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⊹₊ ⋆ by being on my page, you confirm you're 18+ and consent to viewing dark content & agree to not view anything that will upset you. Everything is properly tagged so heed the warnings, and remember that all my works are purely fictional, and do not represent my viewpoints or endorsement of activities depicted.
want to sleeping snuggle on dad!steves lap and suck on his huge fingers and the sensation of it travelling down to his cock makes him want to see me gag on them(yk, just something subtle for the evening)😇💫
“y’know this is weird, like other people would find this weird- you know that right? m’guessing you know that and you’re just… fine with it. you are absolutely one of those chicks that are just— so pretty that they get away with anything. even this kind of thing. like right now, i actually find it adorable — y’know like, you’re the daughter i never had so it’s cute in that way. well, maybe that’s a little creepy— whatever you’re like, what — one, two years younger than me? it’s not like i’m— woah, okay.”
steve was a rambler, even when you’ve got two thick digits in your mouth and a head to his chest, suckling so lazily that your drool was fountaining down your chin and onto his sweater. he was still trying to make sense of your whole… thing, but all sense left him when you started to push down further, spitty gurgling noises forced from your little throat as you force yourself to gag around him.
“j—jesus, easy, okay? easy.” his eyes widen, automatically stroking the back of your head as a protective knee jerk reaction. “does that… do you like that?” you won’t say his voice is totally free of judgment, infact you can basically see the look on his face — the one where he’s a little horrified and a little intrigued.
“mhm.” it’s garbled so lazy and full of lust that he’s taken a back by the drag in your voice. your teeth lightly graze his knuckles and he’s shocked out of his senses in time to realise the bulge forming in his jeans.
“you… really like having something in that mouth don’t’ya kid?” he breathes, easing into it. you press yourself harder against him in the dark, shitty horror movie still playing on the static-y screen. “that’s alright. dads got ‘ya.”
you love quiet, comfy days with your boyfriends. and if there’s a collar around your neck and they’re calling you ‘puppy’? even better.
part of my february festival
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words: 2.4k
warnings: pet play, dom!yungi x sub!reader, puppy!reader, bdsm dynamics, collars, buttplugs, degradation/humiliation, face fucking, anal, mentioned punishment, dumbification etc
—
The first thing you notice is the velvet on your neck. Soft and delicate and wrapped tenderly around your throat, you know instantly what it is and what it means—at some point last night, or early this morning, someone has put your collar on.
So it’s one of those days.
You yawn softly, curling further into the cool, comfortable sheets. You’re in no rush, after all; you’re free to come down in your own time, whenever you’re ready—only then will your control be surrendered.
You hear them downstairs already; the hum of the TV, footsteps on hardwood floors, low voices still waking up. The sound of your boyfriends makes you smile and eventually you decide it’s time to get up. They—and you—have waited long enough.
Your legs wobble a little when you stand up but it doesn’t take you by surprise—after all this time together, just the feeling of the collar on your neck makes you fuzzy and malleable and needy for them them in an instant. In the floor-length mirror in front of the bed you see you’ve been stripped down from the hoodie and sweats you went to sleep in last night, to a tiny pair of white lace panties; you turn around to see the back and feel a twinge of disappointment when you realise you don’t have your tail. Maybe they’ll give it to you later, if you’re good.
The wooden floor is cold on your bare feet as you pad down the hall, heart racing. Having heard them just moments ago, you’re expecting to see them when you walk into the living room so you’re surprised to find it empty, the TV turned off and everything as you left it last night. You frown, confused. Did they leave, for some reason? Or are they toying with you? Perhaps they just want to let the anticipation build, so that you’ll be even easier to take apart later.
You’re not quite sure what to do now; you have your collar, so you know what they’re planning for you, but without them here to touch you or control you you feel a little unsure—caught in the middle, in the strange, floaty crevice between headspaces that you never like to linger in for too long.
You stand there for a few minutes, eyeing the room as if you’re expecting them to jump out of hiding at any moment and finally tell you what to do; and just as you’re about to give up and run back to your room, there’s the weight of a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down.
“Is there a reason you’re not on your knees?”
Yunho’s voice is low and firm and close and it sends a cluster of nerves through your body; but it also fills you with warmth and comfort and reassurance. They’re here, and you don’t need to know anything anymore. There’s nothing more to figure out.
Your body goes down automatically, compelled in the deepest levels of your subconscious to obey and you settle yourself on your knees, breath hitched. You hear his hum of satisfaction and the hand that was on your shoulder lands in your hair, clasping a fistful of it in his hold. The whine that leaves your throat is automatic and he tightens his grip. “Be good,” he mumbles.
The sound of sock-clad feet against the floor catches your attention and you warm at the sight of Mingi emerging from the kitchen, in the familiar slacks and sweater he likes to wear on cozy days like this. He takes a seat on the couch and bids Yunho good morning; his eyes rake over you as if you’re not even there, like you’re something insignificant. It makes your stomach twist in arousal.
Finally his gaze lands on you and his lips purse, a familiar glint flashing across his eyes. He tilts his head, leaning back into the cushions. “Hey, pretty puppy,” he drawls. “You bein’ good?”
“Yet to be determined,” Yunho says. He releases your hair and cups your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze; it’s dark and scheming and all authority and it makes you shrink into yourself a little. His lip quirks. “Ah,” he smiles. He likes to know he’s affecting you.
He pats your hair a little, letting you melt further into his touch before he pulls away. His sharp command of “Stay.” roots you to the floor as he walks off; your eyes follow him with a sad pout but your body is still and rigid. Because he told you to stay, and good puppies follow orders. Bad puppies, on the other hand… no, no. You’re a good puppy. There’s no need to think about that.
Mingi’s voice grabs your attention again and you perk up. “Where are her ears?”
Good point, you want to say. And where’s my tail, too? But you don’t and you can’t because puppies don’t talk so you whine instead. Yunho cocks a brow, amused but warning. “Her ears are in her room,” he says. “As is her tail and her leash. Why don’t you fetch them, pup?”
With your brain so empty yet somehow also so overflowing, it takes a moment for the command to register. When it does, you turn back to the hallway; you feel their eyes fixed on your swaying butt as you crawl out.
It hurts your knees to crawl like this but you know they don’t care, and you care even less; you’re a puppy, and puppies crawl even if it’s uncomfortable, because there’s no other alternative. And it’s not like you can walk, is it?
You nudge your bedroom door open with your head, glad you forgot to close it properly earlier, and pad carefully into your room. You’re grateful for the plush carpets that soothe your raw, irritated knees while you fetch your things. You’re not sure how you missed them earlier; they’re right next to the door, sitting proudly on your little toy box. For a moment you ponder how to bring it back; you’d be in worlds of trouble if you tried to carry it like a human would, but it’s a lot to fit in your mouth. But there’s no other option, you suppose, so you pick them up with your teeth and hold them snugly in your jaw. It’s precarious at best but it will have to do; a few lashes of Yunho’s belt if you drop them is much more bearable than what would happen if they saw you trying to use your hands as if you were some sort of person.
Luckily you manage to make it back to the living room in one piece, the objects still in your mouth. Mingi stands up when you enter, staring down at you as you approach them. “Sit.”
Your movements stop instantly and you settle on your haunches, staring up expectantly. He crouches in front of you, holding his hand out. “Drop,” he commands.
You open your mouth and the items fall down into his hands, wet with saliva and hints of tiny bite marks. “Covered in slobber,” Mingi says. “Dirty puppy. C’mon.”
He walks back to the couch and you scramble to follow; your hands and legs move faster than your body can keep up with, desperate not to fall behind and you stumble a little on your way. He laughs as he sits back down. “Eager, are we?”
“Mmmf.”
“Good girl. Do you need your leash yet, or are you gonna stay still while we get you all pretty?”
You nod, making a show of staying still, eager to prove your obedience; you like your collar, but you don’t need it. You’re a good dog and you can stay still when you’re ordered to without being forced. Mingi nods. “Good.”
He makes quick work of your ears, clipping the drooping black fur into your hair while his other hand firmly grips your chin and you can’t help but stare at him; after all this time they still mesmerise you as much as they did when you first met. More, actually—their ability to dumb you down and break you into pieces and still make you feel so loved and warm and cared for makes them a million times hotter in your eyes.
In fact, you’re so mesmerised by him that you don’t notice that Yunho’s slipped off of the couch onto the floor or that your panties have been ripped off until you feel a familiar coolness prodding at your naked hole. It makes you jump a little, whining in shock but he stills you with a firm hand on your hip as he pulls you up onto all fours.
“Now, now, little mutt,” he soothes. “Nice and still for me, okay? M’ just putting your tail in, sweetheart.”
You try to obey; holding yourself still as he slides the plug into your asshole despite every inch of your body begging you to push back into it, to pull it deeper into you, to fuck yourself with it. But you don’t; Yunho decides what it does, where it goes and if you get fucked or not. They decide everything.
When it’s properly settled he stands up again, pushing you back down onto your knees and goes to sit back next to Mingi. “Aren’t you pretty?” He muses. “Isn’t she beautiful, Mingi?”
“The best.” Mingi’s practically purring now, completely enamoured with his little pup and you straighten up proudly at the praise.
Yunho chuckles. “Show Mingi your tail, pretty girl.”
You obey quickly, turning to let him see the fluffy black tail peeking out from between your plush cheeks. You wriggle your butt a little, feeling the softness of your tail tickling your thighs and Mingi groans deeply. “Fuck,” he grunts. “I have to fuck her.”
“No one’s stopping you,” Yunho laughs. You unconsciously push your ass up higher at the sound of Mingi’s affected moans and Yunho notices with a chuckle. “Oh, look, she’s begging for it. Aren’t you, puppy?”
His voice is light; teasing and patronising and you whine in response. Your entire body is taut and rigid with arousal, completely immobilised until you suddenly find yourself falling forwards, colliding with a loud yelp against the floor. Only when you hear the sharp intake of Yunho’s breath do you realise what you’ve done; you’ve arched yourself, face down ass up like a bitch in heat.
“Shit, you’re fucking horny, aren’t you?” Mingi groans. “Presenting for us just like we taught you.”
“Don’t think she even knows what she’s doing,” Yunho says. “Look at her, Min. Not a single thought in that little head.”
If you weren’t so sickeningly deep in subspace you’d be crying and begging them to just fuck me already but you can’t; all you can do is whine, pushing your ass towards them.
Hands on your hips calm you slightly and you feel yourself being pulled backwards until your ass collides with Yunho’s hips. At the same time Mingi kneels down in front of you, grabbing your hair; the expression on his face is pure need and burning desire and it’s dangerous. He shoves his cock down your throat without warning or consideration; you gag on it, more in surprise than anything else and he growls. “Don’t fucking choke on me, whore,” he snaps. “I know you can take it.”
You’re half expecting to feel Yunho sliding into your pussy and you brace yourself for the still borderline unbearable stretch, but it doesn’t come. He’s holding you close against him, rubbing his crotch against your bare ass but he leaves your pussy painfully untouched and empty.
Your eyes are brimming with tears and you’re barely breathing but you don’t ever want it to stop; you feel dizzy and delirious in the best way, completely at their mercy, completely under their control. You’re beyond a puppy now—you’re practically a doll, a puppet to be used and played with without resistance. You know you’ve gone limp, held up only by Yunho’s hold on your hips and Mingi’s crushing grip on your jaw and you’re hardly registering anything that’s going on. You hear a loud, desperate sound and it takes a moment to realise that it’s you, howling around Mingi’s dick.
It makes them laugh and Yunho thrusts his crotch against your ass just to toy with you as Mingi yanks your hair back to push himself deeper down your throat. “Yeah,” he grunts. “Bark, bitch.”
You don’t know if it’s the pressure in your throat or the unbearable feeling of an empty, gaping pussy, but the emotions come quickly, overwhelming you as you desperately rub against Yunho. He watches with narrowed eyes as you grind pathetically against him and you feel his dick hardening and twitching against you but he does nothing. It’s driving you fucking crazy.
“Jesus. I’m gonna fucking cum.” Mingi’s voice is distant and blurred like you’re underwater but you feel him approaching the edge; the quickening thrusts, his tightening grip until he finally releases, letting his seed pour down your throat.
As soon as he pulls out you collapse pathetically to the floor, your upper half lying in a crumpled heap while your ass is still held firmly against Yunho. There’s a soft hand on your face and you recognise the rings as Mingi’s; you manage to open your eyes enough to see him leaning over you, stroking your cheek tenderly.
“Don’t pass out on us yet, pup. Yuyu needs to get off too, doesn’t he?”
You whine pathetically in response; half from exhaustion and half from the desperation that still suffocates you as you clench around nothing. You feel yourself dripping; gushing, really, and Yunho laughs.
“Need your hole stuffed that bad, huh?”
“Course’ she does, Yu. Puppy needs a litter of her own, doesn’t she?”
Yunho’s hands are like fire on your skin, so painfully close to where you want them and every nerve in your body is fired up and on edge. “You need to be bitched, do you?” He asks you. “Want me in that fat cunt, you little mutt?”
You manage to make a sound that vaguely sounds like ‘yes’ and he laughs, squeezing the soft flesh on your thigh until tears are pricking at your eyes again. His finger drags across your pussy, making you gasp and your entire body tenses as you wait for him to finally enter you.
But Yunho was always the more sadistic of the two.
You’d honestly forgotten about the plug sitting snugly in your ass until you feel him pulling it out; your walls cling fruitlessly to it and you’re sobbing into Mingi’s lap as you feel something else press against your hole.
“Sorry, baby,” Yunho purrs as he pushes himself inside. “I just don’t think you’re ready for a pup of your own, little thing.”
He doesn’t sound sorry at all.
—
comments/reblogs appreciated! this was slightly softer than i originally intended but i just need to be owned by them so fucking bad like jesus….. anyway love🖤🖤🖤
#synopsis. toji fushiguro is a quiet man, even when he was sent to prison for god knows what. but once he was released with no charges to his name, his first stop is to pay a familiar face a visit.
#tags. 18+ mdni, not proof read, afab! reader (uses of she/her), degradation, daddy kink, slapping, hair pulling, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, dubcon, choking, p/v penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, no protection (use protection!!), themes of a stalker and being stalked (ish)
#count. 2.6k
working as a prison guard wasn't glamorous.
the days were long and filled with tedious work: routine checks with inmates who taunted or tried to hit on you, endless piles of paperwork when there were transfers or incident reports, and a gaze that never stopped watching you.
toji fushiguro's eyes were different from the rest. he was quiet, calculating—which seemed to be far more terrifying in comparison to the rowdy inmates. you never knew what he was thinking.
toji was a headache for the months he was there. not because he got into fights or tries to waste your time. no, he was observant—his eyes always following you, even when you didn't expect it to.
routine checks especially. from the moment you were in that cell all the way to when you left, his eyes would follow you. toji would drink you in—the way the slacks hugged your curves, the way you'd talk to him sternly.
by the end of the check, well, to say toji was hard would be an understatement.
weeks turn into months and nothing happens to toji. one random day, he's just...free. no trial, no investigation, no press. that was it. he was a free man. the other officers say he knew someone who knew someone who threatened that someone.
supposedly.
so, you don't think much of it when your night shift ends that day. nor when you feel a quiet rustle behind you as you walk home. after all, you live in a busy city—there's bound to be people going in the same direction as you, right?
then you see it, a figure smoking outside the entrance of the apartment complex. he's hard to miss—large, bulky, and brooding. you chew on your lip nervously, the outline familiar despite the lack of an orange jumpsuit.
you keep your hand near your baton by your belt, and for once you're glad that you haven't changed out of your uniform.
"hey, ma," toji greets you, as if it wasn't insane for an ex-inmate to follow one of the guards home.
"you followed me home?" you ask, clipped and tight. toji briefly looks at your coat, at the way it's obvious that you're gripping your baton. he almost laughs.
"no," he says, smirking. "jus' know where you live."
you freeze, glancing at the front door. it's too late at night to ask for help, the front desk was deserted. it wouldn't be a couple of hours until your cheap complex had someone out front.
"a second offense—"
"i wasn't convicted of anything, was i, sweetheart?" he takes a drag of his cigarette, raising an amused brow. "just wanted to make sure my favorite guard got home safe, 's all."
your eye twitches and really, you should be calling the nearest precinct. you should be waving your arms frantically, calling for help at the top of your lungs. toji could overpower you any day, his body was built to tower over normal folks.
but you don't. there's a hint of curiosity, what does he want? why did he pick you? in some deranged, sick way, you aren't deterred.
the kicker? toji knows this. he's seen it, in the way that the other guards mock you, the way they exclude you, the way they don't let you join their get togethers.
they're dicks, that's for sure and you—well, you've always tossed him an extra slice of bread during meal time.
and god, does toji play you like a fiddle.
"why don't you show me in, eh?" he asks with the arrogance of a man who knows you to well. who knows how this'll play out. "i'll play nice."
you blink once, twice. toji almost thinks you'll say no before he sees your arm shift from under your coat—and you've let go of your baton. when you open the door to the complex with a resident key, he bites back a smirk.
the elevator ride up to your place is tense, not for toji. no, he's relaxed, hands stuffed in his jeans that still fit him even when it was collected months ago after he first entered the prison. it's his first day out and he went to you.
in some sick way, it makes your heart flutter.
"you know," he says, watching the floors go up on the screen. "any other guard would've had their badge out by now and a gun to my head."
it's true. you're quiet. the elevator dings, signifying you've reached your designated floor.
"like you said," you murmur as you both exit the elevator. "you weren't convicted."
you walk down the corridor, toji letting out a low whistle as you both stop in front of you door.
"seems like a nice place," he says, eyeing the line of doors down the hall. it does, better than whatever flat he had before he went to prison. you let a non-committal hum, keys jingling as you let him in.
it's stupid, you think, that you're letting him into your apartment into your own private space, into a space that—quite frankly, no one will hear you if you scream and die a painful, murderous death.
but toji choose...you, right? he went to your place, waited for you outside your complex. surely, it's not to take advantage of you, right?
