot into oblivion.

“Yes! Fuck yes, cum with me, angel, come on. You can do it.” He coos into your ear, voice shaking as his body jolts and shudders above you. His hands come down to press hard on your engorged, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles against the throbbing bud. “That’s it, make a mess, cum all over my cock!” 

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking from overwhelming pleasure as you pulsate and gush around him. You recognize distantly that you’re squirting, droplets of viscous liquid splashing all over your tummy and thighs, drenching Huening’s own as well. His own climax is triggered by the violent pulsing of your gummy walls around him, and he wrenches out his cock from your quivering pussy just milliseconds before ropes and ropes of thick, sticky cum splatters hot and wet all over your heaving tits.

“Holy fuck.” Kai whispers, unable to catch his breath. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

You just giggle weakly, trying to calm down your racing heart yourself. The two of you lay against each other in silence for a moment basking in the afterglow while you both come down from your highs. Your orgasm sucked all the life force out of you, it seemed, leaving you weak and exhausted as you lay boneless on the cold storage closet floor.

And just like that, the lights turn back on. The vents begin to whir and suck out the hot, sweaty air, but the stench of sex still lingers. You’re nearly blindsided after spending so long in the dark, screwing up your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

Kai is staring right back at you.

His dark hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, eyes blown wide and his cheeks dusted pink. His tie is half-undone and his work shirt is terribly wrinkled, drenched in what you can only assume to be your juices. His softening cock lies against his thigh, poking out from his unzipped fly, slacks just as damp and ruined as his shirt was. His chest heaves with the force of his breaths, no doubt taking in your own appearance himself. You look down just enough to see your torn clothes, your cum stained breasts and wet thighs, your smart professional outfit looking like it was ravaged by some sort of rabid animal.

“You look beautiful.” Kai whispers in rapture. 

“Um.” you respond smartly, cheeks burning. Averting your eyes you check the door; the keypad is blinking cheerfully at you, as if it had never turned off in the first place. It’s just then that you realize you can’t hear the storm anymore. The worst must have ended while you were occupied with other things.

“Do… you want to keep looking for those decorations?” Kai prods gently. You shoot him a quizzical glare.

“I want to go home.” you grumble lightheartedly. “I don’t give a damn about that stupid party anymore. I’ll just ask Yeonjun for his credit card.”

Kai smiles, that signature smile that gives you even more butterflies now than it ever did before. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say. Does my home work for you? We can watch a movie and get takeout. Or, I mean, you don’t have to, we can just leave and go our separate ways and—”

“I’d love to.” you snicker, leaning forward to steal a kiss. “Should we take separate cars, though? It would be suspicious if we showed back up tomorrow together.”

“We’ll be sneaky about it. We’re good at that.”

©BAMBIIHEE 2025. all rights reserved.

[taebinlvr]

— txt twt links

nsfw + mdni . . . started gathering clips for fun and went crazy <3 catch me pushing size kink soobin and overstim kink hyuka

txt masterlist .

────────────────────────────────────────────

yeonjun .

getting you alll worked up with his fingers but ONLY letting you cum on his cock :3

loves fucking up into you

making you squirt on his fingers

soobin .

letting you ride him

he's so big compared to you >< !!

lapping at your pussy

beomgyu .

right by the window for everyone to see <3

he lovesss holding you close to him

got distracted while playing games together hehe

taehyun .

pounding you with his fingers <3

holding you up

squirting all over him :(

huening kai .

between your thighs

so gentle when he goes down on you <3

he can't stop cumming inside you !!