content warnings/tags: MEN AND MINORS DNI, fluff, nsfw, blowjob, heat, p in v, oral sex
a/n: we will revive aespa x reader tumblr. mark my words.
part 2
puppy!minjeong will always give you kisses and licks when you get home but acts all shy when you start praising her
puppy!minjeong who is as shy as dogs come in but you love her so much because of it
puppy!minjeong who loves having a collar with your name at the back of it
puppy!minjeong who lays her head on your lap whenever you’re watching TV
puppy!minjeong who pouts when you say no to more treats
but the moment her ears droop and she starts walking away, you go over to the kitchen to get her a treat which she always runs to you and licks your face
puppy!minjeong who when in heat is more clingy and begs to be inside you
puppy!minjeong who is so so whiny whenever she's inside you
"Yes— please."
"I can't wait— I'm cumming inside."
"I need to breed you. My pups will be inside your tummy."
"One more my love, for me, please."
puppy!minjeong who you need to take birth control for because you aren't ready to have kids
puppy!minjeong who is sad whenever you tell her you took a plan b but understands that you don't want them yet… and that it wasn't a 'never'
puppy!minjeong who lays her head on your lap whenever you're watching a movie
puppy!minjeong who loves it when you pet her ears
puppy!minjeong who loves it whenever you ride her
puppy!minjeong who loves watching her cock going in and out of your pussy
puppy!minjeong who has a big cock and always shushes her to go slow with you for at least a few minutes so it doesn't hurt when she puts it in
puppy!minjeong who loves getting a blowjob from you but cannot last for the life of her.
puppy!minjeong who likes sitting in your lap and sniffing your scent
puppy!minjeong who growls when other hybrids try to get near you
puppy!minjeong who uses her puppy dog eyes to get anything she wants
but she stomps whenever you don't give in and lies down on the floor with a soft expression and pouty lips
puppy!minjeong who you squish her cheeks whenever and blushes red like no other
"aren't you so cuteee" you giggle
minjeong turns red and tries to shake you off but you won't let her
puppy!minjeong who loves you more than anything else in this world.
summary. being trapped in a packed bus is already suffocating, but it turns unbearable when a stranger presses against you from behind, her touch deliberate and invasive, slipping over you in places no one else can see—leaving you frozen in place with no room to escape, no way to stop her.
you let out a sigh, a gust of stale morning air escaping your lungs as you waited for the train at the station. today wasn’t your day. not by a long shot. you’d overslept. again. the groan that had ripped from your throat when your eyes finally fluttered open, not to the gentle chime of your alarm but to the harsh, unforgiving digits of your phone screen screaming 8:47 am, was something you’d probably remember on your deathbed. class started at 9:00 am. and here you were, shivering slightly on a concrete platform, the metallic tang of train exhaust clinging to the damp air like a second skin. great. just absolutely, spectacularly great.
the internal monologue had been running for a full twenty minutes, a relentless, self-flagellating loop. why hadn't you charged your phone properly? why had you watched that one more episode? why, for the love of all that was holy, had your internal clock, usually so dependable, decided to stage a full-blown rebellion this morning? professor armitage’s european history lecture was not one to be missed. he had a sixth sense for tardiness, a hawkish glare that could wither even the most brazen of latecomers. and today, of all days, he was supposed to be introducing the unit on the french revolution – your favourite, the one you’d been looking forward to dissecting with your meticulous notes and your overly enthusiastic annotations. now, you’d be sneaking in, a phantom of shame, hoping to blend into the back row, a task as futile as trying to hide in a snowstorm wearing a neon coat.
you pulled your backpack tighter, the straps digging into your shoulders, a physical manifestation of the mental burden. the fabric felt flimsy against your skin, a poor barrier against the chill that seemed to seep up from the very ground. you wished you’d grabbed that extra hoodie, but in your panicked dash from the apartment, toiletries still scattered haphazardly across the bathroom counter, the idea of layering had been secondary to the primal urge to simply get out. now, your teeth chattered faintly, a rhythm accompaniment to the frantic beating of your heart.
the platform was a mosaic of humanity, a strange tableau of early-morning rituals. business types, already suited and booted, stood with an air of practiced patience, their briefcases clutched like lifelines. their faces were impassive, perhaps already calculating the day’s first profit margins or mentally reviewing their presentations. you envied their composure, their almost robotic efficiency. beside them, a group of students, likely also bound for campus, laughed too loudly at some inside joke, their voices cutting through the low hum of the station. you watched them, a pang of self-pity twisting in your gut. they were probably on time, perhaps even early, already caffeinated and ready to face the day. you, on the other hand, felt like a hastily assembled frankenstein's monster of regret and panic.