"cozy," toji comments, ducking slightly to enter the door. "they pay you well?"
"you'll riot if they don't?" you snort, removing your coat. something flickers behind toji's eyes. you try not to dwell on it.
"gotta change out of my uniform," you mumble, a little weakly.
"let me watch, ma," toji smirks, the way he did when he knew you were doing his routine checks. who always made sure he was hard when you pat him down.
"i can't—"
"why not?" he tilts his head. "ain't nobody stopping us."
"we can't just—"
"so many fucking rules with ya, jesus," he grumbles, making his way to you then working to remove your belt. it happens so fast, out of nowhere, that you gasp.
"toji—" you try pushing his hand away. the belt falls onto the floor, your baton making a clang against the wood.
"that's right, ma. say my name," he growls, pushing you to a nearby wall. you protest, hitting his chest. toji plants wet kisses onto your neck, rutting into you.
"toji, stop!" you try pushing him away. you try kicking his legs but it's no use—no use in trying to move this behemoth of a man.
"i saw the way you looked at me in that goddamn prision," he groans, taking a deep breath of your scent. he pushes himself closer, forcing your legs to wrap around him. you can feel how hard he is, grinding against your slacks.
"you know what a couple of months without sex does to a man like me, ma?" he whispers, voice husky and dark. you throw your head back, feeling just how needy he was.
"mhm, used to fuckin' stroke it to the thought of you, princess. i knew you heard me from my cell."
"what, no—no—"
"don't fuckin' pretend," his hold on your waist squeezing you tightly. "i know you did it for me. knew you wanted me as bad, knew you wanted me to fuck you—"
"toji—"
"just shut up and take me."
toji carries you to the kitchen counter, ripping your uniform. the buttons fly off, hitting various parts of your kitchen. you gasp, throwing your head back. toji smirks, holding you.
the ex-inmate pins you down with one hand, both your wrists fitting snugly in his hand.
"you like this, don't you?" he taunts, kissing the valley of your breasts. "fucking love that you're being controlled, that i'm bigger than you, huh? bet you love being at my mercy."
heat claws up your neck, you look away. he isn't wrong but you'd be damned if you admit it. toji lets out a dark chuckle, pulling back as he removes your slacks with one hand. you let out a soft whimper, a whine that tells him everything he needs to know.
"fuckin' watched you everyday, y'know that?" he groans, removing you from his hold. he slots himself between your legs, head just inches away from your dripping cunt. he lets out a low growl, taking a deep breath to just smell the scent of you.
"jerked off in my cell jus' hearin' you bark orders, thinkin' about how i could fucking tell you what to do, and i bet you'd listen, hm?" toji says softly.
"fuckin' hell, can you hear how wet she is for me? 's probably tired of waiting for me, probably wanted me in you—ain't that right, ma?"
he kisses your clit from over your underwear, your back arching as you feel his relentless tongue on you. your hands in his hair, tugging him closer.
"there we go," he moans. "always knew you fuckin' wanted me. she fuckin' wants me, don't she? wanted good dick, none of those limp dicks you had—"
you blush.
"that's right—heard you talkin' shit, talkin' how wet you get but no one just hits that fucking spot—"
"toji," you whine, clamping your legs around his head as he chuckles darkly.
"i know, princess. i know, jus' let me set you straight, yeah?" toji whispers, smirking as he stands. you whimper at the loss of his tongue on your folds before he starts unbuckling his belt.
you watch as he tugs the damned piece of fabric, his long, hard, cock springing free. he revels in the soft gasp you let out. toji knows he's impressive—he's hung like a horse, a long dick with an angry red tip covered in the sheen of pre-cum.
your mouth almost waters and he can tell.
"wanna taste, ma? before i split you open," he asks, but you both know it isn't a question. you're scrambling on the kitchen counter, you try to get off only for him to turn you over.
your back is against the cool material, but your world is turned upside down as he makes sure your head is on the edge of the counter and fucks your mouth.
"that's it," he grunts, hand on your throat as he watches it bulge. "let me fuck your mouth, ma. let me use you."
toji's thrusts don't start slow, he isn't a patient man. he fucks you with a fervor no other man has matched, soft gags fill the room as you slobber all over his dick.
"bet this is all you need," he whispers, groaning as he feels your throat struggle to accommodate him. "jus' some good dick, huh?"
you gurgle a response, a dark laugh escaping his lips. he keeps thrusting, throwing his head back. it feels good. after beating his cock, a warm throat feels like heaven.
you watch him through your glassy gaze, eyes watery with want as your fingers play with your clit. you moan around his cock. toji smirks, amused.
"fuckin' needy already, ain't ya?" he asks, removing his cock from your throat. before you can complain, he sits you up and carries you down from the counter only to bend you over.
toji doesn't wait, he's waited long enough. ever since he first laid eyes on you, he restrained himself. now? oh, there's nothing stopping him now.
he pushes his hard cock past you, the tip bullying it's way into your tight cunt. he groans.
"toji, wait—"
"shut up," he grunts, pushing his way in deeper. "want ya to call me daddy."
"what—"
"just fuckin' call me daddy, you whore."
"i—i—" another thrust. "oh, daddy!"
"there we go, good girl," he moans. toji feels your gummy walls tighten around his cock when he praises you. "good job, baby, takin' daddy so well."
you whimper, gripping the counter as he continues thrusting into you. soft moans escape your lips as he pushes inch after inch until he bottoms out, only for him to pull out and thrust himself back into you.
"daddy!" you moan, earning a grunt from him as he slaps your ass. he watches the fat jiggle, letting out another low groan. he fucks you slowly for a couple of strokes, to tease or for mercy, you weren't sure.
but you couldn't dwell on it for too long, not when he starts picking up the pace. you gasp, gripping the counter as he keeps his hands on your waist.
"there we fuckin' go, there's that juicy pussy screamin' for me," he moans, watching as your back arches. god, you were a sight for sore eyes. he can hardly believe you choose to be an officer in that goddamn prison.
no, from now on, he was going to keep you. you were going to be his, going to be toji's. there was no stopping it. he wouldn't let anyone else have you.
you start moaning incoherently, cunt clenching as he plows into you over and over again. he's too big that there isn't a part of your pussy untouched by his cock.
"there we go, fuckin' you stupid," he moans, tugging on your hair. you gasp, your back to his hard chest. "you goin' me be good for me, won't you, princess? gonna let daddy own you, won't cha?"
you nod stupidly, dumbly. whatever resistance you had earlier, whatever hesitation you exhibited was gone. toji's successfully fucked you into a blissed out mess.
perfect.
toji speeds up his pace,one hand in your hair and another groping the perfect tits you'd so kindly given him access to.
"gonna cum?" he whispers, and you nod—which only earns a slap on the ass from him. "answer me. use your words, princess."
"gonna cum, daddy! gonna make a mess!"
"that's it," he groans, planting soft kisses on your neck. this is exactly how he wanted you, he tugs on your tits. "gonna fill these with milk, won't we? gotta fill these with milk."
"what—"
"don't worry about it," toji groans. "don't worry about it, princess. daddy'll get you nice and pregnant, yeah? gonna breed you and you ain't gonna have to think about anythin' anymore. jus' gonna let me take care you ya, won't ya?"
"i—i—" you try to protest, you want to. a baby? in you? from an ex-inmate? it's unthinkable. but you can't speak, not when he's fucking you so well. not when he's tugging on your tits and leaving hickies all over your neck.
"jus' don't think," he whispers, his breathing growing ragged. oh, he can already imagine it. you, round with his baby. he'll help you when your tits are heavy with milk, he'll make sure his seed takes over and over again. "jus' let daddy breed ya, baby. let me make you a mommy."
you don't say anything. you can't, not when you finally feel the coil in your stomach snap. your toes curl, body spasming—and you see a flash of white that convinces you that you've seen heaven. toji is quick to follow, thrusting himself deep into you so that he's sure that you'll get pregnant.
and if you aren't? well, you've so kindly invited him into your home that he's sure he'll have the whole night to try.
"did you hear?" satoru asks suguru. it'd been a slow night, the prison hasn't had a commotion since toji left. or they hoped so, considering that they were the ones on the night shift now.
"hm?" suguru asks, taking a sip of his coffee as he looks up at satoru.
"that weird guard quit," satoru shrugs, taking the seat beside him. they were in one of the watch towers. "apparently, got pregnant."
"huh," suguru says thoughtfully, nodding. "well, there really is someone out there for everyone. congrats to her."
a/n: this was so much fun to write guys....toji my nasty nasty man <3
ⓒ prettyboytsum 2025. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise, repost, or retranslate these works on any other platform or account.
✪ 10.7 - BDSM + water sports - Sang-min x fem!reader
Kinktober master list
Requested by anon! And @syxoki !
Summary: Sang-min browses online while his girlfriend is at work, to find new kinks on the internet he wishes to try out with reader. When gf!reader returns home, Sang-min is already waiting with various objects and ideas he wants to try on her. Despite her initial reluctance, Sang-min is able to sway her through manipulation tactics.
Sang-min sits in solitude in your shared apartment. Just him and his computer. He scrolls through porn links, trying to determine which ones appeal to him, and which ones he'll avoid. You have had sex before, of course. Numerous times throughout your 8-month relationship. However, it was nothing exciting. Not for Sang-min. Sure, he might have pulled your hair, ordered you what to do in a dominant manner but he wanted more. He wanted to humiliate you. To control you. To hurt you.
It took a while, but he was confident he had you wrapped around his finger by now. Now, you were willing to do anything he asked of you. It started small. For instance, when you got takeout, he'd encourage you get dumplings instead of sushi. Try something new, it tastes better. He encourage you to switch from your conservative light pink lipstick to a bolder plum lipstick. Because it was his favourite. You wanted to make him happy, didn't you?
Gradually, it increase until you were leaving the house, robed in the attire he instructed you wear, giving justified and well thought-out reasons for each item of clothing. You were eating what he had chosen for you, slept when he told you to go to bed, spent money on things when he granted you permission. Safe to say, you were completely under his thumb and you didn't even know it. You were unconscious of how much power and control you really gave him. You didn't think twice about it. He was responsible. Polite. Punctual. A respectable office worker. He loved you. He would never dream of hurting you.
How foolish of you to think.
Sang-min smirked as he thought of you in the position of the porn stars on his screen. Being slapped, choked, deemed worthless sluts. He imagined the tears in your fearful eyes as you'd look up at the man you loved and adored, getting off on your misery and pain. Emotionally and physically.
His eyes darted to the clock on his bedroom wall. 14:32. He still had around half an hour to wait before you returned home. He pressed his lips together, before rising from his desk to walk over to your shared closet. Opening the wooden doors, he reached up the top shelf to pull out a large, black box, latched by a tiny padlock.
Setting it down onto the rough, wooden floor, he pulls out a small key from his jeans pocket and unbolts the box. Lifting it open, various sex objects and BDSM equipment are sprawled out before his eyes. Paddles, ropes, handcuffs, and a silk, pink blindfold he bought specifically for you. He picks up a paddle and tests its weight in his hand, imagining the sound it would make against your soft skin.
He pulls out the silky blindfold and restraints, along with a leather paddle and a ball gag. Setting his selected objects to the side, he seals the box and returns it to the closet. His eyes stare at the items he has chosen. His mind creates the image of your innocent little face, flushed with embarrassment as he introduces you to these new experiences.
He returns to his computer, pulling up pornographic videos featuring bound women, focusing on the ones where the woman is crying out against a ball gag or struggling against restraints. He takes note of techniques used in the videos, his mind already formulating how he'll adapt them for you. He scrolls a little far, his interest immediately piqued by one particular video of a girl kneeling, bound and blindfolded, while her dominant partner urinates on her face and her body. The humiliation and degradation in the scene turns him on immensely, as he pictures you replacing the girls on his screen.
Finally, your shift ends at 3PM. After you clock out, you take your coat and begin your 10-minute journey back to your cozy little apartment. As you make your way home, Sang-min prepares the bedroom, setting out the restraints, blind fold, ball gag, and paddle. His eyes check the time frequently, counting down the minutes on your arrival.
You open the unlocked door and immediately smile at the sight of your boyfriend, waiting for you in the kitchen. "How was work?" He asked, rising from his stool by the kitchen island, as he approached you.
"It was okay. Slow. But not horrible." You shrugged casually, as he hummed in response, snaking his arms around your waist, his lips instantly connecting with yours. Slow, but filled with looming danger and anticipation. You giggle against his lips, your hands moving to tangle in his short, black hair.
When you pull apart, he grins down at you. "I missed you." He says, voice low and dark, his arms squeezing your body to his, causing you to whine and giggle.
"I've only been gone 6 hours." You tease, kissing his lips again. He deepens the kiss, moving one hand to squeeze your waist, as he smirks against your lips.
"Six hours too long." He growled, before pulling back, allowing you to slip off your shoes and put your tote bag down. "Come here, love." He holds out his hand for you. Curiously, you slip your hand into his. He interlaces his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand, before he starts pulling you along with him. "I have something for you in the bedroom."
"What is it?" You grin, your eyes gleaming. Is he about to propose?! Your mind instantly flashes to the first thing that spurs to your brain.
"You'll see when we get in." He smirks slightly, enjoying the innocent curiosity in your eyes. His grip on your hand is firm but gentle. Once inside your shared bedroom, he turns to face you, his expression unreadable, as he steps out of the way.
You're confused at first. Until your eyes dart from him to the bed, viewing the various sexual objects sprawled out on the bed. Your nervous eyes return to him, as he looks proudly to you with a smirk. "Uhm... Sang-min? What is all of this...?" You ask, voice timid and unsure.
"Thought we could try something different tonight." He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head as he looks to you.
"I don't know--" You hesitate, but you're cut off by Sang-min, who steps closer to you to grip your chin firmly. Your eyes dart to his, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.
"You trust me. Don't you?" He asks, his eyes darkening with something unfamiliar. You feel obliged to nod. He smirks. "Good. Have I ever hurt you?" He asks, you shake your head. "And have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?" You shake your head. His smirk deepens. "Exactly. You'll have fun. I promise."
"I'm not really into... this sort of stuff..." You swallow, lips forming into a slight pout. He rolls his eyes, his expression turning cold briefly, before slipping back into his tender façade, as his hand cradles your face.
"Come on, baby. Don't be like that. Do it for me? C'mon, I'm asking nicely. Don't be so selfish." His sweet, sensitive tone faltered with each syllable. His expression darkening at your refusal, but he takes a deep breath to control himself. "I have done everything for you. I take care of you. I have been there for you, supported you, financially, emotionally, and you can't just let me have this?" His tone darkens, as he glares at you, making you feel guilty. He sighs. "You know what?" He smiles, shaking his head. "Forget about it. We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable doing." He leans in, pressing an intimate kiss to your nose, as you stare down at the space on the floor between you.
You stand there feeling a guilty pit in your stomach. Were you being selfish? He was right, he does everything for you. Would it kill you to just try out something different?
You slowly look up, watching him walk over to the bed to put the stuff away. "W-wait..." You stammer, he halts at the sound of your voice. Bingo. He smirks, but quickly conceals it as he turns to face you. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to... try it out..." You shrug your shoulders, giving in to his desires. He grins and walks over to you to kiss your cheek.
"Atta girl." He coos, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. "Take off your clothes for me. Slowly." He demands, his voice edging darker. You inhale sharply and nod, unbuttoning your white blouse. He watches with his teeth pressing against the pink flesh of his lower lip. You wriggle and cautiously pull down your jeans, kicking them away, as you're left in your black lace bra and panties. "Keep going." He instructs, still fully clothed. You press your lips together and oblige. You reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts bounce freely as the black, lace material falls to the floor. "Good girl..." He whispers, licking his lips unconsciously at the sight of your breasts, before his black eyes meet yours. "Hold out your wrists." He order.
You reach hesitation but comply with no argument. He steps over to the bed to reach for a pink, silk ribbon. He smirks. "See? I even got a little pink one. Just for you." He walks towards you and wraps it around your wrists, binding them together gently but tightly. "There you go." He coos, kissing you cheek. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out another pink, silk ribbon, a little thicker than the one around your wrists. "This one's gonna go over your eyes." He informs you, holding up the silk for you to see. He picks up on the unease behind your eyes and smirks. "Don't worry. This will heighten your senses. Make everything feel ten times better." He caresses your cheek with his curled fingers.
You reluctantly nod, and he steps behind you to carefully wrap the silk ribbon around your eyes, securing it so it's snug but not too tight. He wants you completely dependent on him now. "Can you see anything?" He asks, placing his hands on your hips and you shudder, shaking your head. He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good." His hand comes down to slap your ass cheek, foreshadowing what's still to come. You yelp and jump at his touch as he snakes his hands from your hips to your stomach. Slowly, his hands glide over the soft skin of your belly to reach your breasts. You whimper when you feel his warm hand grope and squeeze the tender flesh. "Such pretty tits." He praises, pinching your nipples with his curled index finger and his thumb, making you gasp his name.
He suddenly grabs you by your hips roughly, walking you over to the bed. You yelp, as you fall forward from his forceful shove, stomach now pressed against the mattress and your restrained arms above your head, as you turn your face to the side. Possessively, he runs a hand over your bare bottom, kicking your legs further apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. He chuckles mockingly towards you. "Look at you. So set against trying out my kinks, and here you are. Looking like a cheap little whore, letting me use you however I want. Admit it." He commands, leaning over you to grip your jaw tightly, pulling you head upwards, his breath fanning the side of your face, as your back arches against his chest. "Go on. Tell me how much you're loving this. I can see it. You're so fucking wet for me, baby." His tone is dripping with derision as he mocks you, his fingers poking into your soft flesh tighter.
