“you’re so pretty binnie.” you softly whispered as your lips drag across his abs. wonbin’s fingers now in your hair, gently caressing your scalp. “keep going baby.” but you weren’t pleased. no not at well. slowly lifting your head to look up at him—his eyes widened. how could he forget? “p-please. i’m sorry. i meant, please keep going.” and just like that you nodded and he was able to breathe again, not wanting to be punished. you continued to place soft kisses against his skin. biting down in a playful manner just to get a reaction out of him. “such a good boy for me.” “t-thank you. i know my manners well. you taught me.” and you nodded once more. “i taught my boy well, didn’t i?” and he nodded.
“why don’t.. you let mommy play with you, hm? would the good boy like that? i did say we could have some fun tonight since you’ve been so good for me.” his bangs covered his face as he nodded his head quickly and he looked so cute. so sweet. so.. good. biting down on your lip, you undid his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. his red leaking tip hitting the side of your face. his thick lips parted and a pretty gasp soon left them. “look at you, always so ready for me.”
“p-please touch me.” and you did. of course you did. he was the prettiest boy ever. your fingers wrapped around his length and painfully rubbed up and down, watching his eyebrows furrow as his hips snapped—obviously wanting and needing more but you stopped him from continuing. leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his tip. “why don’t we try something else, hm? i want you to get up for me.” it didn’t take him long to listen and sit up watching as you pulled one of the pillows you slept on. “um.. what are you doing?” wonbin looked at you for any sort of answer until.. you tapped on the pillow. “i want you to ride it. ride it while i watch.” and his face reddened. he swore he was as red as a damn tomato at this point. he wasn’t so sure about this but he wanted to be a good boy for you. he soon straddled the pillow and his hips immediately thrusted up causing him to gasp and turn his head to look at you.
“just like that.” you said, pushing a few strands of his dark hair out of his face. wonbin nodded his head and continued to hump the pillow—legs already shaking from how sensitive he was. that and.. he was truly embarrassed but it turned him on. “oh fuck..” he gasped again and you reached to grab ahold of his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “such a good boy fucking my pillow like this. does it feel good baby?” and he didn’t say a word. just nodded as more small gasps and whimpers left his plump lips. “did you forget how to use your words?” he whined. “f-feels so good! b-but.. not as good as mommy’s pussy.” you were pleased with his response. always such a good boy who didn’t forget his place and who made him feel the best. “that’s right baby. you’re such a smart boy.” he nodded. dark bangs in his face, sweat rolling down his red cheeks, hips snapping back and forth in an aggressive manner.
“can i cum.. please! i need to cum.” and you thought for a moment. should you let him? you didn’t say a word. allowing your fingers to run down his abs before slowly nodding your head. “sure. but only.. in my mouth.” wonbin nodded as you sank down beside the bed on your knees, your face closer to his cock now as he continued to rub it against the pillow. his body shook as you knew he was close. “fuck! a-ah..” his whimpers was music to your ears. wonbin grabbed ahold of his cock and made sure to aim it perfectly against your tongue before releasing his load into your mouth. you gripped his shaky thighs, keeping his steady as he thanked you over and over again for making him cum so hard.
“t-thank you. thank you mommy.” you pulled him into your chest as he his rested against your breasts. “now, my turn!” is all you said before he looked up at you with a sweet smile on his perfect lips. “always.”
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 sub park wonbin, dom reader, toxic relationship, manipulation, smut
synopsis: park wonbin was never meant to be yours, but you took him anyway. sweet, obedient, so achingly desperate for love—he was the perfect marionette, his heart strung up in the cruel architecture of your design. you pull, he bends. you sever, he bleeds. and no matter how deep the wounds, how sharp the cruelty, he still crawls back to you, clinging to the illusion that one day, you might love him too.
WARNINGS: reader is lowkey evil, extreme manipulation, toxic relationship, smut, degradation kink, oral (fem receiving), riding, unprotected sex
a/n: i originally planned on making this a full story but i gave up on it lol. enjoy me basically working on my smut writing and further pushing the sub wonbin agenda.
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
“go on, spit it out,” you purr, your voice low and languid as if each word were a strand of smoke drifting upward in the amber glow of a dying streetlamp.
the cigarette dangles effortlessly between your manicured fingers, its ember a fleeting, molten beacon of your authority. every exhale sends tendrils of smoke twisting into the night—a silent, seductive display of control over the fragile soul before you.
there he is, park wonbin, crumpled on trembling knees like a discarded puppet, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the coarse fabric of his joggers as if trying to stitch together a semblance of dignity. his head hangs low, the weight of your disdain bending him into an image of utter vulnerability. his eyes, framed by those delicate, almost angelic lashes, flicker upward, pleading for a mercy he knows will never come.
a soft, broken whine escapes him—a sound so feeble it almost blends into the silent atmosphere.
“please…” he begs, voice cracking like fragile glass under the relentless pressure of your gaze.
and oh, how your eyes sparkle with a predatory thrill at the sight. in that moment, you are both the storm and the calm, the predator and the seductress, relishing the exquisite power you wield over him.
you savor the delicious irony: his desperation is as intoxicating as it is pitiful, a testament to his own self-loathing and dependence. in your mind, he is nothing more than a marionette, his strings tangled in the web of his low self-esteem—a marionette that you alone command.
your lips twist into a cruel, knowing smile as you recall every moment he has allowed himself to be diminished at your feet.
“i thought i told you i didn’t need you anymore. we’re not together,” you declare, your tone as cold and unyielding as shattered ice.
each syllable is a calculated blow, designed to shatter the remnants of hope clinging to him like cobwebs in a forgotten corner.
his response is almost immediate—a desperate, halting plea: “please, please don’t leave me.”
a single tear carves a slow, tragic path down his flushed cheek—a glistening, sorrowful trail that promises more misery with every future encounter. that tear is a silent dirge, a poignant whisper of the pain he is doomed to endure as he falls ever deeper under your thrall.
you let out a soft, mirthless laugh—a sound that mingles amusement with the bitter tang of sadism—as if his despair were the sweetest of delicacies.
