Warnings: lots of filth (because why not???), explicit sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, aggressive sex, slight impreg kink, foul language, sentence fragments + my scattered train of thought lmao, etc. DO NOT READ AND DO NOT INTERACT IF UNDERAGE.
Recommended Listening: Track 1, Track 2
Author’s Note: ty for the request, anon! this was a nice lil exercise to get into the right headspace to come back to writing heh. please enjoy!
/
If I was born as a blackthorn tree
I’d wanna be felled by you, held by you
Fuel the pyre of your enemies
Nothing fucks with my baby
Nothing, nothing, nothing
/
Mujin doesn’t let just anyone into his bed. He’s extremely picky about partners. He knows what’s at stake, he knows what he has to lose. Dongcheon has always come before anything and everything else.
And so when he eventually (jfc) chooses a partner, you can bet that it’s going to be a long-term, exclusive arrangement.
Here are the facts: Choi Mujin does not share. Choi Mujin calls the shots. And, lastly, Choi Mujin does not half ass anything. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to fuck you.
Once he sets his sights on you, he knows he has to have you. It’s weeks in the making. His team is intent on gathering as much intel as possible. It kind of ruins the mood for him tbh but he knows the organization comes first. He could never let anything dangerous potentially enter their midst.
But once you two have passed all the hoops and obstacles, you are together. Just a man and a woman.
Finally.
Choi Mujin always burns hot, this uncontrollable fire of a man, but he is nothing if not patient.
He will take his time with you, especially in the beginning. He will pick you apart, piece by piece, until you fall apart -- and then will painstakingly put you back together again with the same attentiveness too. He will want to know every freckle, every birth mark. Will memorize the spots that make you keen and shudder.
(This initial process may take days, maybe weeks. He will seem almost possessed, in the moment, intent only on learning every single inch of you. He denies himself sex and simple pleasures so often. He has a lot of pent up energy and lost time to make up for lol. Make sure you stay hydrated and eat when he tells you to. You’ll need the energy to keep up with him tbh.)
You’ll learn quickly that oral sex is an artform with him. He will lay you out on his bed, on his desk, on his couch, on his bar. Will have you sprawled out, legs over his shoulders, back arching off of the floor of his hotel executive office suite. Will eat you out anywhere and everywhere. If he’s craving it (and lbr, when is he not?) and your legs are parting, willing, he will take you and eat you out like a man starved.
Maybe you’ve had bad experiences with oral sex before. Maybe your lovers haven’t enjoyed it nearly as much in the past. Whatever the case, Choi Mujin will destroy every single preconception or insecurity you may have had around it. Pussy is a delicacy. There’s no place better than having his face pressed between your legs, nose pressed into you, breathing you in. Mouth sucking noisily at your clit. Jaw dripping wet and your thighs burning from his stubble dragging along the soft skin there.
The noisiest pussy eater ever tbh.
Likes when it’s messy, likes when it’s wet. Likes coming away from between your legs with his entire mouth and face dripping with your want all over his chin and jaw. Shows him just how much you wanted this -- wanted him. He lives for this shit.
Overstimulation to the max. Will drag out orgasm after orgasm just with his mouth and fingers alone. Probably hasn’t even taken off his dress shirt yet, when you’re already shivering and shuddering and twitching on his floor.
Expect lots of dirty talk. He’s not one for degradation though. He isn’t here to call you a bitch or a slut. No, no, no. That’s all wrong. You’re the one he chose, the one he wanted, the one he craved. He’s going to treat you like a princess. He’s going to treat you like his queen.
Fuck, baby, you’re beautiful. Look at you. Perfect. Gorgeous. Look at the mess you’ve made. Such a messy, messy girl. Do you want my cock? Tell me you want it. Tell me exactly what you want. I’ll give you everything you need.
The size difference is extreme. He’s a big man. Big hands, big feet, big chest, big cock. And even if not for the sheer size of his person, his energy is even bigger. It wouldn’t matter if you were a foot taller than him, he has a remarkable talent for making everyone standing in front of him feel unfathomably small.