You whimper, unable to pronounce a singular word as he slides one finger inside your cunt, as if proving his point when you instantly clench around him. He laughs at you. A chilling laugh filled with mockery and condescension. You inhale through your nose, sharply, trying regain some composure. He stands up behind you, removing his finger from your aching pussy. You hear his movements behind you, and after a moment, an unexpectant leather object harshly collides with the skin of your ass, causing the flesh to ripple and the blood rush to the surface, creating a crimson red mark. You cry out and jolt from the pain, as you clench around nothing.
Sang-min sadistically smirks at your reaction. He raises the paddle again and brings out down onto your other ass cheek, watching your body thrust forward and your jaw slacken as you gasp for air. You've never experienced anything like this. A part of you was screaming stop signs in contrast to the opposite part of you, which cried for him to give you more.
You hear the distinct sound, as Sang-min pulls down his zip, followed by the rustling of clothing. You feel his hands paw at your legs, spreading them open wide, as he positions himself behind you. You hold your breath in anticipation, as you feel him rub his hard length against your wetness teasingly. Without warning, he thrusts into you suddenly, to the tilt, the head of his cock caressing your cervix, making you gasp. The pain subsides and replaces with pleasure after a moment. You suck in your breath and exhale a quivering puff of air.
You hear him groan deeply as he enters you roughly, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Fuck, yeah, baby, squeeze me. Just like that." He winces as you instantly clench around his cock. He spanks your bruised ass as he begins thrusting hard and rough from behind. "So fucking tight. So fucking wet for me, too." His breath quivers when he inhales, as he slams into you.
Your body is shaking and bouncing with each brutal thrust, you let out short-circuited moans your restrained hands flailing slightly, trying to grip onto the sheets. Sang-min leans over your body to hold down your bound wrists with one hand. He breathlessly chuckles. "Such a dirty little thing, aren't you? You're no better than a whore, letting me use you like this." He mocks you, acting as if he wasn't the one to pressure you into doing this. You don't speak, you just moan. His words make you feel dirty. You were doing this because you loved him. Because he made you think you owed this to him.
"Look at you going stupid on my cock, baby." He puffs out a sarcastic laugh, as he swells inside you. You moan in response, whimpering like a puppy as your hips kiss his with each thrust. He plunges into you mercilessly, picking up the pace. You gasp when he hits a particular sensitive spot inside you.
"S-Sang-min..." You breathe out, and he growls at the sound of his name falling from your soft lips. "I-I'm gonna- ahh!" You cry out as you feel your stomach tighten and contract, your toes curling. "Oh my God!" You squeal.
"Fuck. Do it. Cum all over my cock, you nasty girl." He barks with a groan, slapping your ass, sending you over the edge. His eyes roll back as he feels you tighten around him, thrusting faster and harder as he hits that spot inside you relentlessly, while you ride out your orgasm. "Gonna fucking cum inside you, slut." He growls, as your moans and whines spur him on. "Fuck... Fuck..." He groans loudly, his hips jerking erratically, before he buries himself deep inside you, cumming hard as your pussy squeezes him perfectly.
His forehead presses against your back as he catches his breath. Your lying, face down, panting for breath, your face is flushed, your body is glistening with sweat. Slowly, Sang-min pulls out and gently unties your wrists. Temporarily. "Hands behind your back." He commands, wiping beads of sweat from his hairline, pushing his hair back slightly. You hummed in confusion. Surely you were done? You both came, was he already fit for another orgasm? You certainly weren't so sure if you were. "Fucking do it." He snaps, and you instantaneously cross your arms behind your back for him, curious as to what he was planning. You feel him tie the pink, silky ribbon around your raw, aching wrists once again. "Good girl." He praises, kissing your wrist, before standing up and yanking you up with him by your hair. You cry out at the burning sensation that attacks your scalp. One hand grips your forearm, the other one continuing to fist your hair as he pushes you away from the bed, further into the centre of the room. "Get down on your knees." He shoves you away from him, watching you stumble slightly.
Your knees are wobbling as you sink to them, tears now staining the blindfold. "That's it. Now, no matter what... don't fucking move." He firmly orders, a grumble from deep within his chest appearing in his tone. You hesitantly nod.
Sang-min fists his semi-hard cock, his fingers wrapping around the base as he stands in front of you, knowing you have no idea what's about to occur. "Stay still..." He murmurs softly, positioning his cock directly above your face. Without warning or any indication, you feel a warm stream splash across your face. You gasp, regrettably so, as a drop enters your mouth and you instantly recognise the foul, bitter taste and scent. His urine runs down your face, your breasts, down to your thighs, showering you in a filthy, golden shower. You can't help but press your thighs together, your face flushing with shameful arousal. He notices and smirks, as he finishes. Sang-min shakes his cock and tucks himself back into his boxers, zipping up his trousers.
"Such a good girl for me." He coos, running a hand tenderly through your hair. "That wasn't so bad , was it?" He asks, reaching around the back of your head to untie the blindfold and removing it from your eyes, to reveal your mascara running down your face, your eyes red and glossy with shame. He pouts in a deriding manner. "Don't cry, baby. You know you liked it. Wasn't it fun?" He laughs, wiping a tear from your piss-covered face. "You're such a mess." He comments, tutting his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. "God, you'd really let me do anything to you, huh? That's fucked up. You're disgusting, you know that, right?" His cruel, vicious words contrast with the way he gently pats your hair down, and his soft expression towards you. You whimper and nod, hanging your head in shame.
You both knew this was only the beginning of your newfound relationship.
☆ Namgyu has tried to shoot his shot with you over the years, never succeeding. In an off-handed comment Thanos mentions he hooked up with you once & Namgyu gets angry and jealous. It irks him, you make him feel like he’s not good enough — and he hates that.
☆ warnings: SMUT 18+, heavy dubcon/noncon, the games didn’t happen, pervert Namgyu, Namgyu’s self esteem issues, misogyny, objectification, humiliation, degradation, slut-shaming, fingering, spit, rough sex, creampie
words: 2.6k
Namgyu has always had the hots for you, ever since he met you to be honest. Sappy words like “crush” or “in love with” didn’t fit the way he felt about you, no. He liked your round, fat ass. He ogled your perky tits and looked down your shirt unashamedly every chance he got. He’d like to take you back to his apartment for a night and fuck you silly like the sluts from the club. Whenever Semi caught him staring at you like a pervert she would chastise him — just like how he was doing right now.
All of you were out doing some dumb group activity, he didn’t bother to read the messages in the groupchat or contribute any opinions on where to go. Well, after today he’s learned his fucking lesson because everyone decided to go to the mall of all places. Semi and you had numerous bags in hand yapping cheerily as him, Thanos, Gyeong-su, and Minsu tagged right behind. Namgyu was watching your ass in your tight jeans as you walked, tuning out whatever drug-induced ramblings Thanos was going on about.
What color panties did you wear today?, he wondered lazily. He knew he was perverted, and he didn’t give a flying fuck. He’s given his fair share of tries making a move over the years, but was always given the cold treatment from you. Flirtatious remarks were met with silence, any sort of physical contact with him was met with your face heating up and you finding a way to squirm away.
Thanos would probably tell him something like “You just have bad game, bro”, but Namgyu has picked up countless girls in the club, easy-peasy. Why didn’t it work with you? You make him feel like there’s something wrong with him, and he hates that.
Namgyu perked back up from his inner thoughts when the purple-haired rapper mentioned your name. Both Thanos and Gyeong-su had followed his gaze and were looking at your butt now too, smirks plastered on both of their faces.
“Yeah, I’ve tapped that. Last Halloween actually.” Thanos grinned from ear to ear as he bragged openly, but kept just quiet enough so that you and Semi couldn’t hear.
Namgyu almost tripped mid-stride and face-planted onto the mall floor. What? Since when had you hooked up with Thanos? A hot sting of jealousy and anger ripped through him. Before he could get a word out questioning Thanos’ story, Gyeong-su chimed in.
“Me too actually.” Namgyu’s head swiveled to stare at him incredulously as the two shared a down-low fist bump. Namgyu’s jaw went slack in disbelief. Gyeong-su too?
What the fuck did Thanos and Gyeong-su have that he didn’t? His lips pressed into a straight line as he looked back up at you, giggling to Semi. So this whole time you had been sleeping with other guys in the group? He wondered angrily how many times you’ve done it. What a whore you are, sleeping around the group and fucking practically everyone, he thought. Except him.
His anger stewed hotter as he chewed the inside of his cheek, until Thanos bumped his arm playfully and raised an eyebrow at him, chuckling. “Damn bro, if looks could kill…”
Namgyu sucked his teeth, his eyes sharp and still trained on you. He ignored Thanos as he felt a weird sort of hatred quickly growing towards you. What? Am I not good enough for you? Your carefree smile irked him. All this time you’ve been dodging his advances with innocent ease. Now he knew what you truly were — a cheap whore.
“What are we doing after this?” Namgyu said flatly.
Thanos took a hit of his vape and paused for a beat to blow the fruit punch vapor before responding. “Didn’t ya read the groupchat? That new horror flick is on Netflix now, gonna watch it at her place.” He nodded toward you lazily. Perfect.
~
Namgyu had picked at his nails for most of the movie. In his fidgety state he had picked them all the way down to the skin. Thankfully he had brought a pack of smokes, planning to step out onto your balcony for one when everyone was wrapping up and heading back to their own places. Nothing too heavy to put into his system, but just enough to take the edge off.
As he finished his cig he flicked it to the ground, crushing it out with his shoe. When he stepped back into the living room everyone had gone, leaving the dull blue glow of the tv screen paused on the end credits.
He heard your bathroom sink run for a second, and your bare feet padding around in the hallway getting ready for bed.
You were in your bedroom, finishing up your skincare routine when you saw him in the mirror. His all-black clad figure startled you, making you jump and whip around to look at him.
Namgyu stood in your doorway, reeking of smoke, face expressionless as he stared at you. You laughed lightly, clutching your hand over your heart.
“God! You scared me Namgyu. Thought everyone left already.”
He didn’t say anything. You drew out the quiet laugh awkwardly, trailing off as you waited for him to explain why he was still in your house. Perhaps he had forgotten something.
“Um, do you need someth—“
“What the fuck is your problem?”
You blinked in shock as he cut you off, your mouth remaining parted mid-sentence. Namgyu was looking down his nose at you, brows raised like he was chastising one of the drunk patrons at the club. It felt demeaning.
You shrink a little, confused.
“What?”
He scoffed humorlessly at you. Stepping toward you and looking around your room judgingly. Suddenly you felt very exposed in your revealing pajamas and cutesy pink room.
His tongue darted between his lips to wet them. “You probably got alotta people fooled with all this pink shit, huh? Overcompensating for the fact that you’re a slutty pig?”
His words were so venomous, and seemingly coming out of nowhere. Why was he cornering you like this? You knew he was a mean guy and you’ve heard the horrible things he says about people, but it was never directed toward you. Especially not spat in your face like this.
His sharp eyes bore into yours as he continued his cruel barrage. Tears pricked at your inner corners and you quickly blinked them away.
“What the fuck is so wrong about me, hm?” His voice was rising louder as he got closer and angrier, and you more scared and confused.
“You think you’re better than me, that’s it?” He was practically yelling at you now as your back hit your vanity mirror. You shook your head frantically, desperately trying to make sense of what he was saying.
He grabbed your arm, grip too tight as he yanked you to directly face him. “Am I not good enough for you?” He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a high mocking voice, his hot breath hitting your face. You were squirming now, trying to pull your arm from his grip and looking up at him with glassy eyes.
“Too good for a junkie like me to even touch you? Just fucking tell me you think you’re too perfect for me.”
“No! No, I d-don’t think that.” You couldn’t maintain eye contact with him, your face heating up at the close proximity. He shoved you toward your bed roughly, pushing your shoulders so you fell back onto your perfectly made sheets.
Your eyes were wide and your head was reeling trying to catch up with what was going on. “I-I don’t understand, Namgyu, please…”
“Shut the fuck up. Drop the fucking act, I know you sleep around with everyone in the group.” The bed sank slightly as he leaned down over your body with one hand beside your waist.
“I figured it’s finally my turn, yeah?”
With that he yanked up your tank top, exposing your tummy and bare breasts with a bounce into the air. You yelped out, hands flailing to pull the fabric back down to cover yourself.
“Fucking knew it. No bra, wanting every man to look at your nipples during the movie. Whore.” He palmed a breast roughly, making you cry out in pain and embarrassment. It’s like he had never handled boobs before.
He fondled the soft flesh like he was punishing you, and for what— you weren’t entirely sure. He delivered a smack to the one he hadn’t touched, making you yelp again.
“Namgyu, please! I haven’t slept with anyone… I’m sorry for whatever I did.” Hot, desperate tears pooled in your eyes as you looked up at him pleadingly.
“I said shut up.”
He fisted your hair, pushing your face to the side and into the mattress. He manhandled the rest of your body to follow, turning you tummy-side down onto your bed. A sharp slap met your ass as soon as it was in view, your moan muffled by your blankets. You could even feel which fingers he wore his rings on today.
A harsh ripping sound met your uncovered ear, and you felt Namgyu slide your tattered shorts off your thighs. He gripped an ass cheek in each hand, squeezing and pulling them apart, watching intently how the supple flesh molds between his fingers.
“I don’t even know why any guy would fuck you. Your cunt is probably loose as fuck.” He slapped your ass again, making you jerk forward as tears dampened the fabric beneath your face. The ache of humiliation was burning hot, your face was flushed as your breath quickened.
“And yet you still think you’re too fucking good for me. Let’s see if you feel fucking superior after this.”
He pushed your panties to the side, cold fingers squelching around your folds, playing with your arousal. You were mortified at how wet you were right now, shame filled you at the sloppy noises filling your bedroom. A scoff of disbelief left Namgyu as he watched clear the gooey strings connecting his fingers.
Suddenly he pushed three thick ringed fingers into your pussy, making your back arch at the tight stretch. He pumped a couple times before adding another, nearly fisting you. Your eyes rolled up into your head as you choked on a breath, your ass trying to move away from the thick intrusion on instinct. He pinned one of your shoulders to the bed with his free hand.
“Fucking take it,” he seethed. He fucked his fingers into you a few more times before yanking them out, leaving your hole clenching and empty. You squirmed as he leaned over you, the smell of yourself filling your senses as he reached up and smeared your juices all over your face.
“Taste yourself, whore.”
He squished your cheeks together cruelly before he shoved his fingers between your parted lips. The savory sweet taste of yourself met your tongue, and for reasons you can’t explain, you swirled your tongue around his fingers and sucked submissively.
He sneered at the action, finding you pathetic. With a wet pop, his fingers slipped out of your mouth.
“You always this obedient for all the other men you fuck?”
If you could form words, you wouldn’t even know how to respond. All you knew in your confused and humiliated haze was that Namgyu was mad. And taking it out on you.
Your eyes shoot open and your head lifts off the bed in a panic when you feel his slippery cockhead rub against your entrance. He immediately shoves your front half back down with a grunt, returning to his work of coating his dick in your syrupy arousal. A feeble whimper leaves your mouth, only spurring him on even more.
He slams his entire length into you without warning, you could feel every vein along his shaft as he buried himself balls deep. A muffled scream ripped through you as he growled and doubled over you at the overwhelming sensation of your tight cunt.
His silver chain brushed your back as he settled into place, wrapping his lean arms around you and trapping you between the bed and his body. Namgyu wasted no time in defiling you, his thrusts started fast and deep, his hips hardly leaving your ass as he grinded into you hotly.
“Shit. Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” His veiny hand slid up to your throat, wrapping around it with a firm grip and tilting your head back against his shoulder.
“You don’t get to fucking ignore me this time.” He pursed his lips and spit messily into your open mouth, the warm glob quickly being swallowed by you. Some of it rolled wetly down your chin. You couldn’t stop the obnoxious mewl that came out of you; you could hardly believe the sound of your own voice, it was so lewd.
“‘Gyu! ‘Gyu! Oh my god!” His forearms were the only thing keeping your head upright right now. Your nails dig into them, leaving little crescent shaped marks. Your cute little body could hardly handle what Namgyu was forcing into you right now, you felt like you were gonna explode at any second.
He mimicked the broken way you moaned his name right back into your ear meanly.
“‘Gyu! Gyu!’ Fucking skank. How’s this, huh? You still gonna spread your legs for Thanos after this?” His voice was right against your ear, hot, snarled, directly funneled into your fucked-out brain.
“What about Gyeong-su? Huh?” A high-pitched moan ripped out of you. You had no clue why he thought you had slept with your other friends, but the furious way he was railing you made you want to submit and apologize to him over and over.
“M’sorry! M’sosorry!” You moaned. Namgyu’s hips pistoned faster, his balls slapping against you noisily.
“Let’s see you try to sleep around after I blow your pussy out. No other fucker will ever wanna fuck you now.” He growled with pure venom.
Namgyu circled his thumb around the tight ring of muscle of your ass, jamming it in and sending you spiraling. All the muscles in your body tensed up at once, clenching around his intruding thumb, and you began shaking at the heat in your core finally exploding.
Your eyes rolled back as you were thrown head first into a doozy of an orgasm. Namgyu felt all of you tense up and squeeze, your cunt pulsating so hard on his cock that he nutted prematurely, spilling buckets of cum into you as he moaned loudly in surprise.
“Ahh, shiiiit.”
His hips stuttered to a stop, instincts taking over as he pushed his cock in as deep as it would go and stilled. The feeling of his cum flooding you prolonged your orgasm, your body shaking with the intensity of it and cute little gasps leaving you. It was in so deep that you could feel some of it spill out around him, seeping down your thighs.
The two of you were panting messes, trying to catch your breath as your orgasms lingered. Namgyu released your neck, your head falling to the bed with a soft thud. He grunted above you as he pushed himself up, assessing the aftermath. Strings of his sweaty raven hair stuck to his forehead as he slowly pulled out, his white cum instantly oozing out of you.