“look at you,” you sneer, the words dripping with disdain and a venomous delight, “so pathetic, baby. you’re nothing but a fucking loser.”
the harshness of your tone slices through the air, each word a dagger that etches itself into the fabric of his already fragile existence. your eyes, alight with malicious satisfaction, drink in his humiliation—the trembling of his hands, the pitiful arch of his neck, the way his gaze flickers in hopeless yearning.
wonbin shakes his head, his silent defiance drowned by torrents of tears that trace glistening paths down his cheeks. in those tear-filled eyes—eyes that still shimmer with unblemished worship and raw, desperate love—there lingers a fragile plea, even as you strip him of every ounce of dignity until he is nothing more than a trembling husk at your mercy.
you marvel at your own twisted fortune, a dark, delicious irony that you have managed to ensnare the sweetest boy imaginable.
once, he had been an unassuming beacon of purity—a soul untouched by the lurking malevolence of the world. his innocence, so palpable and inviting, made him the perfect canvas upon which you could paint your cruelty.
with a single, calculated touch, you reduced him to a shell, hollowed out by the weight of your disdain.
every moment, every whispered command that made him beg for even the smallest shard of your care, your fleeting attention, your warped semblance of love, filled you with an intoxicating sense of power.
it was an art—a perverse ballet of manipulation and need—rendered all the more exquisite by the ease with which you could coax his submission. in the raw vulnerability of his pleas, you found a delicious thrill: to watch him crumble, to revel in the simplicity of his dependency.
it was, quite simply, too fucking easy.
“yes, you are. look at yourself, binnie—you’re nothing but a pathetic little mess,” you intone, your voice a silken dagger that cuts through the heavy silence.
in this macabre dance of power and submission, you are both the maestro and the executioner, orchestrating his suffering with meticulous precision. his vulnerability is a canvas upon which you paint with strokes of cruelty and contempt, each taunt and dismissive glance reaffirming your control.
despite his soft, pleading nature and the desperate glimmer in his eyes, he remains ensnared in the cruel allure of your toxicity—a moth drawn to the flame of your sadistic charm.
“my pathetic little mess. isn’t that right baby?”
a testament to the dark magic you wield, a spell that transmutes his pain into a feverish adoration. you watch as the very sound of you seizing him, of taking possession of his being, sends a shiver of twisted warmth through his fragile heart.
how the raw, obsessive need that festers within him awakens at your words, stoking a flame of devotion that borders on madness.
with a desperate urgency, he bridges the gap between you, collapsing at your feet like a supplicant before an unyielding deity. his trembling fingers, delicate as autumn leaves caught in a winter wind, wrap themselves around you—a desperate grasp that speaks of a soul laid bare and irrevocably broken.
“yours,” he begs in a husky whisper, “please, let me be yours.”
his plea tumbles out in a babble of unguarded vulnerability, each word stripping away layers of his self-respect until nothing remains but a raw, exposed yearning. even as you try to pull away, his grip only tightens, anchoring you to his orbit with an inescapable gravity born of sheer desperation.
“i love you—fuck— i love you so, so much. i love you so much, i can’t live without you, please,” he rasps, his head nuzzling against your thigh like a forlorn kitten, his every touch a plea for acknowledgement.
in that trembling, pitiful moment, his submission is complete—a living, breathing monument to the ruin of his own self-worth, molded by your relentless, toxic affection.
“you love me?” you echo, your tone a silken rasp that drips with condescension as you gaze down at him.
the thrill that courses through you—an illicit, heady rush born from looking upon his crumpled, desperate form—spurs a wicked smile to curl your lips.
wonbin’s response is immediate—a frantic, almost imperceptible nod, his head bobbing in a frantic, subservient rhythm as if each movement were a heartbeat of his existence.
you can’t help but revel in it.
of course he does. how could he not, when you have meticulously unraveled his naive understanding of love and refashioned it into something dark, something twisted to serve your insatiable desires?
to wonbin, love has always been the epitome of blind devotion—a soul-wrenching, all-consuming inferno of emotions aimed solely at you. even as your words cut and your dismissals wound, his adoration grows ever more fervent, binding him to you with chains of longing. his worship is palpable, the kind that defies reason and embraces humiliation.
with a languid flick of your wrist, you discard the spent cigarette onto the carpet, watching with detached amusement as its ember sputters against the fibers, igniting a small, rebellious blaze. the burning carpet mirrors the slow, deliberate combustion of his dignity, yet he remains oblivious, his eyes locked on you with an almost feral intensity, breath shallow in anticipation of your next command.
lowering yourself until you are eye level with him, you savor the sight of his dilated pupils—each one a mirror reflecting his total, unyielding fixation. in that charged moment, you feel the delicious surge of power, the intoxicating awareness that he exists solely to serve you.
“you want me to stay with you, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice a mere whisper pressed against the shell of his ear. the warmth of your breath sends shivers cascading down his spine, a visceral reminder of your proximity and the inescapable pull you exert over him.
“please,” he begs again, his words dissolving into the charged silence, his entire being laid bare in that single, desperate plea.
“but that’s just selfish. what do i get out of it?” you muse, leaning in closer.
you lean in closer, your eyes glinting with cold amusement as you trace the contours of his tear-streaked face.
“show me then. beg me like the good little puppy you are,” you command, your voice a low, dangerous purr that ripples through the charged air.
a twisted warmth surges in your lower stomach, a delicious thrill at the sight of him scrambling into action at your behest, his every movement a testament to your absolute control.
his words come out in a fractured rush, laden with desperate adoration. “i-i love you so much. i n-need you,” he stammers, his tone quivering like a fragile reed in a storm, each syllable drenched in the bitter sweetness of his need.
then, his plea deepens into a raw, choked whisper, as if the very thought of your absence were a knife twisting in his heart.