a woman with a bright pink scarf and an impossibly large floral tote bag consulted her watch every thirty seconds, her brow furrowed in a familiar gesture of impatience. you found yourself mirroring her, pulling your phone out for the fifth time in as many minutes, as if the mere act of checking would somehow magically conjure the train from the tunnel’s depths. no new updates. still showing “delayed – 5-7 mins.” five to seven minutes felt like an eternity when every tick of the clock was a hammer blow to your academic aspirations.
you let your gaze drift along the tracks, a dark, gleaming ribbon stretching into the shadowed maw of the tunnel. distant lights flickered, remnants of the city’s nocturnal life, now fading into the grey dawn. the air down here was thick with the smell of damp concrete and something vaguely metallic, a scent that had become synonymous with the start of your day, a scent you usually tolerated, even found comforting in its predictability. but today, it just compounded the sense of being trapped, marooned in this underground limbo.
a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the platform. you straightened, a fresh surge of hope, sharp and fragile, blossoming in your chest. was that it? was that the train? you craned your neck, straining to hear over the murmur of the crowd, the low thrum of the station’s ventilation system. nothing. just the continued, unchanging drone. you sagged, a little deflated. false alarm. your mind, ever the masochist, immediately conjured professor armitage’s face, his expression of barely concealed disappointment as you sidled into class, twenty, maybe even thirty minutes late. he’d pause, mid-sentence, his gaze fixing on you, the entire lecture hall turning as one to witness your walk of shame. you could already feel the blush creeping up your neck.
you fished in your pocket for your wireless earbuds, a small comfort. maybe some music would drown out the internal cacophony. but as your fingers brushed against the empty fabric, you remembered – they were still on your nightstand, forlornly charging. of course they were. just another small nail in the coffin of your morning. you shoved your hands into your pockets, the cold seeping through your thin trousers.
a group of pigeons, bold and opportunistic, strutted across the tracks, pecking at unseen crumbs, seemingly unbothered by the impending arrival of a multi-ton metal beast. you watched them, a strange sense of calm momentarily settling over you. how simple their lives seemed. eat, strut, fly. no deadlines, no lectures, no disapproving professors. a fleeting thought crossed your mind: what if you just… didn’t go? what if you turned around, went home, and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over your head and pretending the day never happened? the thought was immediately dismissed. as much as you hated the present moment, you also hated the idea of giving up, of letting one bad morning derail your entire week. besides, your tuition fees were a constant, nagging reminder that skipping class was a luxury you couldn’t afford.
you checked your phone again. still 5-7 minutes. it felt like time had stretched, rubber-banding into an agonizing eternity. each minute that ticked by felt like ten. the numbers on your screen seemed to mock you, static and unchanging, yet the world outside was moving, accelerating, leaving you behind. your stomach growled, a hollow, echoing sound in the quiet space of your consciousness. you hadn't eaten. another casualty of the morning rush. the thought of a warm coffee, a flaky pastry, made your mouth water, a cruel taunt.
the crowd on the platform was growing denser now. more people were streaming down the escalators, their footsteps echoing on the polished tiles. the air grew warmer, filled with the collective body heat of humanity. you shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot, but every inch of the platform seemed to be occupied. students with textbooks slung over their shoulders, office workers tapping away on tablets, tourists with bulky backpacks looking slightly bewildered. you were just one among many, a single, insignificant cog in the vast, grinding machine of the morning commute.
you tried to distract yourself by observing the advertisements plastered on the station walls. a smiling family eating cereal. a sleek new phone. a travel destination with impossibly blue water. they were all designed to entice, to promise a better, brighter future. you scoffed internally. right now, your future consisted of a desperate scramble to reach campus and a red-faced apology.
a muffled clatter came from down the tunnel. this time, it was distinct. not a tremor, but an actual sound, like distant thunder. your head snapped up, your eyes fixed on the black opening. another wave of hope, stronger this time, surged through you. this had to be it. you could feel the collective anticipation radiating from the other commuters, a silent, shared yearning for movement. a low rumble started, growing louder, vibrating through the soles of your shoes, up your legs, making your very bones hum.