He leaned right over your ass crack and spit, his saliva mixing with the sticky mess. When you felt it you stirred slightly on the bed with a soft groan. The mattress lifted as he got off, followed by the clinking of his belt meeting your ears.
You were exhausted, filled, reeling from what just happened. You were drifting into sleep but just conscious enough to see him open your top drawer and rifle through it. He fisted a lacy white pair of panties and shoved them into his back pocket.
He left without a word as you lay face down in your bed, spent and leaking him all over your once neat blankets.
—- extremely suggestive, not explicit smut / drug use / pill swapping / he spits into your mouth a couple of times / spit play / mean!dom!namgyu / filthy dirty talk / degradation / praise
—- a/n: this shit is filthy and shamelessly self-indulgent. i need this man to spit into my mouth. now.
thinking about how namgyu would pull you into taking the pills with him. dangling that cross necklace in front of your face and looking at you with that light pout, drawling on about how boring you are. “why won’t you just take one fuckin’ pill with me? ‘d look so pretty with huge blown pupils. so pretty f’me…” squirming just the tiniest bit as you sit together on the cot because you wanna be pretty for him. you wanna be good for him. his one large hand reaching for your leg, the other playing with the cross — silver bands on his long fingers clinking against the metal and it makes you want to know what else he could do with them.
the grin that cracks out on his lips once you finally agree makes you weak in the knees. you would probably keel over if you both weren’t huddled against the far end of the bed, near the wall. not completely out of sight from prying eyes but still… good enough for you. “so, do i jus’—“ “ah-ah…lemme give it to you. gotta make sure you swallow it properly, no?”
he flicked the pill up with his thumb, caught it on his tongue without breaking eye contact. held it there. lips parted, teeth gleaming behind it, his tongue curling just enough to show it—wet and resting pretty like an invitation you hadn’t earned yet.
you hadn’t even blinked before his thumb was hooking under your lip, tilting your head back just enough to make your neck stretch oh, so pretty for him. the pill glinted on his tongue, perched right in the middle like an offering laced in vice—white, powdery, and waiting. he smirked around it, that grin all cracked sin and cruel affection, then curled his tongue slowly to show you how wet it was already, how warm it would be inside your pretty little mouth.
“watch real fuckin’ close,” he murmured, voice molasses-thick and dirty. “you wanna take my pills, you take ’em my way.”
he leaned in—close enough so that you could taste his breathe; sweet and dangerous — and then, with a flick of his head, he spit the pill onto your tongue. no gentle tilt of the chin, no warning. just a hot, slick shot of saliva mixed with crushed-down powder, the pill hitting your tongue with a wet little tap. it rolled against the roof of your mouth and stuck there, and before you could even flinch or react—
he grabbed the back of your head and smashed your mouths together. tongue-first. all spit and teeth and wet, vulgar heat. he needed to taste you so bad. needed to feel how corruption tasted on your tongue.
the kiss was filthy—messy as fuck—tongue shoving past your lips to smear every trace of him deeper inside. the pill split open between you two, bitter and raw, crushed further by the force of namgyu’s tongue as he licked into you like he was hungry for more. as if he wanted to brand his taste into your mouth — so that you would never swallow again without thinking about him. your moan cracked sharp in your throat, swallowed and muffled by his kiss; jaw forced open wider as his spit dripped down the corners of your mouth.
he didn’t let up.
his tongue was deep, obscene, fucking into your mouth like it belonged there. when you tried to pull away, just a second to breathe, he spit again—a thick strand that strung from his mouth to yours, caught your tongue and your swollen, plush lips. “swallow it,” he snarled into you, still panting against your lips. “better not waste anythin’ I give to you. yeah? yeah? such a filthy girl.”
you gasped, throat tightening, the bitter chemical taste melting with the heat of him. and then you did exactly what he said; swallowed. obedient and pretty. like he wanted you to be. namgyu watched you do it, blown pupils never leaving yours. he gripped your cheeks between ringed fingers and yanked your face up, forcing that pretty mouth of yours open again. “lemme fuckin’ see.”
an involuntary moan escaped from your throat before you gave into him. you always would. tongue lolled out. empty. slick. still shining. just like your eyes, lashes wet and glistening as they batted up at him.
his grin cracked wider—feral now, eyes blown.
“atta girl. knew you’d take it like that.” he spat again, just because. right on your tongue. “keep that in your mouth. i want you to remember how i taste when you’re floatin’.” you moaned again, desperate and breathless, mouth still open, lips red and glistening.
he kissed you one more time—slower now, but still filthy, tongue dragging across you teeth like he meant to carve his name there, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and groaning when you did the same. and when he finally pulled away, spit still stringing between your lips and connecting you two like an unholy band, he panted: “next time i’ll come in your fuckin’ mouth and call it medicine for that pretty throat. you’d take that too, huh? i know you will, my pretty filthy girl.”
Thinking about being Namgyu’s obedient little stress reliever after he had a stressful night at work
Thinking about choking on Namgyu’s cock, the second he comes through your shitty apartment door. Your spit and drool are everywhere, so goddamn messy and spitty and he’s holding your head still and fucking it like a fleshlight. He’s thrusting mercilessly, doesn’t give a single shit when you choke and gag on his swollen cockhead hitting the back of your throat.
He’ll yank it out of your mouth abruptly to see you suck in air, gasping for oxygen. When he’s seen enough of that he’ll shove it right back in, not caring if your teeth graze him. He could do this all night, edging himself to your teary fucked out face. Your mascara started running down your cheeks an hour ago, you just look so perfect like that. He thinks it’s your best look, to be honest. The more you cry, the harder he gets.
He promises he’ll eat you out afterwards, make you feel all nice and soothe the burning ache in that sweet tight cunt of yours, you’re practically humping the carpet like a dog from how horny you were. He’s lying, of course. He’s doing all of this solely for his own pleasure, plus it’s the only time you ever shut the fuck up. No more of your damn whining.
The only sounds coming out of you are the wet, gawking, squelches as he abuses your throat. His ringed ringers thread through your hair and shake your head side-to-side, sneering down at you in your humiliated state. He simultaneously thinks you’re the most pathetic disgusting person on the planet, and the most pretty and stunning.
He spits on your face, adding to the sea of saliva already coating the bottom half of your face. You wince and moan as it hits your cheek warmly. You couldn’t wait for the taste of his cum, you’ve been waiting forever for it. And he still keeps you waiting, fucking your throat for a minute and nearly asphyxiating you, taking a 10 second break, and then doing it again.
You’ll get a taste eventually. When he thinks you deserve it.
Summary: You’re convinced someone is touching you in your sleep and worry that your roommates might be subjected to it next.
You couldn’t have been more wrong.
Forewarning: I wanted to experiment with writing more darker fics and this is what came about. I apologize in advance.
🛑 DEAD DOVE NOT EAT! DARK AND HEAVY THEMES AHEAD
TW: This story contains rape. Yunho and Wooyoung have been doing things to the reader in their sleep without their consent or knowledge which is rape.
Yunho & Wooyoung are not good people in this.
MORE WARNINGS : Non-con somnophilia, Non-con drugging, medical play, daddy kink, coercion, Yunho is mean, unprotected sex, mild pet play, mild breeding kink, double penetration, fear of pregnancy, reader battles with themselves for liking what’s being done to them.
Because of what this story contains I will not be using tags with just the members names. I will use tags that indicate that this will be a dark fic which will include their names but that’s all.
If you guys feel like I am missing any other warnings please let me know and I’ll update it.
This story is not a reflection of how I view Yunho or Wooyoung to be in real life. I want to make that very clear.
You have been warned about the content ahead. I am not responsible if you choose to read further after being properly informed of what this story contains. If you are uncomfortable, please click away now and block me if this is not to your taste.
I think someone is touching me in my sleep.
Your cursor blinks at you, waiting impatiently for you to click on the text body and give an explanation as to why, but you can’t stop going over the title. I think someone is touching me in my sleep. Is it too forward? Doesn’t it explain itself on its own?
No, it doesn’t. you have to.. give more details. Have to explain to dozens of strangers on the internet that, even when you don’t touch yourself, you’ve been waking up to your pussy rubbed red and raw, and thighs left sticky with your release.
You had assumed wet dreams, at first. They were rare, for you, but maybe you were just not recognizing them. Maybe you were grabbing or scratching yourself in your sleep in response to them, and then forgetting it had happened when you awoke. It would’ve been an understandable answer, and you thought it would stop if you cut your nails short and started wearing shorts to sleep.
It did. For maybe a day.
You had stumbled out of bed the next morning falling flat on your face. Both of your holes feeling used , this time, aching and stretched to their limits, and when you reached back to check, cheeks aflame— you were loose. Like some common whore, too fucked out to remember who touched you last.
You’re not a fan of casual hookups. You haven’t had a boyfriend in ages either. You haven’t been intimately touched by another person in you don’t know how long. You cross out the possibility of it being some horrible, selectively-painful STI acting up, but when the pain continues without explanation, you go to get tested anyways.
There’s nothing. You’re clean. The doctor remarks gently that you need to take better care of your genitalia, if you’re going to partake in rough sex, and you don’t have the gall to tell her that you haven’t been.
So, you think someone is touching you while you sleep.
You just don’t know who.
Your friends don’t stay over often enough to be the ones fucking with you. Seonghwa and Misty are too preoccupied with each other, anyways, to be doing something as sick as this to you. They aren’t the type.
You tick off your roommates fairly quickly, too. Yunho is beyond respectful, and Wooyoung is too sweet, too shy; they love you, take care of you like it comes naturally. They wouldn’t hurt you.
Hongjoong and Mingi rarely even spend the night in the same house as you. You don’t think they’d go through the trouble of.. Coming home to play with you for a little bit and then leaving again. Even if they weren’t both extraordinarily kind.
It’s a long going investigation, and you’ve hit another dead end. The only other person with the keys to the house and, furthermore, to your room is the landlord, and she’s an ancient woman barely clinging to life as it is. Yunho is the one that takes their rent to her every month, because the last time she tried to climb the stairs to collect it from them, she fell and broke her hip.
She wouldn’t be quick enough to hurt you like this. Wouldn’t have the strength to stretch and take from you, even if she somehow found a way up the stairs and into the house without falling and hurting herself.
None of your classmates know where you live. None of your professors, unless they’ve gone through the trouble of looking it up. You've checked time and time again around the house and in the backseat of your car for signs of a squatter, of some unknown man maybe living alongside you, but the thought of actually finding one, of confirming what had been done to you— it makes you feel ill.
You convince Yunho and Wooyoung to look under the house for you, once. Wooyoung gets inside the walls. It’s funny to watch, as they communicate from beneath the floorboards and through the plaster, but they find nothing, and you are left empty-handed and sick to your stomach.
They don’t know what’s going on. You can’t tell them. That’s what you think, when you upload the post, begging for help, for someone to point out something that you possibly missed, but the first comment instructs you to do just that.
You need to tell your roommates, It says, and your stomach turns uncomfortably. If it really is some creep living with you guys, they could be in danger.
You know they’re right. Knows that, if someone is bold enough to break in and.. Touch you, they’re probably bold enough to steal, or harm, or kill. You don’t want that for your roommates; they’re good people, good friends, and they’ve always taken care of you, always stood up for you on the off chance that you encountered someone brave enough to insult you.
You think of Wooyoung, sweet Wooyoung, falling prey to a faceless man, forced to be silent, helplessly begging for someone to come save him as he’s touched, fondled, raped . You feel dizzy, head spinning as you stumble towards Yunho’s room and knocking on the door, arms crossed over your rolling belly.
The door clicks open, and you feel relief instantly at seeing his face. Yunho is warm, all friendly smiles and casual grace when he leans against the doorframe, eyes darting down to look at your arms holding your stomach. “Hey, you need some Tylenol or something?”
You blink dumbly for a moment, lost, and then shake your head, releasing your stomach . “No, It’s–It’s not that. Can I come in?”
Yunho opens the door wider without a word, letting you duck under his arm and shutting it behind him. You go straight for the bed, ignoring the swell of affection that hits you when you recall sleeping here on your worst days, snuggling up to Yunho and letting him talk until the pain went away, your first friend in this whole godforsaken city.
You collapse into it. Yunho’s huff of laughter is soft, when he sits down on the bed beside you, patting your back reassuringly. He knows you like the back of his hand. Knows you’ll talk when you’re ready, that you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t going to eventually.
The majority of the wait is just you trying to find some way to word it without sparking any uncalled for panic. “I think someone is getting into the house.”
Yunho rubs your back, but he tenses up, turning his head to look at you. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” Even now, your hips ache and burn when you roll onto your side, Yunho’s hand shifting to pet your side instead. You sigh, covering your face. “You’ve gotta listen to me, okay? It’s gonna sound nuts.”
Yunho frowns at you, but bites down whatever smart remark that obviously wants to come out. He nods once, squeezing your waist in tandem, and you ignore the pleasant warmth that it spreads. Your breath shudders out of you as if squeezed out by some great weight.
“I think.. Someone is touching me in my sleep. And I know it’s not my friends, and I know it’s not you or Wooyoung, so..” Tears prick at your eyes, because you feel crazy, feel stupid and dramatic, but God , it feels good to get it out. “I-I don’t know what to do , Yunho. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m always left aching, and–and I’m too embarrassed to go to a doctor, ‘cause I’m sure they could get DNA or whatever, but.. But what if it’s not really.. That ? What if I’m just, I dunno, hurting myself? I’d look insane.”
Yunho is quiet for a long moment, still rubbing your side down to your hip, soothing. You bury your face in the duvet and wait, trying to calm down, ignoring the insistent throbbing of your hole.
“I think,” Yunho says at length, still petting reassuringly. “You need to see a doctor. Whatever it is, it could cause permanent damage. If it is.. A person, you need to make sure you haven’t been given anything.”
“No STIs.” Your voice is muffled against the mattress. “Already got tested. Just hurts a lot. I don’t know what to do.”
Yunho’s hand stills. You look up at him.
His expression is oozing concern, brows furrowed and lips pursed, as he meets your eyes with a soft sigh. “If you’re really too embarrassed to go to a doctor, I can..”
It wouldn’t be the first time Yunho had helped you with something like this. He had helped all of you, at some point; it was handy, having a doctor in training living in the same house. Yunho was good at being professional, when he needed to be.
You mull it over for a long minute, and then give him a small nod of consent before rolling onto your back. Yunho’s hand falls away and you hook your thumbs in your shorts, shimmying out of them and letting your legs fall flat against the bed.
Yunho hisses sympathetically at the sight of your red skin, standing and going around to collect gloves and his little first-aid kit. “Jesus, Y/N.”
“Yeah.” your hole throbs, stretched uncomfortably no matter which way you shift your legs, and when Yunho returns and kneels before you, you scoot to the edge and spread them obediently with a little whimper.
“I know.” Yunho’s voice is full of pity. His gloved hand connects with your hole and you jump, muttering an apology as Yunho smears something into the skin. “This should help with the pain. You’re really torn up.”
“Feels like it.” Yunho’s fingers circle your hole to spread the stuff and you try to ignore the heat coiling in your belly, staring at the ceiling. It doesn’t help that you’ve been too damn sensitive to even get yourself off, lately. “Sorry if I’m, uh..”
“There was this older guy once. First prostate exam I ever gave.” There’s something soothing to Yunho’s voice, something so casual and calm, that has you shutting your eyes to sag against the bed, relaxing. Whatever Yunho put on you works quickly, numbing everything down to a dull ache, and it’s the first sense of relief that you’ve had in days. “He came all over the fucking bed. I had to clean it up. It was so gross. So, like, don’t worry about it. Nobody can top that.”
You laugh, eyes half-lidded when he warns that he’s going to put a finger in. You inhale sharply, both at the sting and at the feeling of another person touching you, and go to turn your head into the comforter again, breathing deeply.
Yunho stills with his finger still halfway in. “Too much?”
“‘S okay.” God, you sound wrecked. Yunho already deals with enough weirdos on a daily basis, he doesn’t need this. You clear your throat, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking down at him. “Just sensitive. Do what you need, don’t worry about me.”
“It’s kind of bad ethics to not worry about your patient.” Yunho slides the rest of his finger in and wiggles it experimentally and you trap a sudden gasp in your throat, tipping your head back. Yunho gently pushes your leg out of the way as it tries to close around his hand and you find yourself mortified. “You sure you’re okay?”
Yunho’s thumb brushes over your engorged clit as he tries to put your leg back into place, and you spasm. Your voice comes out reedy. “Fine. How’s it look?”
Yunho is quiet. He spreads you open with two fingers, crooking his fingers every now and then, seemingly searching. You press your hands into your face and try to ignore every shock of pleasure when Yunho brushes too close to your clit. Your legs jolt and nearly take him out, once.
“You’ve definitely got some tearing.” Yunho’s fingers finally slip out, and you purse your lips together, because you don’t want to stop, you want Yunho to touch you, to finger you, to fuck you. Your entire core pulses with heat and you’re positive Yunho can see you getting wet, can feel it, but he’s polite enough not to mention it. “And you’ve been penetrated recently. This.. isn’t good. I think you should stay somewhere else, for a few days. Wooyoung and I will look around the house again. Maybe we missed something.”
Your stomach rolls at the thought of being touched while vulnerable. Touched by some stranger, some freak living in their house. It makes you feel sick to your stomach, makes your head pound, but Yunho is rubbing absently at your hip, knuckles brushing up against your sensitive clit every now and then, and your legs are shaking.
“Yunho,” you choke out, eventually, and then sigh, head hitting the mattress. “Can’t I just stay with you?”
“Sure. I’ve always got extra room.” Yunho’s thumb presses against your clit with so much pressure that you jerk, gasping, startled. “You’re really swollen, baby. I don’t think that’s normal.”