“please, please, please—i need you. please…” the sound is a shattered cry, an anguished murmur that exposes the very marrow of his vulnerability, as if every drop of his soul were laid bare before you.
“my sweet boy, you really don’t want me to leave, do you?” you coo, your words soft yet laced with an undeniable, sinister authority. your thumb drifts forward to gently, almost mockingly, swipe away the tears that pool at the corners of his eyes, each caress a reminder of your power to both comfort and destroy.
you draw him closer, cradling his tear-streaked face in your hands as though it were a precious, delicate artifact. in that moment, he melts under your touch—his fragile resistance dissolving into a sea of desperate devotion
he remains exactly where you intended him to be: a crumpled figure at your feet, reduced to a pitiful relic of the man he once hoped to become.
it is the culmination of every subtle slight, every meticulously orchestrated moment of degradation. in this snapshot, the evolution of your relationship is laid bare—a toxic symphony of control and surrender, where your cold, remorseless dominance has overpowered his desperate need for affection.
the truth is undeniable: his journey to this lowly position was crafted piece by piece by your very hands. the innocent promises you once murmured have long since decayed into bitter commands and ruthless dismissals, each one a step further into the abyss that now holds him captive. in the harsh, unyielding light of this moment, the dark, twisted origins of his submission are fully revealed—a portrait of a broken soul, meticulously shaped into the perfect puppet for your relentless, toxic play.
“show me that i’m not making a mistake. that staying with you would be useful to me,” you command, your voice laced with a dark promise—a calculated malice that seeps into the very air, a slow, corrosive poison that has long eroded the fragile vestiges of his self-worth until even the faintest spark of dignity has withered away.
at those words, wonbin’s eyes widen with a desperate understanding, and he scrambles to his feet like a wounded animal yearning for reprieve. he perches on the edge of the bed, his body taut with a mix of fear and fervent anticipation, every fiber of his being poised to please you.
his gaze, trembling yet ardent, silently pleads for the validation of your power.
with languid, deliberate grace, you rise from your crouched position. each step you take is measured and potent—a display of dominance that sends ripples through the charged atmosphere.
you brush off the stray particles of dirt from the carpet as if dismissing the remnants of a past life, moving ever closer to him with an assured, predatory elegance.
the scene unfolds like that of a hunter stalking its prey in the dim, seductive glow of twilight. wonbin’s eyes, wide and glistening with both vulnerability and obsession, follow your every move. In the silence between you, the weight of your authority is palpable—a dangerous dance of obsession and control that leaves him suspended between longing and dread.
his eyes locked onto yours, gaze burning with a desperate intensity. he knew what you wanted, and he was determined to give it to you, no matter the cost.
you sat down on the bed, positioning yourself so that your legs spread wide. wonbin’s eyes were two glittering orbs of desperation, his pupils dilated with a hunger that bordered on madness.
as he crawled between your legs, his movements were jerky and uncoordinated, his limbs twitching with a frantic energy that seemed to emanate from the very marrow of his bones. his breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving like a bellows, his lungs burning with a desperate need for oxygen that seemed to fuel his every movement.
you could smell the stench of his arousal, a pungent mix of musk and sweat that hung in the air like a challenge, a primal scent that seemed to dare you to take him, to use him, to exploit his every weakness.
"sit on my face," wonbin whispered, his voice husky, his words dripping with an unrelenting need, like a supplicant pleading for a glimpse of paradise
"i want to taste you, i want you to use me.”
your smile was a slow, smoldering flame, licking at the edges of his resolve, setting fire to something he wasn't sure he wanted to name. it burned in the depths of your eyes—cruel, knowing, the kind of smile that promised ruin wrapped in silk.
"yeah?" you murmured, voice molten, thick like honey pooling at the tip of a silver spoon, slow and deliberate. "want me to put it on your face? make your face my throne?"
wonbin nodded, his gaze heavy, dark—glazed with something feverish, something almost delirious. the thought alone seemed to unravel him, winding through his veins like a slow-working poison, spurring a hunger that teetered on the edge of something sick, something desperate.
you said nothing, only lifted your hips—slow, deliberate—watching as wonbin’s eyes darkened, hunger flashing through them like lightning splitting a storm-black sky.
he looked like a man on the brink of madness, a starving wretch before a banquet, torn between reverence and ruin. his face was a study in torment, pleasure and agony tangled in the fine lines of his longing, a masterpiece of erotic suffering. his lips, parted and trembling, were soft as crushed rose petals, an unspoken plea, an invitation for you to descend—so he could worship, so you could reign.
and then, you sank down, slow and merciless, claiming him as your own. wonbin’s lashes fluttered, a shudder running through him as he surrendered beneath you, his breath hitching, uneven. he inhaled—deep, reverent—drinking in the scent of your skin, your arousal, the very essence of you. it was intoxicating, drowning him in something primal, something he would chase even as it consumed him whole.
as you sat on his face, your weight crushing him, your flesh suffocating him, wonbin’s eyes went wide with a desperate, pleading intensity, his pupils flashing with a hunger that seemed to consume him whole. his tongue darted out, licking your folds with a desperate, sloppy eagerness, his mouth sucking you in with a vacuum-like intensity that seemed to draw the very air out of the room.
“you like that, don't you?" you purred, your voice a low, husky growl. "you like being used, being treated like a dirty little slut."
he nodded, his head bobbing up and down in a frantic, eager motion as you rocked your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your pussy against his face.
his face was buried deep between your thighs, his mouth working tirelessly to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. his panting was a hot, wet whisper against your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine.
wonbin’s sucking was a gentle, insistent pressure, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive you wild.
you thighs were trembling around his face, your muscles quivering with the effort of holding back. but you couldn't hold back, not anymore.