(Side note: His cock isn’t some monster porn cock lmao. Maybe slightly longer than the average man. But it is t h i c k. Wide and thick and heavy in a way that you probably aren’t used to. Good luck.)
It’s interesting to see him unravel during sex. He remains firmly in control for the first few sessions, I think. Is still testing the boundaries. Still seeing how far he can push you, how much you’ll take, how much you want him. Is gentle when he first slides into you, knows he may be too big. Presses his fingers into your mouth so that you have something to cry into and comforts you in a low, quiet murmur.
Is soft, that first round. Slow. Thrusts are unhurried, almost lazy. Lets you feel him, inch for inch, until you can adjust to his girth. Takes his time fucking you until you think you may become wild for it, fully adjusted and slick and desperate, your own hips lifting up off the bed to meet his. Tell me what you need, baby. Be a good girl and tell me what you want.
After that, all bets are off the table. I hope you have your seat belt on.
Mujin is animalistic during sex. Once he’s fully comfortable with you (and you with him), he will fuck you like a man deranged.
Loves wild, desperate sex, your fingers clawing down his back and his hand pressed to your throat. Loves when you buck against him, desperate for his cock, all inhibitions gone and thrown away. That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want. Let me give you what you need. Expect tons of growling and tightly gripped hands and wet, sweat-drenched skin. Will plow into you like there’s no tomorrow.
Will also mark the shit out of you. His teeth and mouth will be everywhere. There won’t be a piece of clothing out in the world that can hide just how much he’s marked up your neck and back and thighs. Is extremely possessive. Needs to know that the world will know you belong to him. Needs you to know that you belong to him.
Honestly, a few sessions in, when he’s barely lucid and already completely safe and comfortable with you, his dirty talk will probably get even filthier. Want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Want my come all over you, inside you. You belong to me, baby. Honey. Let me fill you up. Fuck this cunt. Fuck this pussy. My pussy. My good girl.
Is almost always barebacking, I think. Especially once you two have that kind of established relationship. There’s just something so animalistic and satisfying, for him, to be able to cum inside of you. To watch it dribble out of you after. To know that you will walk around in the world, on the streets, past strangers -- all these men and women -- who will not know that he is leaking out of you.
Or maybe they will? Maybe they’ll be able to smell him on you? Maybe his scent, all wood and leather and cigarettes and sex, will be so deeply embedded into you by the time he’s had his fill.
It’s shit like that that gets him off most tbh.
Oh god I’m already past 1k LMAO let’s wrap this up... THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIMPLE EXERCISE CALLA WYD
Okay but after everything is said and done, he will hold you and let you curl into him. Will smile when you fold yourself to fit against him, your flushed, red face pressed thankfully into the expanse of his sweaty chest. Enjoys when you let him care for you like this. He is as protective as he is possessive. Let him protect you, let him hold you.
You will be sore all over and Mujin’s chest will be heaving from the effort. Who knows how long you two have been at it? How many days has it been? How many times did he feed you by hand, when you were too dazed and barely lucid to feed yourself?
He will press a glass of water to your mouth. Will swipe your sweaty hair away from your face. Kiss your temple. Probably draw you a bath.
...And bide his time until he can do this all over again. And again, and again, and again...
So... what would sex be like with Mujin, you asked, anon??? Expect to be destroyed. He will ruin you, in the very best way possible.
Request: mujin doesn’t usually engage in affairs with bored housewives but the reader is different.
Word Count: currently 2.5k words and only a third done jfc.
Genre: smut with some pining/angst, i'm not even sorry.
Warnings: no warnings in the preview. but full work will contain: infidelity (married reader cheating on her husband with choi mujin, other characters also cheating on their spouses), manipulative behavior, possessive behavior, jealousy, explicit sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!!), older man and younger woman, my name drama spoilers, dirty talk (he has a filthy mouth tbh).