You’re turned on. You’re so fucking turned on, of course you’re swollen, you want to say. Yunho rubs absently at your clit making your hips twitch helplessly, chasing the friction, the pleasure spiking now that the pain is so numbed.
“Yunho” Yunho is watching you, something clinical in his gaze, and you avoid it, groaning. Your hips roll upwards and Yunho holds his fingers firm obligingly, waiting. “Yunho, can you…”
Yunho wets his lips, eyes dropping down to his hand. He shifts it, gloves rubbing the wrong way on your skin for a moment, and props his fingers up at your hole. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your body parts around them easily, takes two, three fingers like it’s nothing, and, latently, you hate yourself for being so stretched out, so eager. But Yunho is warm and handsome and maybe you have nurtured a crush on him since you first started rooming together, and when he curls his fingers, it’s with purpose. “Ah, ah, yeah. There, please, I’m—”
Yunho digs his thumb into your clit, rubbing almost an edge too hard, and you shout, thrashing, legs falling down around Yunho’s shoulders as you cum. Yunho fingers you through it, working them down to two, and then one, and then nothing, only his thumb circling your sore clit, winding you down.
It’s almost too much, an added edge to the already overwhelming sensitivity, but Yunho’s heat transfers even through the gloves, and you can’t help but to close around his hand, fingers rushing down to hold it there. Yunho waits patiently as you hump against his hand, shy, clit throbbing with the abuse.
You could get off again. And again, and again, and again, Yunho is so pretty, so warm and kind and real.
But you can’t. The embarrassment rushes up on you, as you grind against Yunho’s hand one more time before you slowly release him, falling back into bed and covering your face with your hands. Yunho’s palm rests on your pussy, feeling but not suggesting, and you try to ignore how nice it feels, the heat.
“Sorry.” you mumble, and Yunho finally, finally pulls his hands away.
It feels awkward, you feel awkward, but yunho is perfectly casual as he rises, stripping off his gloves and going for the hand sanitizer on his nightstand. You close your legs and try to remember where you threw your shorts, and Yunho comes back to you with a little pink jar.
“Try using this. It stains, so you’ll have to wear a hygienic liner, but it should help with the pain and the tearing.” Yunho picks your shorts up off the floor and tosses them at your head, and you grumble, pulling them off just in time for Yunho to sit down, resting a hand on your belly. “You okay, Y/N?”
You peek out from behind your shorts, cheeks warm. Yunho is soft in his jeans, unflushed and unaffected, and as much as that punches your confidence down, makes you feel unattractive or unwanted—the way Yunho pets your belly, the soft sort of look on his face, has your stomach in knots.
You nod. Yunho smiles and your heart jumps. “Thank you, Yunho.”
“Anytime. I’m just glad it’s not too serious.” Yunho leans down, stamping a kiss on your forehead, making you grin behind your shorts. Yunho rubs your arm and your shoulder. “You can stay here tonight. I’m gonna go get Woo and sweep the house.”
You nod obediently and Yunho rises, patting his knees and walking out of the room. As soon as he’s gone, you sag into the bed, sighing.
You feel safe. For the first time in a while, you feel safe.
And, oh God, how you wished that would’ve lasted.
“Thanks,” you say when Wooyoung hands you your mug of tea, a nightly ritual for you both. Yunho is still out at work and Hongjoong and Seonghwa popped in briefly earlier that day before disappearing; this late, it’s dark and peaceful, and Wooyoung is a nice person to just exist with. “Yunho said you put a new lock on my door. Thank you.”
Wooyoung ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “It should hold up. It’s the same one I’ve got on my door.”
And Wooyoung’s room was damn near impenetrable. You rest your head on his shoulder as Wooyoung sits down, pleased.
“You went out with Mingi the other day, right? See anyone you liked?” Wooyoung brings his drink to his lips, cheeks red, and you watch him with a grin. He’s always been an easy fluster, but he’s sweet; it fits him. “Ohh. You did . Scandalous.”
“It was this girl I knew in high school. It was super awkward.” Wooyoung’s grimace is uncomfortable when he sets his mug down and leans back into the couch, shoulder carefully stiff so as to not disturb you. “The last time I saw her, she spilled chemicals all over my clothes. I got burns ‘n’ everything. I think she was just scared I was gonna get my revenge, now.”
You snort. You squeeze Wooyoung’s bicep appreciatively and Wooyoung makes a strangled sound. “You should’ve. What an ass.”
“Not worth my time.” he shrugs, folding his hands in his lap. “Besides, I.. Sort of, uhm, already have someone I’m interested in. I don’t think I wanna go out with Mingi next time.”
You sit straight up, curious, but Wooyoung avoids your gaze. You take another swallow of your drink to hide your smile, and then lean into Wooyoung’s side, humming.
“Well,” you coo, and Wooyoung bats your hand away when you reach around to tickle under his chin. “How’s it going with her?”
“I’ve—We’ve , uh.. Slept together, a few times.” Wooyoung fidgets and you lean back, concerned that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve made Wooyoung genuinely uncomfortable. Wooyoung shrugs. “That’s about it. She doesn’t know that I like her. I.. think she likes someone else.”
You set your drink down, taking one hand to Wooyoung’s back and rubbing reassuringly. “Sorry, Woo. I wasn’t trying to be an ass.”
“‘S okay.” It’s not, but Wooyoung would never say that. He shakes his head. “I heard her with, uh, someone else. And they’re really close, too, so… Yeah.”
You pet his back. You aren't sure what to say for a long minute, mulling over it, but then you drape your arm over the back of his neck and pull him into a hug.
“I know it sounds dumb,” you pet his hair, combing your fingers through it in the way that has Wooyoung melting against you. “But she really is missing out. You’re wonderful.”
Wooyoung’s face is so warm that you can feel it burning through your shirt. “Thanks, Y/N.”
“Don’t beat yourself up on it. You’re not lesser or anything. You’re an amazing person, anyone would be lucky to have you.” You squeeze his arm when you part, offering up a smile, and Wooyoung is grinning giddily, head tucked to his chest. “You’re just great, Wooyoung.”
“Thanks.” Wooyoung repeats. You pat his head, battling the sudden wave of exhaustion that hits you. Wooyoung watches you curiously, eyes darting to the clock on the TV stand, lips pursed. “You’re tired already?”
“Long day.” The weight of finally telling someone, of sharing the burden you’ve been shouldering for some few months— it must have hit you harder than you thought. You lean into the couch back, humming, and when Wooyoung prods curiously at your thigh, you don’t question it. “I might turn in early, Woo. You okay on your own?”
Wooyoung’s cheeks puff out adorably. “I’m not a little kid.”
“Huh? Really? But look at these cheeks.” You reach out and manage to grab a fingerful before he grumbles and moves away. You grin.
“Go to bed.” he mumbles, burying his face in his hands, embarrassed. “Tell me how the lock fits.”
You pat him on the head as you go by, adoring. Back when Wooyoung moved in, he had barely been able to look you in the eye, had carried all his bags and furniture in by himself because he was too shy to ask for help; You’re really happy with the progress, with the friendship you’ve built so far.
Wooyoung is too sweet for his own good. You’re glad that he came to you and Yunho before he fell in with anyone worse.
Nothing stops the cold touch of fear that rolls over you when you enter your room, throwing both locks behind you and pushing your desk chair up against the knob for good measure. You still feel the violation, the shame and anger, the terror that comes with the unknown; you double check under the bed and in the closet and even find yourself shifting your desk away from the wall just to make sure that there’s absolutely nothing behind it.
There’s nothing. You’re safe. Yunho said he’d handle it, and you trust him. You trust Wooyoung’s word for the lock and the security on the windows, too. You trust them to keep you safe, especially now that they know.
You fumble through making your bed, praising every God you know for blessing you with Jeong Yunho and his impeccable taste in laundry detergent. By the time you’re finished, you barely have the energy to stumble towards the lightswitch and back into bed.
It’s warm. Everything smells nice. You kick your shorts off and spread your aching legs, considering for a long moment before you roll onto your back and swipe the wet wipes off the nightstand. The ointment Yunho had given you had worked wonders, and even as you wipe it off, you feel better. Healed.
Among many other things. Your clit swells up and throbs even as you run the wipe over it, intent on getting the ointment off so you can fuck yourself to sleep.
God. It’s been so long. Phantom hands skate over your skin still, Yunho’s touch lingering when you part your thighs, sliding his fingers across your hips, skirting around your clit. You hold your hand in place with the other wrapped around your wrist, grinding up against your hand, whimpering breathily,
And then you pass out.
The initial blackout is so sudden that you assume the voices aren’t real, when you first start to stir.
“..pretty, pretty thing.” It says, and you feel the ghost of pressure breaching your entrance. You squirm, sighing through your nose when that dislodges it. There’s a confused whimper, somewhere, and your brow furrows, because it’s a little too clear for how lucid you’re becoming. Sleep still claws at your eyelids, and you huff, rolling your head to the side and trying to fall back asleep.
The voices won’t stop, though. “Did you use a smaller dose? She’s not usually this active.”
“S-Same as always.” Heavy panting. The feeling of your heavy legs being shifted and pushed around. “Didn’t–Didn’t drink all ‘f it. Thought it’d be f.. Ugh , fine.”
Something pushes into you, making your sore pussy throb even more, and you cry out at the intrusion, twisting away, eyes flying open. Your knees are pushed all the way to your chest, hips protesting at the angle, and you squirm, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, terrified.
Wooyoung is on top of you. Wooyoung is on top of you, hands behind your knees, pretty eyes huge with alarm.
Wooyoung is fucking you.
Your mouth opens, aiming for a scream but all that comes out is a strangled gurgle instead. Wooyoung is frozen, expression wide open in shock, and You twist your knees uselessly, trying to kick him off.
He doesn’t budge. Your voice breaks on a sob.
Yunho appears behind him, looking alarmed, and your stomach curls with relief.
“Yunho,” you garble, desperate, trying to thrash out of Wooyoung’s hold. Wooyoung deflates against him, whimpering, and you sob when you feel him shift, feel his cock sliding further in, making you cry out more. Yunho will help you, Yunho will get him off, Yunho is always there for you. “Yunho, help me, please, please— ”
Yunho runs his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair. You grab at his arm desperately, crying.
“Stupid boy.” He mutters, and pulls Wooyoung back by the hair, sneering at his sad, pained little noise. “Of course it wasn’t enough. Look at her. She’s wide awake.”
“Sorry, hyung.” Wooyoung mumbles, and rocks his hips forward in shallow little thrusts. You lay there in shock, still, your entire body jolting further up the bed every time Wooyoung humps against you.
Yunho pats his head again, this time more gently. Meeting your gaze with a sweet little smile. “Good morning, angel.”
Your skin feels cold. Wooyoung speeds up against you when Yunho's hand trails down his spine, sweaty skin sticking to his, desperate little noises punched out of him with every push. He sounds so pretty. So desperate. You feel yourself clenching down on his length at the sight.
The thought hits you with the same effect as running your head into a brick wall, He’s raping you and you shout, putting your hands on Wooyoung’s shoulders and shoving at him, drawing your feet back to kick at whatever flesh you can reach.
One of your feet connects. Wooyoung flinches hard enough to fall out, staring down at his cock and whimpering sadly, like he’s not sure what happened. Yunho clicks his tongue.
“Look at her,” He croons, sliding his hand over Wooyoung’s shoulder, delicate. He reaches down with the other, stroking Wooyoung’s hard cock even as you scramble up into the corner of the bed, sobbing. “It’s okay, puppy. She was just surprised.”
Wooyoung turns his head into Yunho’s neck, pleased, rolling his hips up into Yunho’s grip. You watch it, horrified, yet turned on as you watch as Wooyoung’s eyes flutter open and closed back and forth in pleasure. Your cunt aches with the morbid need to fill the sudden emptiness again.
You’re not sure what’s going on with your body. You're not supposed to be aroused by the scene in front of you. You're not supposed to be missing the feeling of Wooyoung’s cock sliding into you.
You don’t want this. This is wrong.
Yunho looks at you, smiling, and your heart freezes in your chest. “I’m sure Y/N wants to come back. Right? Wants to be a good girl for us.”
Your voice comes out hoarse, broken in your throat. “Fuck you.”
Yunho clicks his tongue again, and you’re terrified, shoving yourself flat against the wall when he stands. He comes around the bed and you eyeball the door, breathing hard, wondering if you can make it past both of them and out of the house without being caught.
Are the consequences worse if you are caught? What if you don’t try at all? Will they kill you? Hold you hostage? You have to try. You have to.
You dive off the bed and Wooyoung whines after you, pawing at your ankle as it goes by. You try to stand, try to force yourself onto your feet and run, but your legs are already weak, your very bones weighed down with exhaustion, and when you try to stand up, your vision swims.
And you come to realize, as you collide with the floor, that you’ve been drugged.
“Look at that,” There’s a condescending bite to Yunho’s voice, even as he ushers Wooyoung off the bed and onto the floor. “She’s presenting all pretty for you, pup. Come on, make our good girl feel good.”
You throw your arms out, clawing at the floor, trying desperately to drag yourself out of the room, but Wooyoung is heavy and fast and mounts you like it's nothing, both hands fitting around your waist and pushing you harder against the floor.
His cock slides in easy, slick with the horrifying wetness that drips out of your own traitorous body. You whimper, shaking apart against the floor in not pain but in pleasure as Wooyoung fucks into you ruthlessly, chasing the orgasm that’s been building for however long you been asleep.
You can't move. You're alone. Alone with your two roommates that have, apparently, been doing this to you in your sleep for—for long enough that your body has started to open up and let him in without any resistance.
“Hyung,” Wooyoung starts to choke out, pretty voice desperate and breathy, hips kicking hard up into you. A splinter digs into your palm where it rests flat on the floor, mind lost somewhere on your way to attempt another escape of trying not to enjoy what’s happening to you. Wooyoung grabs you by the hips, fucking so hard that he keeps stumbling and shoving too deep in, so hard that you can feel him hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Hyung, hyung, can I-”
“Go ahead.” Yunho’s voice is gentle, so sweet and allowing. You turn your head, biting your lip as you hide your face into your arm to not let a sound of pleasure slip out. You shouldn’t be liking this but the way Wooyoung is pounding into you has you biting your lip to not cry out and beg for more. Yunho is sitting on his desk chair, arms crossed, watching. His jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped and his cock bulges out of them through his boxers, as silent tears stream down your face, head knocking against the floor when Wooyoung throws his full weight on top of you and bucks his hips wildly. “My good puppy. Give your kitty all your cum. She wants it.”
You don’t. You don’t. You do. You do. You cry out when Wooyoung drags you back onto his cock, holding you there as he cums, despite you trying to have some dignity to try to attempt to escape again.
He can’t cum inside. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. You don’t want to be pregnant. You’re not ready for that yet.
But who’s to say he hasn’t been coming inside of you already? This might just be your first time being lucid for it while it happens.
Something about that thought has you clamping down on his dick inside of you and you sob feeling disgusted with yourself.
“Look at her whine,” Yunho coos, as Wooyoung collapses on top of you, you flatten against the floor, feeling nothing but numbness as you feel Wooyoung release inside of you. “Did such a good job, baby. Gonna have lots of pups.”
A barely audible “Ngh” leaves you as your eyes squeeze shut, pressing your cheek into the floor.
“You took the puppy so well, pretty girl.”
You let out a weak moan as Wooyoung rocks into you tentatively and your stomach coils when you realize that Wooyoung is, in fact, still hard. Still fucking into you, hips rolling in weak little circles. Trying to get you fucking pregnant, because raping you in your sleep wasn’t enough.
Your body sags, and Yunho makes a pleased sound that cuts you to your very core. “There we go. Sit back and enjoy it, baby. I can tell you like this.”
Wooyoung bucks into you more obviously, now, and Yunho comes around, patting his head. Wooyoung keens under the attention, practically purring, fucking up into you like you’re nothing more than a warm hole. “Do you want her mouth instead, baby?”
Wooyoung grinds to a stop, thinking, and then shakes his head, turning his face into Yunho’s hand. Yunho’s laugh is fond. “What about her ass?”
You shake apart on the floor, terrified. What else had they done to you? What else had they been doing? How long has this been going on? How long had they planned this?
You had been having coffee nights with Wooyoung since you moved in, years ago. So God only knows when this sick game started.
“Want pups.” Wooyoung thrusts up against you, reaching around to pat your pussy as if he needs to prove the point. “Just want to give her puppies, hyungie.”
“My sweet little pup.” Yunho kisses his temple, and Wooyoung wraps his arms around you with renewed strength, pulling back so that you’re forced to sit on his cock, legs spread over his thighs. You choke, humiliated, but when you try to drop your hands to cover your pussy, Wooyoung pries your hands away.
Yunho squats down in front of you, head cocked. You can’t close your legs, can’t cover yourself; you’re helpless under the appraising eye that Yunho gives you, squeezing your eyes shut tight, fumbling out a prayer that you don’t really believe in.
“Let’s move her to the bed again, pup. Wanna get comfortable.” Yunho reaches out, cupping your face, and You can feel the tears of betrayal as they collide with his hand, a desperate shudder works through you because as much as he hates this, some fucked up part inside of you can’t help but like it. Yunho is so warm, so gentle and sweet as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours and kissing you deep. You hate this, You hate this, You hate this , but.
But Yunho feels so good. So, so good. He licks into your mouth, and your knees tremble, eyes slitting open to look.
He’s so handsome. So pretty and soft. One of his palms presses flat against your belly, sliding down to your pelvis, fingertips closing around your clit, and you spasm. It’s aching and swollen up, soaked in your own wetness, and Yunho’s fingers send a jolt of electricity all the way up your spine; Wooyoung moans into your neck when you tighten up, gasping, and sagging in between them.
“There we go.” Yunho is crooning, petting over your clit almost mindlessly, his other hand sliding around to cup your nape. You whimper helplessly and Yunho kisses your throat. “Sometimes you’ve just gotta loosen ‘em up a little, puppy. Come on, let’s move.”