“mmm, right there,” you moan, only spurring him to keep going.
his hair was a tangled, sweaty mess in your hands, his scalp straining against your grip as you pulled him closer and closer. his eyes were closed, face a picture of concentration and desire as his mouth worked tirelessly to bring you to the edge.
you feel the sensation building within yourself, coiling tighter and tighter. as the moments ticked by, you began to feel a creeping sense of sensitivity, a growing awareness that you were on the verge of your orgasm.
the pleasure was becoming too much, too intense, and you felt yourself being swept away on a tide of sensation.
“fuck,” a small whimper escaped your lips as wonbin’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers moulding the flesh underneath his fingertips like a sculptor shaping clay.
his hips seemed to have a mind of his own, his cock throbbing achingly in his trousers as he bucked them unconsciously, moving them in time with the rhythm of his mouth.
the air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady, intoxicating aroma that seemed to fill your lungs and fuel the fire that was burning within you.
your vision began to blur, your senses narrowing to a single, shining point of pleasure, as wonbin’s mouth and fingers worked their magic, drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm as he ate you out, his hunger insatiable, his desire for you a raging, all-consuming fire that threatened to incinerate everything in its path.
his own whimpers and moans were a constant, keening background noise, a pathetic soundtrack of need and desperation that seemed to underscore every movement, every gesture, every breath.
he was even more of a mess, a pathetic, sniveling mess, his body wracked with shudders and tremors that seemed to shake him to his very core.
as the pleasure coiled tighter, winding through your veins your body began to betray you. control slipped through your fingers, lost to the slow, aching build of ecstasy, your movements growing frantic, desperate—a raw, unrestrained hunger overtaking the careful composure you had wielded so cruelly before.
you were bucking wildly on wonbin’s face, your hips thrashing back and forth with a mindless, animalistic intensity. your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer and closer, as if you could somehow merge your bodies into one.
wonbin’s hair was a wild, tangled mess between your fingers, damp with sweat, strands clinging to his skin as you fisted them tighter, guiding him deeper into your ruin. his scalp burned beneath your grip, each tug drawing a low, shattered sound from him—eager, obedient. his eyes remained shut, lashes trembling, his face carved with devotion, concentration, a hunger so profound it bordered on worship.
“so close, so so– fuck.”
your back arched, hips thrusting forward as you came. the sound that tore from your lips was raw, unhinged—a wail ripped from the depths of you, primal and unrestrained. it keened through the air like a blade, sharp enough to cut.
your body convulsed and shuddered as you squirted all over wonbin’s face and chest, the sensation a release, a shuddering, violent thing that seemed to shake your very foundations.
he was drunk on you, drowning in the symphony of your pleasure, every sound, every tremor unraveling him thread by thread. his mind was empty, wiped clean of thought, stripped of anything that wasn’t you—your taste, your scent, the way you moved above him, ruthless in your domination.
his mouth was relentless, sucking greedily as he drew out every last drop of pleasure from you. his tongue lapped at you with a gentle, soothing rhythm, like a thirsty man drinking from a cool spring on a hot summer's day.
the sensation was almost too much to bear, but he didn't let up, even as you shifted and squirmed beneath him, your body sensitive and tender from the aftershocks of your orgasm.
instead, he only seemed to grow more ravenous, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he buried his face deeper into your pussy.
the heat of his breath and the gentle scratch of his stubble against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel his nose and lips moving against you, his mouth still working its magic as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger.
you tugged at his hair, the strands slipping through your fingers as you pulled him back, his head jerking up with a suddenness that made his eyes flash with surprise.
but even as he was pulled away, his face still strained towards you, his mouth open in a desperate bid to recapture the taste of you. his eyes were wild, his pupils dilated with desire, as he tried to chase the sensation, his lips brushing against your skin in a soft, pleading caress.
your sensitivity was at an all time high, every touch, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks of sensation through your body.
you felt like you were going to shatter, like you were going to come apart at the seams if he didn't stop and so you cried out, your voice a ragged, desperate thing, "fuck, bin, stop, it's too much."
the words tumbled out of you, a frantic, pleading bid to make him stop, to give you a moment to catch your breath, to still the storm that was raging through your body.
wonbin's gaze finally rose to meet yours, his eyes all dreamy and unfocused, his face a picture of bliss. his skin was slick with your release, glistening in the light as he stared up at you, his mouth still open, still hungry. your hands were still wrapped in his hair, and when you pulled hard, he closed his eyes for a second, his hips bucking at the touch.
for a moment, you just stared at each other, the only sound the heavy breathing, the only movement the slight tremors that still ran through your body. it was like time had stopped, and all that existed was the two of you, suspended in this moment of raw, intense connection.
"i love you," he whispered, his voice a low, husky moan. he repeated the words, a gentle, insistent whisper that seemed to wash over you like a wave.
as you gazed at wonbin, you couldn't help but be drawn in by the desire that seemed to emanate from him. his eyes were burning with a fierce hunger, and his body was tense, coiled with anticipation.
you could see the strain in his muscles, the way his skin seemed to vibrate with need. it was like he was a live wire, humming with energy, and you couldn't help but be pulled towards him, like a magnet to steel.
“sit back,” you murmured, voice thick with command, a velvet-wrapped demand that left no room for disobedience. “sit back against the headboard for me, binnie.”
his breath hitched, but his eyes never wavered, locked onto yours with a hunger so raw it felt like worship.
slow, deliberate, he obeyed—easing back against the headboard, his body sinking into the pillows, muscles taut with anticipation. but his gaze remained the same—dark, desperate, pleading—as if waiting for you to grant him mercy or ruin.
he watched with an intent gaze as you undid the strings of his joggers, your hands moving deftly to grab the front of the material and tug it down. he lifted his hips to help you, and as the fabric slid away, his dick sprang out, flushed and throbbing with a fierce, pulsing need.
the sight of it made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but reach out, your hand closing around his cock like a vice. the heat emanating from it was almost palpable, and you could feel the stiffness and ache of it, the way it seemed to throb with a life of its own.
a gentle squeeze to the tip was all it took to send wonbin into a frenzy, his body arching and twisting as he let out a silent, agonized cry. his eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain, and his voice was a low, husky moan as he whispered, "please, i need you. i need to feel you."
you smiled, a slow, cruel smile, as you began to sink onto him, using his shoulders to help you as you settled down on his length.
wonbin's eyes flew open, his gaze locking onto yours as you took him in, inch by slow, torturous inch. his moans and whimpers filled the air, a constant, keening background noise that seemed to underscore every movement, every breath.