Author's Note: i had no idea that this would be the first thing i posted on this blog but here we are. here's a quick preview (quick, she says, for 600+ words lmao) to what i'll be posting next week. please like/reply if you'd like to be tagged when i post the full piece! lyrics are from glass animals' heat waves.
/
Sometimes, all I think about is you
Late nights in the middle of June
Heat waves been faking me out
Can't make you happier now
/
21.
The first time you meet him, you're twenty-one.
You're in over your head, then. Surrounded by leering men who seem convinced that they have too much money and too much time to burn. Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart. Who are you to deny them? Wasn't that the point of this entire charade anyway?
You're dressed in your friend's dress — a size too small — and your roommate's shoes — a size too big — knocking back the drinks they buy you, one after another. Your friend is already gone, eyes hazy as she slumps against her catch for the night. A younger gentleman from the crowd, with a round, boyish face and sweet eyes. You know not to trust them, though. His wedding ring glints from where his hand sits, draped casually over your friend's thigh.
You drain the rest of your wine glass.
And then... he steps into the bar.
His entrance seems to suck the air out of the room like a vacuum. You're pulled into his gravity, wine-drunk and helpless. You never stood a chance.
His suit is impeccable, stretching over broad shoulders and cut at the waist. Audemars Piguet hangs off his wrist. It shines when he raises a tanned, golden hand to rub at his jaw, thumb smoothing over the neat stubble at his jaw.
He is single-handedly more expensive than all of the men in the room combined.
Even your friend is roused by his entrance, stirring awake against the young married man at her side. He seems relieved when she doesn't stray any further. The rest of the men in the room seem to go one of two ways: either scrambling to greet this new guest like royalty — or aggressively shifting their weight to shield him from view of their own ladies for the night. Do you need another drink, my dear? Should I buy you another?
"Who's that?" you murmur under your breath.
Your friend hums, lacing her fingers with the young man now, gazing up at him through her lashes even as she replies to you.
"President Choi," she smiles coyly, voice drowsy but far too confident. "Liber's sole owner and CEO. Owns seven hotels and three resorts. Forty-six years old and one of South Korea's most desirable bachelors…"
She pauses, raising the young man's hand up to her mouth. Presses a kiss to his wedding band and laughs when he flushes at the gesture.
"...who is single and has never married," she wraps up her thought with a grin, tittering behind his guilty fingers. Her gaze sweeps from his red face to your own distracted one, raising a brow when she sees the way you stare.
He's being led away by a waiter, flanked by several men on either side. A private room, probably — to the relief of all the other weak men in this godforsaken bar. There's no reason why royalty needs to sit here. His eyes never meet yours. You press your thighs together and wish your wine glass was full, still. Your mouth has gone dry with want.
"He's never taken a woman," your friend adds on, shaking you out of your trance. Her voice is firmer now, just in the slightest degree. Just enough for you to catch on. The man at her side doesn't seem to notice. You turn to look at her and her gaze has gone steely, lips pursed as she studies you intently, a warning clear as day in her voice. "He doesn't mess around like the others."
Somehow, this fact only fans the flame beginning to start afire in your stomach even more.
15. things you said with too many miles between us --- For Taeju x Female Reader. Thanks!
Things you said with too many miles between us.
Track 15 - Love In the Dark
Warnings: None, just angst above the cut and under the cut I’M SORRY
It feels like we're oceans apart
There is so much space between us
Baby, we're already defeated
Everything changed me
And I don't think you can save me
/
You know it's him before he even speaks.
You answer the call — Unknown Caller, the screen reads — without even a second of hesitation. You hold the phone to your ear with a trembling hand. You wait.
It's sad, isn't it? It seems that's all you do these days.
The first thing he says is your name.
The relief is evident in his voice when he murmurs it on the other end of the line. Your heart seizes in your chest at the familiar sound. It wraps around the syllables of your name like a childhood blanket. Soft and familiar and warm, even after all this time.
(You are a child, coming home after a blustering day, the sun already gone down but the lights on and dinner on the table. You are a flower, winter-beaten and wilted, turning your face up to the first spring sun. It has been so cold without him. It is so warm, when he's by your side.)