Wooyoung pulls back obediently, and you choke when he slides out, Yunho’s whole palm slipping under you to cup your cunt, fingers slipping back into your cunt. Your stomach rolls with it, the sick of what’s happening to you, the terror fading away the harder that Yunho rubs up against your spongy walls; he plants his fingers firmly inside and then wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up, manhandling you onto the bed and then into Wooyoung’s lap.
“You really are such a pretty thing.” He whispers against your nape, fingers sliding out only for Wooyoung’s cock to prod its way back into you. Wooyoung wraps both hands around you and you fall forward, palms flat against his chest, pushing yourself up. You’re so sore, so tender, but Yunho’s hand creeps back around to touch you and you sigh through your nose, legs shaking on either side of Wooyoung’s hips.
Wooyoung’s hands slide down to your thighs, squeezing and kneading like they’re made of dough. He bumps into Yunho and grumbles, and Yunho pulls away, watching Wooyoung pull your asscheeks apart and expose you.
You tremble. You know what’s being offered, what’s about to happen, but.
There is no escape. And if there was, where would you go? You’ve built your life with them. Around them.
It’s better to just.. Go with it. The fight had left you long ago and it was starting to feel good for you no matter how hard you tried to deny it.
“That’s my girl,” Yunho says as he sees the look in your eyes. “Just enjoy it baby.” Yunho digs a thumb into your hole on Wooyoung’s next thrust in and you whine softly. Yunho makes a curious sort of sound. “Wish you could get wet here, too.”
You don’t get a moment to breathe. Yunho barely has to move, barely has to gesture before Wooyoung is fumbling behind you, tossing him a half-empty bottle of lube.
“You’ve been good today.” Yunho purrs, and the sound of the cap clicking open is so loud that you flinch. “So you get some of this. Keep being good and we’ll use it next time, too, okay?”
Next time. Next time, next time, next time .
The defeat sinks into your very bones. You mouth dryly at Wooyoung’s collarbone for a moment, trying to hear over the ringing in your ears. Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Okay.”
Yunho pets your back, giving you whispers of encouragement as he warms up the lube between his fingers and begins to prod and stretch out your hole. Wooyoung’s lips find yours, trying to distract you from the stretch as small whimpers tumble from your lips.
You are no stranger to anal, but it’s been years since you’ve done it on your own, much less with another person and never with another person already inside of him. You try to sit up, try to pull back and look, but Yunho pushes you down with a hand on the small of your back, reprimanding.
“Stay still.” There’s an edge to his voice. You freeze, clenching, and Yunho sighs. “We were almost done. Don’t do that again.”
You swallow hard. Wooyoung bucks up very carefully as he starts to harden again, and your pussy is already rubbed raw with the friction, already starting to ache beyond what’s acceptable. But you don’t protest. You couldn’t if you wanted.
Yunho stretches you open on just those two fingers, for a while but when he starts to pull them out you panic.
“Wait.” You plea, turning your head but not your body, obedient. “Wait, please, I can’t– I–need another, I can’t–”
“Want me to stretch you some more?” It makes your stomach ache, shame crawling beneath your skin, pulling it so taut that it feels like you need to escape from it. “Wanna be Daddy’s little rapedoll? Say it.”
You wet your lips. Wooyoung, below you, has gone from thrusting to curling as tightly as he can around you, seemingly just basking in the closeness, in the warmth of your pussy around his cock.
“I’m–“ your stomach turns not wanting to repeat something so vile. The normalcy that you knew before this has torn away, ripped from your grasp, and you’re left with the fact that your roommates are raping you. And have been, apparently, for a very long time. And that you’ve come to accept it and find a small piece of enjoyment from it. “I’m.. Daddy’s little rapedoll.”
It stings coming out. You swallow several times, shutting your eyes and trying to ignore the hum of approval coming from Yunho as he pats your ass approvingly.
“Good girl. Smart girl.”
“Please,” Your breath catches in a sob. Wooyoung nuzzles at your throat, almost comforting, but you feel ready to crawl out of your skin.
“Tell me how much you want Daddy to rape you,” Yunho’s voice is whisper soft, lips trailing along the back of your neck. “Say it. Beg for it, angel.”
“Please rape me, Daddy” It’s barely a broken whisper, head pressed to Wooyoung’s chest, tears rolling down to the tip of your nose. “Please rape me. W-Want Daddy to.. To rape me.”
Yunho groans, loud and long, and then presses the nozzle of the lube bottle directly to your hole. It’s freezing cold and it feels unnatural going in, but it’s better, much better knowing that you’re going to be properly prepped. Yunho spares no time, fucking his fingers back in fast, as you whimper at the stretch.
Yunho spreads his fingers a few more times taking extra care to do long drags before pulling his fingers out swiftly and positioning his cock at your hole.
His cock breaches your hole and you gasp, falling forward into Wooyoung’s chest, hips arching up in response.
Yunho’s arms fold around your waist, one hand slipping down to cup your cunt, fingers spreading around Wooyoung's cock. His palm rests on your clit, and you rub up against it, desperate for anything to distract you from his cock pushing inside of you.
He slides in to the hilt, and your ass trembles and clenches around him, trying spastically to close around Yunho's cock, to force him out.
Being filled from both ends like this clouds your mind, a trail of drool makes its way out of your mouth as you try to relax your muscles to accommodate both cocks that impale you.
You’re crushed between them, gasping helplessly, and Wooyoung whimpers when Yunho rocks his hips a little, testing.
It’s too much. It’s hurts. You can’t move. But it feels so good all at the same time.
“So fucking tight, shit.” Yunho’s fingers rub around your clit, distracted but firm. It feels good. It feels better than nothing. You thrust into it and Yunho and Wooyoung both move with you, groaning. “So good. Such a good rapedoll for Daddy.”
Wooyoung mouths wetly at your chin, and you turn your head, accepting the kiss numbly. You don’t reciprocate as much, as your mouth falls open. You’re too distracted by the repeated thrusts given by Yunho as his dick drags along your walls. Your eyes flutter between open and closed as Wooyoung sucks sloppily at your tongue.
You couldn’t even go to the police, at this point. What would you say? That your roommates raped you and you laid down and took it like a slut? They wouldn’t believe you.
“Hyung,” Wooyoung gasps, bucking up once, twice, and then planting his feet flat on the bed and thrusting up firmly. You sputter. Yunho grunts. Wooyoung doesn’t stop. “Hyung, hyungie, please, pleasepleaseplease–“
“Go on, puppy.” Yunho mounts you, one hand forcing your shoulder down and the other fixed on your clit, rubbing as fast as he can. “Give her your pups. Stuff her nice and full.”
Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. You are fucked dumb and silent between them, drooling stupidly onto Wooyoung’s chest, and Wooyoung slides hands down to the bridge of your thighs and ass, digging his nails in and thrusting hard.
It’s too much. Yunho humps against you with an easy, unmatched rhythm, fingers still working your clit, and your protests are overridden with desperation, a bonfire building in your belly every time they thrust and rub up against the right spots in tandem, Yunho’s hands never stopping.
Too much. It’s too much. Your mouth opens, a warning short on your tongue, but it never makes it out in time; you’re cumming, all over Yunho’s hand and Wooyoung’s belly all at once, squirt spraying all the way up to Wooyoung’s chest. Wooyoung gasps violently and throws his head back, jamming his hips up once more, hard, and cumming with a strangled moan, fingernails digging into your thighs.
Yunho pulls you off of Wooyoung and forces your face down against the mattress, pulling free of your ass and sliding right into your cunt, unbothered by Wooyoung’s mess, by the way your squirt still drips and mixes in with it.
He fucks into you, hard. You cry out moaning at the harsh thrusts as whiny pleas leave your mouth but you’re afraid to think about what for. For him to stop? For him to keep going? For him to cum inside you deep and fill you up with pups just as Wooyoung did?
Wooyoung is still gasping for air, and Yunho is letting out short, breathy moans, now, and with every thrust inside of your pussy, you feel like you are on cloud 9 with the shock of pleasure his cock brings you.
You feel used and your bones feel like jelly and it hits you again so suddenly that you’re being raped. You shouldn’t be– It shouldn’t feel this good. You shouldn’t be clenching around his cock like this praying that he will cum inside of you.
But it’s so good, fuck, it’s so good.
Yunho curls around you when he cums, elbows hitting the mattress beside your head, rolling his hips lazily against yours, teeth digging into the tender join of your neck and shoulder. You whimper, helpless, but raise your head just a little, accepting the doting kiss that Yunho gives you, hips twitching hard as he empties out right into Wooyoung’s mess.
You’re so full. So sticky and disgusting. You melt into it, eyes shut, breathing deeply as you relax into it.
It wasn’t that bad, anyways.
Yunho kisses the side of your head. Wooyoung rolls his way over, needy, trying to wedge his way between you both; Yunho’s cock gives an interested little twitch as he pulls out, but he does nothing about it, curling one leg around you and layering himself over your back, instead.
His teeth catch onto your ear. You’re too exhausted to do anything more than shudder. “You’re gonna be good for us, right?”
Wooyoung tucks his head right up under yours, eyes huge and adoring, and your stomach turns slightly. Do you really have a choice? You have nowhere else to go.
It wasn’t that bad. You trust them.
“Yeah.” you whisper, and they crowd around you like a shell, suffocating despite the space you still have. “I’ll be good.”
I think someone is touching me in my sleep.
Posted 12:56 PM by lovergirl90.
5 replies ⬎
gameboyyh91 : You need to tell your roommates. If it really is some creep living with you guys, they could be in danger.
roseyrocket : are you absolutely sure it’s not your roommates??
pradayou : @ lovergirl90 it’s been a year, but, are u ok
synopsis. best friends puppy and bunny have been getting very close since mating. the scournful looks bring your deeper doubts and insecurities to light. puppy does not appreciate you backing out now.
you really don't mean to, is what you tell yourself every time you duck behind a doorway or skitter down a hall the minute you catch the faintest whiff of his scent approaching you. it's only because every time you think about Puppy, your tummy knots up in a guilty, unpleasant way that makes you want to be sick.
you don't regret what happened, or him. you're happy you'd mated with him. relished in the way his knot swelled inside you and he filled you with so much cum that your belly'd chubbed up around it, adored the way he fumbled nervously with the buckle of the collar he slid onto you after. the final claim he'd left on you that night. he'd got it for you as a surprise and waited until after the knot he'd shoved in you had deflated to put it around your neck.
the problem is, you know what people would think if they saw a bunny and a puppy as a bonded pair. it's not often that a prey hybrid like you gets with a predator like him.
bunnies are meant to be with another gentle creature. one without sharp fangs or claws that cut when they grab.
you can already hear how people would murmur about how stupid you must be to let a puppy scent you and mate with you. they'd say he's just following instinct to pop a knot in whatever's closest to him. that you're a phase he'll grow bored of and go find another predator to be with.
they'd never believe how he told you he loved you, how he buried his face against your chest, unable to let go, how he whined when he finally pushed his knot into you because it was the only thing that could quiet the noise in his head.
part of you thinks maybe he'd been pretending. puppies do act out of control more often than any other hybrid, after all.
you skip sitting next to him at meals these days. you leave your burrow a little earlier in the mornings to make sure you won't run into him on your way to your classes. and if you do cross paths, you pretend you don't hear him calling your name.
you find yourself unable to trust him or how much he claims to love and want you, because all you can hear in your head is what everyone else must be thinking.
the separation is not good for either of you, though.
your brains have now been conditioned to want each other, awaiting the final part of your bond - him biting down on your mating gland and claiming you for good. until it gets that, it won't settle.
your body aches in weird ways when you don't see him or feel him pressed up against you. it's worse than loneliness or sadness - it's physical. your skin gets hot, your throat goes tight, and your little cotton tail twitches restlessly against your thighs like it's searching for something that isn't there. you're constantly soaked too. your body keeps preparing for something that isn't coming.
your body thinks you should be glued to him, curled up in his lap, cock deep inside you, knot plugging you full so not a drop of him can leak out.
but you keep running anyway, even while you feel yourself falling apart.
as if it'll help, you start leaving the collar off. you just take it off one night, fingers twitching and bunny ears pinning against your head in shame as you slip it from your neck and shove it deep into your bag where he won't see it.
without it, you feel… less obvious. less marked. less his.
you can't stand how you feel when you think about his reaction if he ever notices.
of course, he notices.
even when you think you're clever, puppy still finds you. his nose twitches when you're near, ears flicking every time you sneak past, eyes tracking you. when you vanish for too long, you hear him pacing outside your burrow, sniffing the air, whining under his breath, claws scratching against the outside surface that you've shut him out of. he knows you're hiding, and it's hurting him.
you can feel it through the bond, a heavy ache that doesn't fully belong to you. it's from him. without you, he's become frantic and needy in his search for you, and his feelings seep into your body, increasing your own.
said feelings make you curl your thighs together under your blanket at night, rutting desperately against one of your pillows that still have his scent, biting back sobs as you cum messily all over yourself just from imagining him. again.
regardless, when you wake in the morning, sticky and ashamed, you still avoid him.
for days this goes on. you won't stop, and he can't stand it. every time you catch even a glimpse of him, he looks worse. darker circles under his eyes, hands twitching when you walk past him without looking, pupils blown wide with bags underneath indicating a lack of sleep. he smells different too, heady and slightly musky, as his body has been leaking little spurts of slick that stain his pants because he can't stop thinking about you.
₊˚⊹ 𐂯
on the fifth day of dodging him, pretending you don't hear his voice, ducking down paths you've never even seen before, dousing yourself in unpleasant perfumes and lotions to mask your scent, all while silently aching for him, he breaks.
you don't know that he's done with this game of chase when you slip off in the early afternoon with your bag over your shoulder and creep through the courtyard assuming you'll get away with one more day of space. he is determined to put an end to this.
he's tracking you intently, having memorized your schedule and little routines and doing the opposite, knowing that's your plan. he tries to ignore the way his cock won't stay soft in anticipation of finding you and having you. his knot is already starting to swell even though he hasn't touched you. he hasn't even touched himself because he adamantly refuses to. it's not enough. only you are enough.
the bond drags him like a chain around his throat, yanking him down the trail you walked. your scent is everywhere, despite your attempts to suppress it. your pheromones don't go away, neither does your natural bunny musk or the slick leaking down your thighs. he growls when it spikes strongly, indicating you just passed through - and his body jerks forward without him even thinking.
he's drooling. his ears are flat against his skull as he pants and whines, making little desperate noises because you're too far, you're too far, his mate is too far-
you decide to skip your morning lesson because you feel too hot and needy to bear sitting in a stuffy room for an hour and a half. you wander out past the courtyard and into the far-off fields, dumping yourself in the grass to try and calm your body. with your eyes shut and your mind focused on the heat in your core, you don't realize you've been tracked all the way out here.
you don't hear the crunch of dirt under his shoes at first, or his loud panting and his tail lashing behind him at the excitement of finally reuniting with you. you only notice when the bond causes the hairs on your neck to stand on end, your own tail twitching.
he bursts through the treeline, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temples. he looks nothing like your Puppy right now. he looks starved.
"Bun," he gasps. his gaze locks on you hungrily, your scent wrapping around him, causing his whole body to shudder in delight. you're here. here with him. "Bun! why'd you-" he cuts himself off with a low whine, stumbling toward you and dropping himself down in front of you, hands clutching the front of his pants where the obscene bulge strains and drips wetness through the fabric. his tail lashes behind him, making thump thump thump noises on the ground below.
you stare at the sight before you, how he's panting and nearly humping the ground needily, already leaning towards you. his nose catches the scent of your unclaimed mating gland starting to leak open. you stumble back slightly, floppy ears twitching again. "i d-didn't mean to..." the lie comes out of your mouth before you can stop it. you did mean to avoid him, ignore him, cast him aside. he knows that.
his nostrils flare and he lets out a groan, leaning down to press his face against your shoulder, your neck, sniffing and whining like a lost animal finally finding home. "found you," he mumbles, "y'keep running but i always-" he takes a deep inhale of your mating gland, lapping up some leakage. "i can't be without you, bunny, please. i-it hurts so bad, see?" he takes your hand and moves it to the hard outline of his cock through his pants. "it wants you, all of me wants you all the time a-and when you leave me i get like this."
you clamp your thighs together at his admission, your fluffy cotton tail wet at the base from how damp your panties are. his nose twitches at the scent, and his eyes fix on your pretty pussy hidden by your academy skirt. he paws at you for a moment, then trails his eyes up to look for your mating gland and the collar that's supposed to be wrapped around your throat, only to see that it's not there.
his ears flatten against his hair harder, both pointing in either direction agitatedly. now his tail bristles straight out, snarls leaving his mouth almost threateningly. his hands come up to wrap around your neck. "where is it," he hisses. "where is my collar?"
"mph! puppy... puppy i'm sorry, i put it away!"
his claws graze your throat. he's trying to be gentle to avoid hurting you, but it's hard with how you've been treating him the last several days when he's never needed you more, and now you do this to him. the final slap in the face, taking off his gift to you. his eyes widen, getting glassy and wet around the rims. "you took it off," it sounds like an angry sob. "you took it off. you don't want me. you don't-" his voice breaks completely. he takes one hand off your throat to paw at your floppy ears, keeping your head in place so you can't cower away from him. "say it's not true. say you still want me. say it. say it."
your ears twitch in his hands and your face scrunches up a little, more arousal filling your body as he grips on your bun ears firmly. he knows they're sensitive, more so because he'd been biting them when the two of you had sex. it's embarrassing how easily you react to him.
diverting your attention back to the pressing matter at hand and stopping yourself from moaning aloud, you fumble for your bag with clumsy fingers, heart racing. "i-i kept it! ngh, be gentle with me... i k-kept it, see?" you pull the collar out, the leather cold from sitting at the base of your bag all day.
he makes a yipping sound and snatches the collar out of your hands like a starving animal. for a beat he just stares at it, trembling all over. then he lunges towards you, grabbing the back of your neck with one hand to tilt your head up, making sure the heel of his hand presses against your mating gland to get you all dumb and even more aroused by him. he brings the collar to your throat with his free hand, muttering. "mine. my bunny." to you while he fumbles with the buckle and slides the strap around your neck, pulling it snug around your neck.