"f-fuck," he breathed, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
you let out a shaky exhale, your fingers digging deep into wonbin’s shoulders as you finally started to move, your hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm.
the friction was almost unbearable, and you could feel the tension building inside you as you found a pace that had wonbin moaning beneath you, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine.
his hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging in so tightly it was almost painful, but you didn't care - you were too lost in the feeling of him beneath you, his body arching up to meet yours with every thrust.
as you rode him, you could feel his body trembling beneath you, his muscles straining and flexing as he struggled to contain the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. his cock was a burning, throbbing presence inside you, a fierce, pulsing heat that seemed to fill you to the very brim.
as he felt himself being enveloped by your warmth, he was caught off guard by the intensity of his own reaction. he had expected to be able to last for a while, to savor the feeling of being inside you, but instead he found himself on the brink of collapse from the very start.
the way your walls hugged him tightly, like a gentle vice, was almost too much to bear. he felt his head spinning, his vision blurring at the edges, as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control.
his thighs tensed beneath you, his muscles straining with the effort of holding back, but it was no use.
he was lost, completely and utterly lost, in the sensation of being inside you.
"ah, god," he whispered, his voice a low, husky moan. "feel so good. so tight. so-fuck..."
his words trailed off into incoherence as he felt himself being pulled under, sucked down into the vortex of pleasure and desire.
he was helpless, unable to resist the pull of your body, and he knew it.
“you like it?” you breathe, voice a slow, silken taunt as you dip closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear. he shudders beneath you, a tremor rolling through his body like a fault line splitting open, raw and helpless.
“love the way i’m making you fall apart inside me?” you murmur, savoring the way his breath stutters.
you were in control, guiding him, directing him, and he was happy to let you. he was happy to surrender, to give himself over to the sensation of being inside you.
he's desperate, his body straining to meet yours as he chases every roll of your hips, his breath catching in sharp, stuttered gasps with each thrust. his eyes flutter shut, his eyelids trembling as he loses himself in the sensation, his face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and desperation.
every movement is intense, every thrust a desperate bid for more, his body arching up into yours with a hunger that's almost palpable.
you leaned in, slow, deliberate, until your lips hovered just above his—so close he could taste your breath, could feel the heat radiating from your skin.
then, without hesitation, you let it fall—a thick, glistening thread of spit landing directly onto his parted lips, pooling there, warm and wet.
wonbin didn’t flinch. didn’t waver. his eyes, dark and unblinking, stayed locked onto yours, an intensity in them that sent a slow shiver down your spine. the string of spit still connected you, a bridge of something filthy, something unspeakably intimate.
he swallowed, his tongue darting out to gather the remnants, and fuck—he never looked away.
“good boy, my good fucking boy.”
“yours,” he gasps, the words tumbling from his lips like a prayer, wrecked and breathless. “your good boy.”
his voice trembles, thick with need, his mind lost somewhere between reverence and delirium. he basks in the praise, in the weight of your control, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the way it feels to belong—to be claimed.
a broken sob spills from his lips as you pick up the pace, his body trembling, unraveling beneath your touch. he’s crumbling, piece by piece, falling apart in your hands—and yet, you’re the one holding him together, the only thing anchoring him to the moment.
your thumb ghosts over his cheek, collecting the tear that had slipped free, as if it were a reward—a mark of your power, your control. he knows it too, knows he’s yours, helpless beneath the weight of your dominance.
overtaken, drowning in pleasure, he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breath warm, uneven, as if trying to disappear into you completely.
"please," he whispers, the word barely a breath against your skin, fragile, unraveling. he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for—only that he needs, that he’s desperate, that he’ll take whatever you give him.
his body trembles beneath yours, taut and fevered, every muscle strung tight, on the edge of something he can’t control. you can feel it—the helpless surrender, the way he’s coming undone, piece by piece, his hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to get closer, to get more of you.
wonbin’s tears, which had slowed to a trickle, began to flow once more, streaming down his face like a river of sorrow. but even in his distress, he was breathtakingly beautiful, his features etched with a deep, abiding sadness that seemed to draw you in, like a moth to a flame.
you couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of desire, a need to push him further, to break him down until all he could do was beg for mercy. the thought of it only made you grind down on him harder, pulling his head back to expose his neck as you held the skin between your teeth, leaving behind red marks of dominance.
wonbin is lost—adrift in the depths of subspace, where nothing exists but you. your presence engulfs him, consumes him, until the world outside of this moment fades into nothingness.
his eyes are glazed, unfocused, glassy with the weight of surrender. tears slip down his flushed cheeks, unchecked, unnoticed, as he bites down on his lip, struggling, failing to hold himself together.
but he doesn’t fight it—he gives in, lets the pleasure pull him under, lets you guide him deeper into the abyss of his own undoing.
“close… so, so close,” he whimpers, the words barely a breath, barely coherent. his voice is thin, trembling, strung tight with desperation.
his body shudders beneath you, overwhelmed, lost, his fingers twitching as if grasping for something—anything—to keep himself grounded. his head tilts back, eyes rolling, lids fluttering shut.
you let out a breathy chuckle, low and indulgent, a feigned cruelty meant to mask your own unraveling. even as your own ruin claws at the edges of your composure, you refuse to let it show—you won’t give him that satisfaction.
your hands find their way to his neck, fingers splaying over his flushed skin before wrapping around him, firm, possessive. you feel the rapid stutter of his pulse beneath your palm, the way his breath hitches, the way his body surrenders without hesitation.