You hate how much you love it.
"Don't say my name," you finally reply, voice as shaky as your hands. "You don't get to say my name."
His voice, as warm as it is, comes resigned.
"I know."
This only angers you even more. You grip your phone as tightly as you can, shocked that it has not crumbled already in your hold. You've already shattered in his.
"It's been nine days, Jung Taeju," you grit into the phone. All I do is wait for you. "Choi Mujin's face has been all over the news. I had to hear about the attack from the girls at the bar and — and I haven't even seen you in nine days. I haven't heard from you in nine days. Are you even in Seoul anymore? Do you even care? I thought you had died."
Silence stretches between you two, like the distance of his absence for the last few agonizing days.
( Unnie, didn't you hear? Dongcheon was busted last night. Choi Mujin's been handed over to the police. A rival gang ambushed the gym too. Four people died. Taeju oppa didn't call you yet? Are you — do you think — they didn't announce any of the deceased yet, could he… )
And then: "I'm not in Seoul," is the only question he chooses to answer.
He continues before you can stop him.
"I won't be able to come back to Seoul for a long time. I won't be able to come by for family dinners on Sundays and I won't be able to pick you up after you've had too much to drink after work," his voice is slow. Measured. Matter-of-fact and rational — as if he's listing off an unfinished to-do list and not hammering in the final nails in the coffin of this misguided romance, about to die at his hands once and for all. "You always get sick in December, so make sure you dress more warmly then. I've arranged flowers for your mother's memorial service already, so don't be surprised when they're delivered. Junho has already been by your apartment today while you were working to change the locks on your door. Gangjae has been taken care of. He won't be able to hurt you again."
You wonder if maybe you shouldn't have picked up this phone call after all.
At least, then, you'd still be allowed to wait.
At least, then, you'd still believe he'd come back to you after this long, long winter.
"Your sister's hospital bill has been paid. I moved some funds to your bank account too. You should be able to return to your classes by next semester. I had — I had Junho fix the lightbulb in your kitchen. I'm sorry I didn't get to do it for you when you asked," he continues. Taeju clears his voice once. The words come out tighter now. "The police will be looking for me. Tell them… tell them you had nothing to do with me."
The tears are hot down your face.
"You didn't know me," Taeju's voice is firm. He doesn't sound like the person you had known anymore.
The last time you had heard his voice, he had been murmuring your name, kissing your temple, pulling the blankets back up to your chin as he slipped out of your warm bed. You had known him then. He had loved you then.
You angrily wipe the tears off your face.
No. No, he loves you now too.
You won't let him erase that truth away.
"— They wont bother you if that's the case. We were careful, so just — live as if you'd never met me. As if you'd never known me. You'll live better that way —"
"Don't tell me how to live my life, Jung Taeju," you finally cut him off, your voice watery but firm. He has not given you a single chance to speak, to argue, to protest. You won't let him interrupt you now either. "I'm not touching your money. I'll pay for my sister's bill on my own. You already promised to be at my mother's memorial service, so deliver the flowers yourself."
The way he whispers your name after breaks you.
"Don't do this," he whispers, voice as broken as you feel. Gone is the facade, the nonchalance, the professionalism. Taeju's voice is soft and ragged, wrapping around you like unfinished silk. "Don't be like this. Please. I need to keep you safe—"
"Then keep me safe yourself," you bite back, angry and afraid and aching.
Maybe it's better that he's not in Seoul.
He'd feel terrible, if he saw you crying like this.
"I'm going to wait for you," you promise vehemently. You are the winter flower, sturdy and resilient and strong as you wait for spring. You are his girl — only his — who will wait all her days, just to see him come home. You're strong enough. He has loved you so deeply and so thoroughly that you will be strong enough to weather this storm. "So come back when… when this has all passed. When you've fixed all of this. Come back to me."
You hang up before you can hear his answer — before he can protest or agree or anything else in between.
You've made your choice. His opinion on it is irrelevant.