"ngh pup," you moan as his hand pushes on the sensitive ridges of your glands, replacing the pressure with that of the collar once it's around you. then he drags his thumb over the little tag hanging from it, his initials on it being his final straw.
he shoves his face into the uncovered part of your throat, nuzzling so hard your back hits the grass beneath you. he uses the opportunity to pin you down, nosing, licking, nipping at your neck and jaw. pup's big hands are everywhere - pawing at your hips, thighs, and your breasts. he kneads your softness in his hands, rolling fat thumbs over your nipples to make you keen under him. "want ya t'smell like me again, bun... never take it off again, never run again, please please please just be with me!"
his knot is fully swollen now, a hard bulge straining obscenely against his pants. he reverts to his natural instincts and flips you onto your belly to press himself between your plump ass cheeks and underneath your fuzzy tail. "mm… fuck- can't survive it, bunny. i needa have you."
he bucks his hips against your ass, rutting like he's already inside you. whining, his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you slightly more so your crotch is directly against the thick bulge in his pants.
meanwhile, his face buries into the side of your neck. he keeps whining, nose nuzzling and dragging over your exposed skin. he keeps flicking and lapping his tongue over your gland, mouthing at the slick skin but not puncturing it with his teeth yet.
his hands cup the swell of your ass, dragging his nails along your thighs as he shifts his weight against you, rubbing the thick, meaty length of his cock against your slick panties. every tiny grind makes your hips jerk back to meet him, nipples brushing against the soft cotton of your top, back arching involuntarily to meet your ass with his front. you're presenting yourself for him. every movement makes his knot throb against the curve of your ass, and makes his claws dig just a little deeper into your thighs.
Puppy's claws catch the waistband of your panties and tear them down. he doesn't waste any more time, using his free hand to shove his own pants down enough to free himself. he drops his heavy cock against your bare ass, leaking slick onto your flesh. with a loud whine, he rubs the swollen head against your folds, pushing your soaked tail up so it doesn't get in the way. pre-cum smears all over your pussy lips as he rubs himself between them, getting you even messier by mixing your slick with his. it feels so good it makes him delirious. when the head of his cock bumps against the underside of your clit and you jolt, he can't take it anymore, and starts to push forward.
his tip breaches you slowly, the wetness minimizing the resistance of your tight hole. you cry out into the grass, hands fisting it, as he slides in inch by inch, stretching you out with his meaty cock. "mngh- s' so warm," he babbles, throwing his head back as he breaches deeper, your walls hugging onto his cock so tightly that he has to hold back from cumming inside you then and there. "so tight, bun. missed you, missed you so much…" he rocks his hips shallowly, working himself deeper while trying to make sure he doesn't hurt you.
he grabs onto one of your floppy ears to make you arch your back and take more of him, his tail thwacking against your leg as he buries himself to the hilt, knot bumping against your pussy but not going in yet. he starts rocking his hips and fucking into you, cock slipping wetly through your walls sticky and loud. you can feel how swollen the knot is already, nudging at your clit each time he bottoms out. it's begging to be seated inside you, and it's driving him to fuck you harder and faster. every thrust is a messy grind of skin and slick, as he presses his mouth sloppily against your neck.
"hnn, bun, smell so good... y'smell so fuckin' good," he mumbles, tongue dragging over your gland again and catching every leaking drop with his long puppy tongue. his nose is pressed so firmly that he's inhaling your pheromones straight from the source, and it's messing with his brain even more. his thrusts speed up until he's literally pounding you into the grass, flared head bumping against your cervix and dragging back against your soft walls so he can do it again. "gonna go crazy, 'm already s'obsessed with you... you can't leave me again, bun, need y'so much, all the time-"
your arms give under his weight, your chest pressing into the grass. he starts tugging your shirt off so he can have you completely nude under him, big hands squeezing at the fat of your breasts, anchoring you in place by groping you while he thrusts into you hard and fast. the knot keeps bumping and pressing against your pussy, catching a little more each time, stretching you open just a fraction before popping back out.
"need it inside, bun," he groans, angling his thrusts down so the swollen knot slams against your rim, stretching you wider each time until you squeal into the dirt. "please, can't stand bein' out here empty, you're s'posed to be full of me, always. look-" his hand drags down your tummy, palm pressing against the soft bulge his cock makes inside you, "there, feel me? needs to be all the way in, bun. all the way in your belly."
sobbing into the grass he's got your cheek pressed against, your walls clamp down tight around him to drag his cock in for more and squeeze him in place to keep your cunt full of him. your thighs tremble as slick runs down them in messy strings. you milk him with each thrusts, and he lets out a loud cry when you clamp down too hard, his hips snapping forward as the thick swell of his knot finally pushes inside, stretching you open with a loud pop.
his arms wrap around your waist immediately as you scream and flail, hauling you back flush against him as his knot locks into place, shoving his cock even deeper inside you so his tip shoves inside your cervix just a little. he's all up in your guts now, cock breaching your womb. you SCREAM in ecstasy, thrashing even as the knot and his arms keep you stuck to him.
"mm! gotcha bun," he gasps, drooling against your neck as his cock throbs deep inside you, pulsing in time with his rapid heartbeat. "got my bunny back, mnghhhh 'm not lettin' go,"
his cock throbs hard inside you, and you realize he's about to cum, knot swelling impossibly tight inside you as his balls push flat against your folds. his teeth graze your gland again but he doesn't bite yet, just pants and cries loud, desperate moans into your throat as his hips jackhammer shallow and fast. his whole body trembles, ears pressed flat, tail stiff. then he lets out a loud whimper and everything inside you seizes up.
he unleashes his first load of heavy, hot cum inside your belly. it floods inside you in waves, his cock jerking inside you with each spill from his twitching cock, his knot grinding deeper into the snug ring of your entrance. it's pouring out of him in endless spurts, slicking your walls until it's sloshing inside you. his knot keeps you plugged so nothing leaks out, and now you feel stuffed full past capacity. your tummy swells against his palm when he slides his hand down to press against it.
his cock throbs inside you, another gush flooding past your cervix and pooling in your womb as he keeps pumping his cock further to make sure it gets all inside. your ears flop forward since he'd let go of it, and you moan high and needy, eyes rolling back. but he's not done. his teeth start digging into your gland. you know you should be afraid because the bond is forever, but you know that he's the one you want as your mate forever. your gland throbs where his mouth suckles. "do it," you wail. "please, p-pup, just do it!"
and that's all he needs to sink his fangs into the swollen gland.
it hurts at first, the puncture of teeth in your most sensitive spot making you cry out, but it's drowned away quickly by the rush of pleasure that follows. a gush of slick squirts out from you around his knot, splattering his thighs at the same time your bond opens for him and his teeth marks lock into the soft glands. you scream as you reach your peak, pussy spasming around his cock and milking him even tighter. it causes another torrent of his cum to spurt inside you. you squeezed him so tight right now, and your squirting was all it took for him to unload even more.
he howls into your neck, knot expanding to keep in the higher volume of his repeated loads. each one feels heavier than the last, your belly taut and sloshy, stretched round from how much he's dumped inside you. his tongue laves over the bite as his teeth stay sunk, sealing the bond while your body shakes under him.
warnings: dubcon, dumbification, daddy kink (two uses of the title dad), this is essentially ddlg but focused on the dd part plus kinda forced, hongjoong's a little manipulative, slight feeding kink, hole inspection, implied somno (not arranged beforehand), implied dom/sub dynamics, hongjoong grooms her into an oral fixation, degradation, a little bit of impact play, edging, fingering, painal.
It's nearing twelve once you trudge through the door, weather-beaten and weary. Everything feels heavy; weighted, like your lugging around a sack of bricks. There's a sense lethargy to everything you do, every movement not of your own volition. In the distance, you can hear the TV going.
You slide off your shoes, hang your keys, and take two steps. That's when the tears burst through, and you tremble under the weight of them. You totter through the hall barely seeing, bereft. You don't even realize Hongjoong has drifted to your side until he speaks.
"What's wrong, sweet girl?"
His tone is tender, love bleeding from the edges, and it makes you cry harder, hands reaching for his shirt to pull him closer. Hongjoong's arms wrap around you and your body wilts, leaning into him. He doesn't speak until your crying has devolved into occasional sniffles, a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks.
"Your job," he states, flat with barely contained distain. It's a not a question, because he already knows the answer.
You nod anyway, and you hear him sigh, holding you a little tighter.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You think about it.
You breath out, "no."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," you mumble.
"Have you eaten?"
"No, but I'm not hungry. Can we just lay down?"
"Can't have that, you gotta eat something," Hongjoong says, and he's slipping away because you can protest, heading straight for the kitchen.
"Joong, I don't wanna eat right now."
He simply keeps moving like you haven't said anything.
He doesn't speak until after he's set the food on the table and takes a seat in the chair in front of it, "come here."
It's braised pork belly over rice, and it smells heavenly, but you still don't want to eat. You don't know why he's being so insistent. You wish he'd quit.
"Come here," he repeats, a warning.
Despite yourself, you walk to him.
Hongjoong pats his lap, "sit."
"Joongie," you mumble.
"Sit."
Hesitantly, you lower yourself into his lap, and his hands come to rest on your sides.
"Eat or I'll feed you myself."
The words— no, the order— stuns you. Your heart picks up a little, a quiver of anxiety running through you. Hongjoong's never been this direct— a little forceful at times, but he's never outright demanded something before.
You try to hold your ground, "I told you, i'm not hungry."
"If you want to act like a kid, you're going to get treated like one," he remarks, plucking the chopsticks off the table.
Watching him gather the food is dizzying, harrowing; a weird amalgamation of the two emotions swirling around inside of you. This sense of alarm sounds off in your head.
He presses it against your lips when he's done, smearing sauce on your skin, "open."
For a moment, nobody moves. You sit there, dazed, and Hongjoong hand continues to stroke your side. His silence filled with expectation, patiently waiting. You're not going anywhere until you eat goes left unsaid.
Slowly, you open your mouth, and he pushes it onto your tongue. You watch him collect more food as you chew, and you have to ignore the chill that runs down your spine. It's good. It tastes amazing, but you can't help the way your stomach churns. You can't help the way Hongjoong's pleased hum peeves you.
You smother it immediately. He just wants what's best for you is what you tell yourself. He just shows it in a different way. It's how you know he cares.
You shift slightly, squirming away from whatever's poking you, but Hongjoong's breath hitches, nails digging in your skin, "stay still."
His voice is clipped, strained. It sounds like he's disappointed, and the thought make you nervous— is this really that important to him?
Are you being a bad partner because you won't let him?
There's a pause, until you hear him sigh, his grip loosening.
So, you attempt to relax into it.
"Say ah," he coos, soothing.
It's not that bad. It's a little awkward. Everything feels all out of wack, too much at once. The food already at your mouth before you finished chewing. A glass being tipped into your mouth before you can think of asking— everything's wrong. You shift slightly, squirming away, but Hongjoong's breath hitches, nails digging in your skin.
But, if you're being honest, it's not horrible.
You can handle it.
Hongjoong's just trying to be helpful; he wants to take care of you. You should be grateful. Not everyone has a boyfriend who'd do this for them.
You accept another mouthful.
It's a little more than half-way when you realize, it's actually kind of nice.
There's rythym to it now, a newfound pattern. He's slowed down, allowing you to finish chewing before he has another bite ready, learning the exact moment you want a sip of your drink. At some point, he starts predicting your needs before you've even thought them. The entire process is surprisingly nice, and it's not long before this haze begins to settle over you, overlapping your thoughts like TV static. Your mind is pleasantly empty, all of your thoughts drifting away.
Hongjoong is the one to knock you out of your trance, "go shower. I'll wash everything."
You didn't even realize the bowl was empty or how full your stomach felt.
You whisper an okay before handing off to the room to gather your clothes. Your mind is still oddly squishy, dimmed, like there's a veil over everything; it's pleasant. You feel… helpless, but in a not bad way. You linger on that thought all the way to the shower. You choose not to think too hard about it.
The shower is wonderful. The heat of makes your skin tingle, the water cascades down your body like a waterfall. The woes of the day mixes with the suds and goes down the drain.
Hongjoong's lounging on the couch when you come back, arms crossed, eyes locked on the TV screen. A romcom that you know he's not really watching playing. You collapse next to him, but he wordlessly moves you to straddle his lap.
"I don't know why you won't quit," he murmurs into the top of your head.
You sit back to look him in the eye, "joongie, please. I promise I don't want to quit, it's just a lot sometimes."
"I don't like seeing you so stressed all the time, it's not good for your health," he mutters.
You're too tired for this.
"I don't want to quit."
"I don't understand why, you don't need to work."
"You don't need to understand," you snap, "let it go."
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Do you understand how bad it hurts me to see you like this?"
Sighing, your head falls to rest on his shoulder, "joongie, please. Not right now."
"Fine."
Shifting every so slightly, Hongjoong maneuvers you into a more comfortable position. His thumb prods your lip, and like clockwork your mouth envelopes the digit. You suck on it languidly, the tension melting off of you. You don't remember when having something in your mouth soothed you so much. You think it's something more recent, developed later in life by stress.
You fall asleep like that.
You've must've fallen asleep because the next time awareness comes Hongjoong's hands are tucked between your legs, a finger probing your slit. You head lifts, eyes peeling open, and Hongjoong coos, "don't panic, just let me check. Just wanna see."
He's between your spread legs; your underwear discarded somewhere. Your head is perched on the arm of the couch, one leg hanging off the edge. The cool air makes you shiver. Hongjoong's fingers spread your folds and you keen from the sudden exposure. Your mind is slow to catch up, still sluggish from sleep.
"Joongie, what're you doing?"
"I'm just making sure," he replies, like that answers everything.
"Joong," you whine, "m tired."
"Hush, sweet girl, let daddy take care of you."
"But it's so late," you huff.
"Is that anyway to talk to me?" He asks, voice hard, the sting of his hand swatting your pussy makes you jolt. Your attempt to close your legs are halted by Hongjoong's hands holding you in place.
You whine, "quit it."
"I let you get away with so much," he sighs, hands kneading your thighs, "but little girls like you are too dumb to see how much I do for you."
"M not dum—"
"Yes, you are baby, you can't even refer to me correctly," he tuts.
The confusion that paints your face almost makes him laugh, instead he keeps his face blank.
"Joongie?"
"Not quite."
"Hongjoong," you try again.
His jaw tenses, another harsh swat to your cunt, "absolutely not."
"I'm… I don't know," you whisper, embarrassed.
"See, I told you you're not that smart," he croons, "s'okay, little girls don't need to be smart; they just need to be good. It's something you've said before. Try again, sweetheart."
It's something you've said before.
You think hard and long. You don't use a lot of pet names for Hongjoong, most of time it's usually his name but shortened.
The realization is a slow thing.
Minutes past, until you quietly utter out, voice so faint he can barely hear it, "…daddy?"
His smile is instantaneous, "you got it, baby. See, all you needed was a little help; all you needed was my help."
His hands slide to your inner thighs, thumbs spreading your folds apart, "but daddy wasn't finishing looking, so you'll have to continue being his good girl while he finishes up."
"But Jo-" the mere look on his face has you correcting yourself, "but daddy, that's embarrassing."
"It doesn't matter. Now be quiet, daddy knows your body best, doesn't he?" He chides.
The words make you squirm, but Hongjoong doesn't scold you for it, he simply continues observing, admiring. There's a heavy look in his eyes you haven't seen before— one far more darker than normal, but oddly nurturing. It's not hungry, but possessive, restraining. Something that sends a weird buzz down your spine; almost like a zap of fear but not, just similar.
"Daddy," it's more of a cry than a word, but it's ignored in favor of his finger sliding over your slit.
"You're so wet, sweet girl," he chuckles, "what's got you so worked up?"
The whimper that falls out of your mouth is purely accidental, but pleases him nonetheless.
"Can't speak, huh?" His thumb makes contact with your swollen clit, and your eyes roll, "you need me to make you feel this good, don't you? Can't do anything by yourself."
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah?" His fingers dip to probe your slit, "need me to fill you up the way you like? To fuck you the way you need?"
You nod vehemently, agreements spilling out of your mouth, half-baked and needy. Your hips inching closer to guide his fingers to where you want them, where you need him, and he lets you.
Your hips roll into him seeking more, and Hongjoong gives, rolls wide circles on the sensitive bud. Slow and steady. Enough to have your head lolling off to the side, your eyes drifting around. You glance at the TV and distantly wonder why everything so blurry, why they look like mere puppets instead of people. A tear slips down your cheek, and you realize that you're crying.
You're keening, sobbing. Tiny little moans breaking out of you the closer he tugs you to orgasms, and he praises you like it's all he knows how to do.
You can barely hear them, but they make you feel warm, fuzzy. Like you're doing something right for the first time in a long time. You feel fulfilled. Free.
"Silly girl," he murmurs, "you needed this didn't you? Forced to be a big girl all day, when you should be my little girl. You are dad's baby girl, aren't you?"
You're so close, and he's right. He right. Daddy's right. Dad's always right.
You don't even realize that it's leaking out of you, till he replies, "such a good girl. Don't you want to feel like this forever."
You can't think, can barely speak, but he's waiting for a response so you force out a soft, "Mhm."
"Then, why won't you quit?"
You don't even register them under the weight of your incoming orgasm, "daddy, 'm gonna cum. Gonna make me cum."
The lose of pleasure is like being dunked under ice cold water, harsh and biting. Impossible to ignore.
You start begging immediately.