“you want to cum, pretty boy?” you sneer, the words dripping with condescension, a cruel tease wrapped in silk.
wonbin nods frantically, desperation etched into every trembling inch of him. his whimpers spill from his lips, growing louder, more frantic, his body shaking, strung so tight he looks like he might break apart at the seams.
“use your words for me, binnie,” you murmur, fingers tightening ever so slightly around his throat, just enough to make him gasp. “like a good boy. tell me what you need.”
his breath stutters, his lips parting, but the words catch in his throat—wrecked, ruined, pleading with nothing but the raw, unfiltered need in his eyes.
“need to—please, let me cum. please,” he chokes out, his voice barely holding together, thick with desperation.
normally, you’d drag this out—make him suffer, make him beg until his voice was nothing but a ruined whisper, until the words crumbled on his tongue, incoherent and broken. you’d savor every second, watching him fall apart bit by bit, until there was nothing left but his need for you.
but god, he looks so pretty like this. wrecked. trembling. coming undone beneath you, because of you. his lips are swollen, his lashes wet with unshed tears, his entire body a plea without words. and maybe, just this once, you’ll indulge him.
“cum for me wonbin, like the good toy you are.”
wonbin obeys without hesitation, his body going taut, every muscle locking as the sensation crashes over him like a tidal wave. his breath stutters, his chest rising in sharp, uneven gasps, and then—his eyes squeeze shut, his face twisting in something almost too raw to name.
a strangled cry rips from his throat, torn from the deepest part of him, shaking with the force of his release. he shudders beneath you, utterly spent, utterly wrecked as his cum floods your pussy, body quaking as he spills himself inside you, his breath hitching, uneven and wrecked.
his forehead drops against your collarbone, a soft, shuddering exhale spilling from his lips. blindly, desperately, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, seeking warmth, seeking you. his skin is damp, flushed, his body still trembling in the aftermath.
a quiet shiver rolls through him when your fingers slip into his hair, slow and soothing, nails grazing his scalp.
he only took a second before his hips slammed up into yours, taking even you by surprise. his eyes find yours, wide and glassy, dark with something desperate—pleading without words, begging for something he doesn’t have the strength to voice. his face is twisted in a beautiful grimace, brows pinched.
his teeth sink into his swollen lip, hard enough to leave marks, hard enough to keep himself from falling apart again, tense with overstimulation.
you could feel his cum still dripping out of your cunt, the squelching noise overpowering the room as his cock throbs, pulsing with the aftershocks of his own orgasm.
“fuck, right there wonbin.”
despite the pain, despite the overstimulation, wonbin for you to cum, to feel your pleasure, to know that you were satisfied.
“please,” he held back a sob, his body shaking with the effort. “please, cum for me. i need to feel you cum.”
his finger trailed up your thighs, the gentle touch sending shivers through your body, until he found your clit. he rubs slow circles, the pressure building in your lower stomach making you moan out.
your hips began to move, grinding down on wonbin as he thrusts into you, his hips slamming into yours as he continues to rub your clit.
“cum for me, mommy. let me feel you."
now it’s your turn—your body betraying you, unraveling as pleasure coils deep in your core, burning low and slow until it’s nearly unbearable. every nerve is alight, every sensation sharp and all-consuming, pulling you under, drowning you in the relentless tide of it.
wonbin’s eyes stay locked onto yours, heavy-lidded, hazy with overstimulation, yet beneath the exhaustion, there’s something else—something raw, something unshaken.
determination.
even wrecked, trembling, barely holding himself together, he refuses to stop, refuses to let go until you’re falling with him, until he’s pulled you over the edge too, willing you to cum.
“fuck,i’m—” the word barely escapes, a high, broken whimper, strangled by the sheer force of it all.
your body betrays you, collapsing forward against him, limbs trembling, fingers grasping at nothing as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave—overwhelming, all-consuming, dragging you under until you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t do anything but feel.
wonbin catches you, his hands shaking as they grip your hips, holding you through it, helping your ride it out as he continues the slow circles around your clit.
you pull back, peeling yourself away from him, your body still humming, still thrumming with the aftershocks. wonbin doesn’t move—can’t move—his head lolling back against the headboard, spent and ruined. damp strands of hair cling to his forehead, falling into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in the violent rise and fall of his chest, in the tremors still wracking his body.
and it’s in this moment—watching him like this, raw and wrecked, trembling beneath the weight of what you’ve done to him—that you remember.
this is why you keep him close. why you let him beg, let him plead, let him stumble his way back into your life time and time again. because no matter how many times you push him away, no matter how many times you make him suffer, he always comes back.
“boys cry too, you called me & told me you never felt so low.”
he loves you so much. you’re always in the forefront of his mind, hoping you’re ok when he can’t be there to see for himself. but he was the least of your worries. what a shame.
park wonbin. toxic reader. angst. smut.
staring at his phone, disappointment was painted all over his face. knuckles growing white as he gripped the device. you had told him you’d be outside in ten minutes — so he drove over ten minutes earlier. but by now, forty had passed and there was a growing pain in his chest. heart heavy, wonbin looked at his ‘i’m here!’ message that sat on delivered. praying for it to switch to read in the blink of an eye. but it never did, at least not yet.
the streetlight that he decided to park under, purely for your convenience, started to flicker. body leaning into the leather seat of his car, the rumble of his engine filled the vechile. wonbin contemplated on leaving. even though he was originally over the moon to finally hangout with you, that excitement was slowly fading. being replaced with a sense of insecurity.
did you forget?
but he had all night to wait for you. so even if you remembered hours later, he would be quick to agree to another outing. you play with his heart, and he just waits until you’re done. there was times when he tried to tell himself that he was done being your last priority. lost in his thoughts, contemplating the what ifs. throwing his head back against the seat, his waterline started to sting. an obvious sign of the tears fighting to roll down his face. using the palms of his hands, wonbin aggressively rubbed his eyelids in an attempt to push back the tears.
but he failed.
he always failed. he always ended up crying by himself when you left him on delivered. when you forgot about the plans that you made. when you ignored him because you didn’t want to talk. it crushed his soul every single time. the tears leaving his face hot and his body shaken every time. but he knew you didn’t mean it, he knew that you were just busy. right? you were just busy because you would always contact him and apologize. promising that you wouldn’t forget next time.
a tapping on his passenger side window snapped him out of his thoughts, causing a halt to the mini pity party he was having. swiping away tears, wonbin unlocked his doors — allowing you to situate yourself into his car. there was a silence with his occasional sniffle. your eyes glued on the phone that illuminated your face. a few minutes would pass before you finally looked at him. but only for a second and no longer than a second.