the air in the tunnel began to stir, a subtle gust preceding the beast. a few stray pieces of litter – a discarded coffee cup, a crumpled newspaper – danced briefly on the platform edge, caught in the nascent breeze. the rumble intensified, a powerful, guttural growl that resonated deep in your chest. you could hear the distinct, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of the wheels on the tracks, the unmistakable sound of a train approaching. it was here. finally.
and then, a tiny, distant pinprick of light appeared in the darkness, growing rapidly, blossoming into a blinding, cyclopean eye. the sound became a roar, a crescendo of grinding metal and rushing wind. the ground beneath your feet vibrated violently, the sensation traveling up your spine, making your hair stand on end. the train charged out of the tunnel, a blur of silver and grey, a metallic leviathan bearing down on the station.
a collective sigh, almost imperceptible, rippled through the crowd. people leaned forward, jostling slightly, ready to move. the train’s brakes shrieked, a high-pitched, agonizing wail that grated on your nerves, but it was the sound of salvation. sparks flew from beneath the carriage as it slowed, a fleeting, brilliant display against the dull morning light. the wind gusted, pushing against you, a powerful, cleansing wave, carrying with it the smell of ozone and hot metal.
the first carriage rumbled past, a smear of windows, indistinguishable faces. then the second. then the third. and as each section of the train slid into view, your heart, which had been soaring with relief, began to sink, slow and heavy, like a stone in a well. your eyes scanned the windows, hopeful at first, then increasingly desperate.
it was packed. every single window, every single panel, was a solid wall of humanity. faces pressed against the glass, eyes unfocused, bodies molded together like clay. there were no seats. there was barely even standing room. people were crammed shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, their faces displaying a mixture of resignation and grim determination. you could see arms clutching poles, briefcases tucked awkwardly between legs, backpacks slung at precarious angles. it wasn't just full. it was beyond full. it was an impossibility of human density.
the train finally shuddered to a halt, its doors hissing open with a pneumatic sigh, revealing the impossible crush within. not a single gap. not a sliver of space. the air inside seemed to ripple with the heat and breath of countless bodies. you stared, your mouth slightly agape, the initial rush of relief morphing into a cold, hard knot of despair. you had made it to the station, the train had arrived, but it was all for naught. it was completely, utterly, hopelessly full.
you don’t even have a moment to think because a large group of people appear behind you, rushing to get on the train and pushing you inside in the process. there isn’t much room, so you can’t try to get somewhere comfortable, just stand here.
a sensation of a body pressing against yours becomes present. obviously this would happen, as the train was more than full, practically exploding — but this was different... it was as if that was the person’s purpose; to be pressed against you like that.
looking over your shoulder you see a girl, one wearing formal clothes, probably going to work or school. she had a cap on, along with headphones that buzzed slightly. maybe she didn’t realize what she was doing? the train was so crowded, it probably wasn’t intentional…
the train car was packed, people standing in the aisles and filling every available seat. winter had managed to position herself behind you, her body pressed close to your back in the crowded space. she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke softly, her voice barely audible over the clacking of the train on the tracks.
“spread your legs for me, angel. just a little, that’s it.” winter murmured, her hands resting on your hips and applying the slightest pressure. the action forced you to shift your stance, widening your stance and giving her just a bit more room.
was this really happening? was this strange girl trying to touch you just now? on the train? you know this isn’t right, that what she’s doing is definitely not right, but for some reason, you just couldn't find it possible to say no… maybe because the pervert is a pretty girl and not a weird old man? maybe, or actually, that’s the real answer.
emboldened, winter’s hands slid down to your thighs, her fingers tracing the soft skin through the fabric of your skirt. she caressed your thighs slowly, her touch lingering and sensual, even as people jostled around you in the crowded car. no one paid you any mind, assuming her touches were innocent and friendly.
her touch was electric, sending shivers up your spine. she leaned in again, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, “come on, spread your legs for me, baby. just a little, so i can reach that pretty pussy of yours.”
you complied, subtly shifting your stance to grant her access. as the train continued to roll on, winter’s hands crept higher, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt. her fingers found the edge of your panties, and she traced the delicate lace, teasing you through the thin barrier. you could feel the heat of her touch even through the fabric, your body responding eagerly to her bold caress.
she traced the edge, teasing, before slipping beneath the fabric to cup your mound. your breath hitched at the intimate touch in such a public setting. “i’ve barely touched you, and you’re dripping. such a naughty girl, getting turned on in public like this.”
she rubbed your slit through your panties, applying delicious pressure to your sensitive clit. you had to bite back a moan, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. winter’s other hand slid around to your hip, gripping it possessively as she pulled you harder against her.
suddenly, winter hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugged, pulling the fabric aside. cool air kissed your heated skin for a fleeting moment before her fingers found your bare, slick folds. winter’s breath hitched as she felt your arousal, your wetness coating her fingertips as she stroked along your slit.