“hey binnie.” the way you spoke in such a sweet tone nearly gave him whiplash. not seeing how you could so casually greet him as if you weren’t a whole hour behind schedule. greeting him without knowing that you were the reason he was so distraught a few moments ago. “sorry i took so long, i-“ but you were stopped.
“you forgot.”
his words caught you off guard. a scuff almost leaving your mouth when he cut you off, but thank god it got stuck in your throat. glancing over to the man, your eyes scanned his face. the way his cheeks were flushed, eyes puffy and bottom lip quivering, but he still managed to smile so softly at you. it almost made your heart ache. just almost. your eyes were trained on his trembling pupils — the way he looked so sad yet so happy to see you.
“you forgot, but it’s ok. i have all day for you to make time for me.” his voice cracking with every syllable that slipped past his lips. you did forget, but your pride wouldn’t let you say that. you couldn’t say that. so instead, you tripped to flip it. “what? of course i didn’t forget, of course i have time for you.” your snappy tone making his smile falter for just a split second. facing forward, his hands gripped onto the steering wheel. so what now? the air was thick, and he was hurt.
putting the vehicle into drive, wonbin tried to get ahold of his emotions as he drove. all while you shifted your attention back to the screen in your hands. connecting your phone to the cars bluetooth. boys cry too filled the empty space. as he drove around, the music was slowly drowned out by the ringing in his ears. becoming lost in his own mind while his body was on autopilot. pulling into a secluded park near the park.a place you two used to frequent, back when you cared.the music had long since been turned off as he turned off the car. leaning back into his seat, wonbins’ eyes found their way to your face.
they always did.
“did you really want to hang out with me today?” he still had that saddened expression on his face as he looked at you. picking at the skin around his fingers, waiting for an answer. waiting for anything. shifting in the seat, you managed to turn completely towards wonbin — shoving your phone into the pocket of your hoodie. “yeah, sure i lost track of time, but that doesn’t mean i didn’t wanna see you.” reaching over, you used the pads of your fingers to swipe away lingering tears on his face. he looked adorable, all worked up.
but he couldn’t seem to believe you, yet allowing your fingers to wipe and caress his face. “i hate your excuses, they hurt so much more than when you ignore me.” he tried so hard to keep a steady tone, cheeks heating up as he kept eye contact.
“do you want me to show you how much i love being around you?” before he could even answer, you were sliding yourself into his lap. reaching down to adjust his seat — making enough room for you both to sit comfortably in the small space. cupping his cheeks in both hands, your thumbs working circles on the skin that you couldn’t quite cover with your palms. leaning forward to plant small kisses on his forehead. humming into his skin when his hands found sanctuary on your thighs.
but don’t get it twisted, you were only doing this so he wouldn’t leave. so he felt loved, and wanted.
your kisses eventually found his lips, nipping at his bottom for entry — entry that he gladly gave to you. while your tongue roamed his mouth, one of your hands started its own adventure to his pants. single handedly unbuttoning the fabric. speaking against his lips, you instructed him to slip down his jeans. he was quick to follow, a whine leaving his throat when the cold air of his car hit the exposed flesh. you didn’t plan on fucking him in his car, just a quick handjob to keep him satisfied.
it’s truly a shame how pretty he was, letting all that beauty go to waste by being such a cling. that’s truly the only reason you never perused him. but you were so lucky that he loved you and adored you as much as he did — letting you do anything you wanted in exchange for the smallest sliver of your attention.
your lips attached themselves to his neck, one hand gripping onto his nape while the other slowly pumped his dick. gripping onto the sides of your hoodie, wonbin let his head fall back into the seat. but this time he wasn’t crying. strings of his moans and whines floating in the air while your hand set a painfully slow pace. gripping at his base before slowly sliding back up to his twitching tip. your thumb spreading around the precum that leaked from his slit.
he would make attempts to buck up into your enclosed fist. only to be forced back down by the weight of your body on his own. his head spinning at the damn-near torturous speed of your hand and your teeth bruising the pale skin of his neck. it was all too much as once, too much in general. broken pleas and cries for you to speed up.
so you finally did, he wanted it right?
the switch of pace had his body squirming underneath you, causing the vehicle to slightly rock side to side. thighs tightening, wonbin held onto you for dear life. if he wasn’t lightheaded before, he definitely was now. parted lips allowing for any and every sound to come from him. you could tell he was close, you knew him all too well. whispering praises just below his ear to push him to the edge. and it worked. it didn’t take much for more until he was releasing all over your hand and onto himself. repeating your name as if he would forget it later. resting your head onto his shoulder, you allowed for him to catch his breath.
but you didn’t stay long, wiping your hand onto his now cum-stained shirt. you opened the car door and stepped out, as your apartment was only a few blocks away from where you two were seated. leaving him without even a goodbye.