“fuck, you're so wet, doll.” winter breathed, her voice a husky whisper against your ear. “i can feel how much you want this, how badly you need to be touched right here, right now.”
behind you, winter started to grind against your ass, the hard ridge of her arousal nestling in the cleft of your cheeks. she moved subtly, working her hips in a slow, steady rhythm as she touched you. the sensation of her, hard and wanting, pressing against you in a crowded train car was intensely erotic.
she stroked you slowly, teasingly, her fingers gliding through your wetness. your knees started to tremble as she touched you, the pleasure building with each pass of her fingers over your sensitive flesh.
“that’s it, baby. stay quiet for me.” winter purred, her breath hot against your ear. “don’t let them hear you. don’t let them know i’m fingerfucking this tight little cunt right here where anyone could see.”
winter felt your body tense and shudder against hers as she stroked your aching sex, your arousal coating her fingers. she could sense your desperation, your need for release building with each pass of her digits over your swollen, throbbing clit.
“that’s my good girl, staying so quiet for me.” winter praised, her voice a low, seductive murmur in your ear. “but i can feel how much you need it, angel. i can feel your greedy little pussy clenching around my fingers, begging for more.”
she slipped a second finger inside you, pumping them slowly, steadily. her thumb circled your clit, rubbing firm, deliberate pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves. your hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction, that intense pleasure.
all around you, the train clattered and swayed, the chatter of passengers filling the air. none of them had any idea of the lewd act taking place right before their unsuspecting eyes. you were just another commuter, pressed into the crowded car, your face flushed and your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
winter curled her fingers inside you, stroking that special spot that made your toes curl and your back arch. she rubbed your g–spot with unerring precision as she flicked your clit hard and fast, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“come on, baby. give in.” winter breathed against your ear, her voice rough and ragged with lust. “i want to feel this pretty pussy spasm around my fingers, want to feel your sweet cream flooding my hand. do it, doll. come for me, right here where anyone could see.”
her words, her touch, the sheer depravity of the situation — it all conspired to push you over the precipice. your climax hit you like a freight train, your body convulsing and shaking as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.
as your orgasm overtook you, winter muffled your cries of pleasure with her hand, pressing her palm firmly against your mouth. your teeth sank into the soft flesh as your body shook and trembled, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around winter’s invading fingers.
“that’s it, angel. fuck yes, come on my fingers.” winter panted, feeling your release soaking through your panties, dripping down her hand. “your cunt is squeezing me so tight, baby. i can feel every little spasm, every little twitch as you come apart.”
she continued to stroke you through your climax, gentling her touch as the intensity began to ebb. winter’s other hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft mound. she pinched your nipple through your shirt, rolling the hardened peak between her fingers.
as your breathing slowly returned to normal, winter slowly withdrew her fingers from your still–twitching sex. she brought them to her mouth, making a show of licking your juices from the digits, savoring your taste.
“mmmh, you’re absolutely delicious, doll.” she purred, her voice low and satisfied. “i could eat this sweet cunt for hours, taste your pleasure over and over again.”
behind you, winter pressed her hips forward, grinding her still–bard cock against your ass. she nuzzled into your neck, her lips brushing your ear. “what do you say we find a bathroom, hmm? i’m not nearly done with you yet, my perfect little whore.”
winter took your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers as she led you through the crowded train car. she guided you towards the back, to the small bathroom tucked away in the corner. with a deft twist of her wrist, she pushed open the door and pulled you inside, locking it behind you.
the bathroom was cramped, the space barely big enough for one person. but it was private, and that was all that mattered to winter right now. she pushed you up against the door, her body pinning yours as she claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.
her hands slid under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and over your head. she broke the kiss just long enough to tug the garment off and toss it aside, leaving you bare from the waist up. winter’s gaze raked over your breasts, her eyes dark with desire.