“it’s always me left to clean up all the mess.”
note- ok first, 3 fics in week? let me calm down before i get burnt out 😭😭 but i really wanted to write a subish wonbin and i was in the mean mood?? so my apologies for those who wanted a good end. heh. also i linked the song that this is loosely based off of, you just gotta find it! (it’s so easy to find but still)
SYNOPSIS when you ask your dominant boyfriend if you can dominate him instead
WARNINGS pet names, nipple play, no mentions of protection, creampie, biting, kissing, very messy kissing, penetration (reader receiving), teasing, implied shower sex
WORD COUNT 1221
♫ woo - hiko
a/n day eleventh of kinktober! not proofread i’ve honestly never thought of wonbin as the submissive type so this was very fun to think of and write. thank you anonie! > < like always, if you enjoyed please consider liking and reblogging! ty!
As long as you’ve been with Wonbin he has never shown any interest in being submissive, always taking charge in and outside of the bedroom. His caring and protective nature with you intrigued you wondering if he could ever be something other than dominant towards you. So, one night while the two of you laid in bed you asked him if he’d ever had thoughts of being dommed. He hums pondering on his answer before replying with a, “No, not per se?”
Cocking your head you ask if that meant the thought has maybe crossed his mind once or twice. Wonbin simply shrugs saying only once and if you had intentions with these questions. Flustered you try to hide your inflamed face trying to brush it off as innocent curiosity. He teases you, grabbing you by the chin to face him, asking you if you were wanting something. You nod to which he moves his head signaling you to continue, chewing on your bottom lip as you try and gather your thoughts.
“I’ve been really curious on how it would feel like to, you know, dom you?” You paused before saying the last part of your sentence, dropping your head to hide face first into the crook of his elbow refusing to show your face. He laughs at your embarrassment, reassuring you it wasn’t an awful question, cupping your face into his hands wanting to clarify he was more than happy to try things at least once or twice. You open your mouth to protest but Wonbin is quicker reassuring you he wanted to try, silencing you with a passionate kiss. You’re nervous at first unsure of what to do with your hands but quickly fall into a rhythm as you deepen the kiss, fingers interwoven in his hair. The tiny noises you’re able to pull from him as you bite down onto his bottom lip, tugging it back between your teeth gives you confidence, lowering Wonbin back flat against the mattress as you move to straddle him.
“You’re so handsome,” you cooed at him, one hand cupping his jaw whilst you kissed down the left side of his neck. Leaving wet open mouthed kisses periodically stopping to leave hickies against his collarbone being sure to leave them in easy to hide places; the stylists being more than grateful for that. Confidence oozed from you as you moved your knee to sit in between his legs, gently bringing it up to add pressure. Wonbin’s eyes widen seemingly unsure by the sensation but tilting his head back as you begin to slowly move it in circles, mumbling expressing how it felt too good. It doesn’t take long before he’s gripping your thigh, his hips thrusting up to meet with your knee, his head tipped back with his hair slightly stuck to his sweat covered forehead. He looked like a dream, trailing your hands up to rub your thumb pads over his nipples, pinching them in between your thumb and forefingers. Moans fall from him like honey, his eyes scrunched together as he begins to beg for you. Pride swells in your chest feeling proud of yourself for getting your boyfriend like this, leaning forward, taking his face into your hand to have him properly face you as you spoke.
“Have you been good enough?” You questioned, looking into his eyes, wet with need and bliss. Wonbin nods promising to be even better for you just needing you so badly. Seeing your usually very dominant boyfriend beg for you this desperately made it impossible to tease him for too long, giving in by pulling off his boxers. His poor dick lays heavy against his lower abdomen, the tip a dark red and leaking so much it was almost practically impossible to keep a grip on it. Your movements start off slow loving the way his body shuttered and voice cracked when he tried to speak, babbling he wanted more. You told him not to be greedy but the truth was you loved hearing how badly he needed you, removing your hand much to his dismay, kicking off your panties and going back to straddling Wonbin. You take his dick back into your hand, raising your hips, teasing the tip in between your folds. Wonbin grips the pillow underneath his head, mouth hung open as you teased him with the idea of penetrating you; but not yet giving him the satisfaction of doing so. Pulling him into a kiss you finally lower your hips allowing him to sink into you, his moans being swallowed alongside your own, giving yourself a few seconds to familiarize with his size before lifting your hips up. Putting the entirety of your weight into your thighs, you bounce against his lap, Wonbin swearing under his breath as he makes out with you messily. He’s completely out of it, his hair a mess against the pillow, his fingers gripping your forearms so tightly they’re sure to leave bruises in their wake. He feels so good in you, reminding him that he’s doing such a good job in between shared kisses and moans.
The pressure building in your stomach made you groan in between clenched teeth asking Wonbin how he was doing, being answered with whines and a shaky hand pressed against your stomach. He was close, dangerously close even, and it was evident that neither of you would last much longer. Clenching around him you lean back down to kiss his face before catching his lips, begging for him to cum, that he had done so well. Wonbin wraps his arms loosely around your shoulders, fingers interlocking on the nape of your neck, as he focuses on his orgasm. His stomach rises and falls fast, the pressure building in his stomach being released as you clenched around him, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh that connected his neck to his shoulder. Wonbin throws his head back, cumming in you as you reach your own climax, whimpering against his skin as you shakily ride him through each other’s highs. His swollen lips brush alongside yours as he breathes heavily, his mind completely blank from his orgasm. You go to pull out but Wonbin wraps his legs firmly around yours, shaking his head as he pleads for you to stay put, not ready for you to leave. Obliging you lay your head against his chest listening to his racing heartbeat as you tried to settle yours, blinking fast to keep yourself from falling asleep instantly.
Once Wonbin decided he was ready, you take your trembling legs, using them to lift up your hips, the lewd noise of Wonbin exiting you making you gasp. You can feel both your arousals leaking down your hole and thighs, Wonbin muttering you looked way too hot for him to focus, you playfully telling him to be quiet with a smack against his bare chest. He sits up, giving you an affectionate kiss before suggesting you two take a shower to clean up, smirking at him as you question if this would be a quick in and out shower.
“Is it ever a quick shower with us?” He playfully questioned, guiding you on shaky legs to the bathroom, making love with you pressed against the glass doors moaning his name for the entire dorm to hear.