“fuck, you have the most perfect tits, doll.” she breathed, cupping the soft mounds in her hands. she leaned down, taking one rosy nipple into her mouth, suckling greedily. her tongue swirled around the hardened peak, teasing and tormenting you.
winter’s hands slid down your body, finding the zipper of your skirt. she tugged it down, letting the fabric pool at your feet. her fingers hooked into the waistband of your soaked panties, and with a sharp tug, she yanked them down your legs, baring your glistening sex to her hungry gaze.
she pressed a finger into your dripping slit, stroking your sensitive flesh. “i can’t get enough of this tight little cunt.” winter growled, pumping her finger slowly, steadily. “i want to fuck you in every corner of this goddamn train, want to claim this sexy body again and again until everyone knows you belong to me.”
her other hand slid up your thigh, squeezing the supple flesh. she hitched your leg up around her hip, opening you wider, giving her better access to your aching sex. winter pressed the thick head of her cock against your entrance, the heat of her arousal searing you even through the fabric of her pants.
“tell me you want it, angel.” she demanded, her voice rough and ragged with lust. “tell me you need my cock splitting you open, filling this greedy pussy.”
“... can you– ugh, can you fuck me? please?” you never thought you’d get to the point of begging for it, much less to a stranger you just met less than thirty minutes ago, but here you were, begging to be fucked like a pathetic whore. really pathetic.
winter’s eyes flashed with triumph and desire as your needy plea filled the small bathroom. with a low, guttural groan, she captured your lips in a bruising kiss, her tongue plundering your mouth as she ground her hips forward, the thick ridge of her cock pushing insistently against your dripping slit.
she fumbled with the button of her pants, popping it open and shoving the fabric down her hips. her boxers followed, freeing her straining erection. winter wrapped her hand around the throbbing shaft, stroking it once, twice, before notching the swollen head at your entrance.
with a swift, hard thrust, she buried herself inside you, spearing your tight heat with her thick length. a low, animalistic growl tore from her throat at the sudden, intense pleasure of your velvet walls gripping him like a vice.
“fuck, baby! you’re so goddamn tight.” winter panted, her hips flush against yours as she savored the feeling of your body stretched around his. she rolled her hips, grinding against your clit, stirring your insides with his hardness.
her mouth found your throat, her teeth sinking into the tender flesh as she started to move. winter set a hard, fast pace, pounding into your willing body with deep, powerful thrusts. the bathroom filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, your gasps and moans and winter’s harsh pants.
she hitched your leg higher, changing the angle of her thrusts. each drive of her hips pressed against your g–spot, sending bolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine. winter could feel your body starting to tighten, your pussy starting to flutter around her plunging cock.
“fuck, i can feel you squeezing me, baby.” she groaned, her voice strained with the effort of holding back her own release. “you gonna come on my cock like a good girl? gonna milk me dry with this perfect little cunt?”
winter’s hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit. She rubbed the sensitive bud hard and fast, flicking it in time with her increasingly erratic thrusts. she could feel her own climax building, her balls tightening as the pleasure mounted.
“come on, baby. let me feel you come apart on my cock.” winter commanded, her voice a low, lust–filled growl. “i want to feel this sexy body shaking and trembling as I fill you up, want to hear you scream my name for everyone on this fucking train to hear.”
she captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as she slammed into you one last time. winter’s hips jerked and stilled, buried to the hilt inside your spasming sex as she found her own release. her cock throbbed and pulsed, painting your insides with thick, hot ropes of her seed.
you two stayed locked together, winter’s softening length still nestled deep inside you, as the waves of their shared climax crashed over them. your bodies heaved with labored breaths, slick with sweat and exertion. winter pressed tender kisses to your face, your neck, your chest, murmuring words of praise and adoration.
“fuck, i love this pussy.” she breathed, her voice raw and sated. “i love you so goddamn much, angel. you’re perfect, you know that? my perfect little fuck toy, my sexy goddess.”
she nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin, the musky aroma of your lovemaking. winter knew she’d never get enough of you, would always crave your touch, your taste, the feeling of your luscious body wrapped around her own.
finally, with great reluctance, she eased out of you, hersing softly at the sensation. a trickle of their combined juices leaked down your thigh, a testament to their passionate coupling. winter watched, enraptured, as she slowly, carefully cleaned you up, worshipping every inch of your skin with reverent hands and lips.
“such a good girl.” she praised, pressing a last, lingering kiss to your sex before standing and tugging you into a tight embrace. “my perfect little cum dump. i can’t wait to do this again and again, until the whole fucking train knows who this sweet cunt belongs to.”