"Daddy, please," you sob, "I need it. I need it. I need it so bad. It hurts."
"Answer me."
Your voice is a mere croak, "huh?"
"Why won't you quit?*
"I don't know. I just don't wanna," you whisper because words are so hard to come by right now, and you can't string anything substantial.
"I know you're dumb, but you're not that dumb, baby."
You try to concentrate. You try to properly explain yourself, but the words won't come, and Hongjoong's looking at you expectantly, and nothing's feels good anymore.
You're free falling, you're crashing down. There's a growing mass in your chest; a dumbbell replacing where your heart should be. Your tears swiftly become that of agony.
You feel bad. You feel like you're being bad.
"Tell me, you'll quit." He says, monotone. The blandness has goosebumps rising.
Is he disappointed?
"C'mon, speak."
"Please."
"No, say it."
"joongie," you try again.
"That's not my name," he snaps, and your chest tightens.
"Say it, or you don't cum. I'll be very disappointed in you, you've been doing so well up until now."
You imagine Hongjoong disappointed in you, Hongjoong mad at you.
"I'll quit," you hiccup, "I'll quit, daddy. I promise."
Hongjoong's thumb presses against your clit, and your brain melts. Your heart starts pumping again.
You're being good. You're his good girl again.
You're his little girl.
Something in you is fracturing; a chasm forming, something new nestling itself into the gaps. Something you've never felt before. Something that you cannot describe. The feeling collides with the rush of postponed climax. Mixing together and creating something that has your thighs twitching.
You're so messy. Slick gushing out of you and dripping down your crack, pooling onto the couch below; volcanic.
Your entire body is sweaty. Your shirt clinging to your chest, and sweats lingers on your forehead, collecting under your breasts.
You are nothing but heat.
Your hole is quivering, begging to be filled. It isn't silent about it's neglect.
"God, you're so needy, baby," Hongjoong giggles, fascinated, "want me to fill your poor, little hole? Need something to stretch you out?"
The moan that snakes out of you is nothing but desperate. Pleas fall out your mouth like the spit trailing down your chin.
You're going to cum.
"Gonna cum," you pant, "can I cum? Please let me cum."
Hongjoong smiles, sharp and devious, "sorry, baby."
Then, he's pulling away and your orgasm is fading again.
"Need you to say one more thing for me," he says.
You blink.
"You can do that, right?"
A swift nod.
"Say you need me."
"I need you, daddy," you squeal.
"Need me for what?"
"Everything," you babble, "need you for everything— always makes me feel so good. You make me feel so good, daddy. Always need you."
Hongjoong hums, elated, "such a sweet girl, just needed to be taken care of."
You like the sound of that, you like the thought of it.
Bring taken care of.
That's what he's doing, isn't he?
Taking care of you. Making you feel good. Showing you how to be good.
"I am?" You slur, dizzy.
"You are," he affirms, "you're the sweetest girl."
You feel you could melt. You feel like you could float. You feel like you could burst into a bunch of butterflies and fly away. Skyhigh. Up, up and beyond.
"But, you haven't been listening lately."
"I haven't?"
"You haven't."
"m sorry," you mumble.
"It's okay, but you need to be punished."
You nod. That makes sense.
"And you still want me to fuck you?"
Another nod, faster this time.
"So daddy's gonna fuck your cute little ass, okay?"
"Daddy," you whimper, eyes wide, "I don't know… I don't think I can tell it."
The softest groan leaves Hongjoong's lips. His eyes turning dark and hazy, "it doesn't matter what you think baby— I'll make you take it."
The sterness in his tone has your jaw clamping shut.
"That's a good thing, it should hurt," he notes, stretching the words out so they'll stick, "you need to learn to listen."
"Dad—"
"Hush."
Your mouth shuts.
The tears come back with a vengeance, racous sobbing that hurts your chest.
Hongjoong slips his pants down, and the sight of his cock makes you cry harder.
"So big," you whisper, terrified.
In response, it twitches, red-hot and angry.
Unceremoniously, Hongjoong shoves three fingers into your cunt, scissoring them.
Crying out, your hands fly to his arm, attempting to push him away.
He doesn't pay you any mind, curling his fingers before yanking them loose. He wraps his slick covered fingers around his cock, gives himself a few pumps, and then shuffles closer.
Like this, his cock is resting on the mound of your cunt, allowing you to soak in the warmth of him, take in the length. Showcasing how much of him is about to be buried inside of you. He taps his cock against your pussy. Once, twice. Smearing slick onto your pubes.
He leans back, and then his hand is pressing his cock head against your tight hole.
The sound that rips out of you is terrible— a horrible animal screech that tumbles out of your throat. Your breath punched out of your lungs with a disgusting, wet wheeze. You scramble, convulsing, your mouth split open in a silent scream. Eyes wide but unseeing. Hongjoong's hands jilt bruises on your hips, and you twist, thrashing around.
Your head knocking against the arm of the couch. Your fist thumping against his chest, nails scraping the tough flesh of his arms— you are a trapped dog, leg stuck in a bear trap.
You're prattling, "daddy, 'm gonna rip! I can't take it."
Hongjoong's pace is unforgiving; cruel. Pummeling your guts like he's trying to actually rearrange them, like he'll be able to knock them loose and make them fall out.
"Daddy," you babble, ears ringing, "please, it hurts."
"But, you're taking it s'well," he grunts, "and you still haven't learned your lesson. Need to make sure you won't do it again."
"I won't," you yelp, "I won't daddy. Never. Never again."
"Just a little more," he mutters, leaning down and planting a kiss to your soaked cheeks, tongue lapping at the running tears, "you taste so sweet."
The words send a wave of relief washing over you— he's not mad. He still loves you.
It almost makes the pain worth it.
You're stretched so thin, every part of you is aching. Tension building. You're bound to snap if he keeps pulling. The muscles in your thighs protest at the position, splayed wide to fit Hongjoong between them, but the pain is overshadowed by the feeling of Hongjoong's cock driving into your ass, over and over again.
There's so much warmth there. There's so much stretch. It's all so much, it's all too much.
You can't handle it.
Hongjoong's not letting up, not giving you an inch. You need a break, something, anything. You need him to slow down.
"Daddy," you wheeze, "please."
"Yes, sweetheart?" He drawls, low and lazy, like he doesn't know what he's doing.
Like he doesn't always know what you need.
And that's the point.
Hongjoong always knows what you need. He knows when you need it, how you need it, and when to give it to you.
So, you needed this.
You needed to be taught a lesson, needed to be better.
He just wants to make you better.
He just wants you happy.
"I get it," you shriek, "I'm sorry, I didn't understand before. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm sorry for being bad. I'm stupid."
"Really?" He asks, but you don't even hear him.
"I don't know what to do without you," you hic, defeated, "can't do anything without you. Need you to take care of me. Need you to think for me. Don't need anything but you."
"Oh," he gasps, cock twitching, "you do get it."
Hongjoong nose nuzzles your cheek, lips brushing the supple skin, "knew you'd understand. Daddy has to do this, or you'll never learn."
Hongjoong sneaks a hand in between the two of you, and his fingers clumsily attach to your clit, pinching and flicking it. His mouth joining yours to swallow up your pathetic moans— it's chaotic, teeth bumping teeth. Hongjoong spit pouring into your mouth, his tongue pushes against the inside of your chest. It's greedy and dirty, spit falls out the corners of your mouth, adding to the mess beneath you.
Hongjoong's groaning into you, hips losing their rhythm, and devolving into sporadic, aimless thrusts.
Your orgasm sneaks back up on you, yanking you under like a tidal wave.
You can't tell when it hits you just that it does, and it is intense. Enough to make your toes curls and more fat tears to rush down your face. Your cunt gushing around nothing, your ass clenching around Hongjoong's cock, as he thrusts one last time before he spills inside your hole.
Hongjoong rests inside you like that for an indefinite amount of time, basking in the closeness.
Consciousness is a fleeting thing afterwards, it comes to you in bits and pieces.
Hongjoong's picking you off the couch, carefully not to jostle you but isn't quite successful.
He doesn't acknowledge you when you meet eyes, and you know that means it's okay to get to sleep, hongjoong's got it.
He always does.
The next time awareness comes, you're in the tub. The water smells like lavender oil and Hongjoong's being so gentle you want to cry. Methodically wiping you down with a wet towel, your head propped up so not to hurt your neck. There's a dull sting in your backside; the beginnings of what's to come. You won't be able to sit down tomorrow, or even the day after.
You suppose that was the point.
He wanted to really make it stick.
Your eyes flutter, Hongjoong's ginger hair looks so vibrant in the bathroom light, cheeks rosy.
He looks beautiful. His eyes are tender. He loves you.
Your eyes close.
They don't open again.
You look so peaceful now, the sorrow from before washed away in the tub, swirling down the drain. He carries you to the bed, and decliately lies you down. Hongjoong climbs in and wraps his arms around you, placing your head on his chest, and resting his hand on your lower back. The other hand gently massages your head.
Your breathing is shallow. Slow. Unbothered.
You were so tired. Poor thing.
He picks your phone up, and glances over the message sent.
It reads: I'm sorry, but I cannot continue working here.
He blocks the number, sets the phone back down, and looks at you one last time.
It doesn't matter how you feel about it tomorrow. He'll make you understand if you don't, but he thinks, after today, you'll finally understand where he's coming from.
That you'll realize a little girl like you can't make decisions like that on your own, and that he should make them for you.
warnings: predator/prey play, blood, fighting, dub-con, fingering, objectification etc.
a/n: as my thank you to ya’ll for 1k followers, here’s the first day of kinktober early! im so excited to share all my writings with you guys, so buckle down cause its only depravity from here on out.
enjoy.
Run.
That was all he had said to you.
He was standing on your front porch when you arrived home from work, exhaustion setting in your bones when you parked your car. Work had been strenuous as usual, and all you could think about was curling up beneath your sheets and melting into sleep.
It was late, well past 11 pm, your eyes were half open, and your movements were sluggish, barely awake.
You stepped out of your car and locked it, the sound of the beep echoing off the trees from the forest that surrounded your little house. It was not too far from the city, but just enough so that you felt like you were living a quiet life.
You took in a deep breath as you walked to your house, but stopped in your tracks.
Someone was standing on your porch. The figure was dark, the porch lights backlighting him ominously. He was huge. Tall. Bulky. Your brain went quiet, your heart stopped. The blood in your veins rushed like a roiling river.
Your mouth went dry, pure, unbridled fear scraping its nails down your back.
You didn’t dare take another step. You were trying to see if you could recognize him as he continued to stand there. Motionless.
The crickets screeched, and the moon above glared down through the piercing darkness. The sweat on the back of your neck began to gather, and your heart was racing.
You didn’t dare speak. This standoff between you and this stranger was preventing you from making it inside your house. You couldn’t even see his face.
He took one step forward, one foot now on the first step of your porch. Instinctively, you took a step back, mirroring his rigid movements. This time, the light from your porch glared across the man’s face. You suppressed a soft squeak at the recognition.
Fear, confusion… anticipation.
It was almost like the crickets stopped, it was only you and him, and the trees listened to your laboured breaths. He held no weapon, but his unwavering gaze was sharp enough to cut.
The muscle in your calf twitched, like your body was screaming at you to flee.
A whisper. Quiet, carried through the empty noises of the night. Your heart pumped. Your blood ran cold.
You took another deep breath, dropped your purse, turned toward the edge of the forest…
And ran.
When you crossed the line of trees, you were immediately engulfed in swallowing darkness. Tree branches scraped and pawed at your exposed arms and legs as you ran. Your blood pumping, your head swimming, your muscles burning.
The air whirred by your ears as you bolted through the dark, thick forest, not daring to slow down so long as you could help it.
Your breaths come out sharp and quick, the crunch and snap of the forest under your feet sounds like gunshots in your ear, unable to distinguish between your own footfalls and whoever was chasing after you like they wanted to fucking eat you.
Your arms were covered in welts and scratches from the relentless abuse of the tree's branches, merciless to your poor heart.
You made random sharp turns, left, right, right, left, right, doing everything you could to try and lose him. Your body was giving out, your breathing shallows, and your legs on fire.
Your lungs stung, and all you could see was an endless stretch of trees, all looming above you like a wooden cage.
You felt like you had been running for hours, your feet carrying you farther with the adrenaline flowing through your body. You had long lost sight of your lonely house, turning back to see if you could see him, of course, you couldn’t in the blackness of the woods.
But you could hear him, and it set your fear ablaze.
Quickly, you turned again, pressing your back against a large willow tree. You kept your feet firmly planted on the ground so the leaves wouldn’t crunch under your weight, and you took a few breaths before ultimately deciding your breathing was too loud. You quieted your breath, shaking against the tough tree bark as you strained your ears to listen.
The leaves crunched somewhere on your far right. You closed your eyes and prayed for the first time in 13 years.
He had stopped walking. Silence.
Nothing.
You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and it only seemed like your heart rate continuously climbed.
An owl called in the distance. A coyote howled.
“Got you.” Large, rough hands snatched your shoulders and lifted you like you were made of air, weightless. He pushed your body to the ground, your head knocking back against the cold ground. He towered over you. And your suspicions were confirmed. Song Mingi. Messy black hair, a crazed look in his eyes. Shoulders rising and falling with his breath, staring down at you like all he wanted to do was eat you alive.
How you knew him was not important; all that mattered was that he was here right now. And you weren’t going to give him what he wanted without making him work for it.
He leaned down to grab your legs, and immediately you began to kick, legs flailing, aiming for his broad chest. He snatched your ankles before your kick could land and squeezed them together in one hand, holding you still, making you wince from the strength of his grip.
“C’mon, baby,” he snarled, yanking your body across the ground closer to him, the stray branches scratching your back.
“Fight back, will you?” His nails dug into your skin. “Hit me, bite me, scratch me. Fuck me up!” He leaned closer to your face to taunt you, grab the base of your throat to pull your body up and closer to him, but quickly, you launched a fist right into the side of his face.
He staggered, and his grip loosened on your ankles. Quickly, you ripped your legs away and scrambled back, keeping your eyes on him as you slowly lifted yourself to stand on sore legs. Your fist hurt from the power of the punch, and Mingi paused his ministrations.
He laughed, smiling up at you, shades of crimson coating his white teeth. He spat on the ground, like he had a bad taste in his mouth, the mixture of his blood and saliva seeping into the cold earth.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about.” He nearly moaned, quickly standing and walking towards you with a new hunger in him, crazed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his fist, blood smearing across his cheek. The sky roared with thunder, and the clouds opened up and rain fell like hail upon the forest, immediately soaking you to the bone. “Love when you make me hurt for it.”
You whipped your body around and started to take off running again, Mingi high on your heels. You didn’t get far before his arms encircled your waist, his feet kicking beneath yours to make you lose your footing, before he slammed your body to the ground. The breath was knocked from your lungs as you felt his body press into yours, and you threw your head back to knock your skull against his face.
His breathing was ragged, but you could hear laughter between every breath, his grip on you only tightening. “Go on, tire yourself out for me.” He sneered, flipping your body over so you were on your back. His arm lifted to press right under your throat, holding your head to the ground. His free hand lifted and snatched your wrists, pinning them to the ground above you. The freezing rain pelted against your heated bodies, your struggle never-ending underneath his large form.
He straddled your lap, putting all his weight on you to prevent you from moving. Yet you continued to fight.
“Still got some fight in you, huh?” Mingi squeezed your wrists harder and pressed his arm further against your throat, nearly preventing you from taking a breath. “Strong girl…”
“Fuck you,” you spat, the fight in you slowly diminishing.
“Ask nicely,” he smirked, moving his arm away from your throat to allow you to breathe. But its new destination made your heart leap as he trailed it down your body to the waistband of your pants.
Your cheeks flushed, and your breathing hitched as you jerked and tugged your wrists in his hold.
Mingi pouted, slipping his hand into your shorts. “Aww, no more fighting? You giving up, baby?” His fingertips brushed against your clit through your underwear, and your back arched into his touch. His breath came heavy and frenzied, like he was holding himself back from ripping you apart. "Boring..."
You bit your bottom lip, the taste of blood flooding your tongue, you managed to yank one of your arms free from his grasp, and immediately reached forward, curling your fist into his hair and yanking it from the scalp, pulling his head down closer to your face.
With his neck exposed, you sank your teeth into his throat, hard.
Mingi let out a primal groan, rolling his hips against your stomach, a shiver slipping down his spine. “Yeahhhh, there we go, be rough with me…” He slipped his hands out of your shorts, shimmying himself down your body so he kneeled between your legs. He yanked the shorts off of you, his hand pressing your thighs together and lifting your legs so your ankles rested next to each other on his shoulder. Immediately, his fingers were back on you again, gliding smoothly through your slick cunt.
The grip on his hair only tightened as white hot pleasure replaced the adrenaline in your veins, your mouth fell open in a strained moan, your legs absent-mindedly spread to let him touch you more.
“Oh, you nasty slut…” Mingi rolled his hips against you again as his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles against it. “Getting off on this? You’re fucking soaked.”
Your hips bucked against his touch, and you couldn’t deny how extremely turned on you were. Your skin was hot, and the rain was relentless against your intertwined bodies, washing away any guilt and leaving nothing but heat in its wake.
“Fuck… please!” you cried, circling your hips to try and feel more of his body against you.
Mingi laughed, slipping his thick fingers down your slit and slipping them inside your needy pussy, immediately curling them upward inside of you, making come-hither motions against you as your walls fluttered around him.
You made a choked sound, your hand slipping out of his disheveled, soaked hair and digging your nails into the dirt.
“A couple kicks and a punch and you’re done?” he mocked, looking down and spitting onto your aching clit, his bloody saliva trickling down your cunt and over his thrusting fingers. “I chase you down and tackle you onto the ground like an animal, and all you can do is beg for more. What a sick girl…”
Your orgasm was rearing its head, barrelling towards you faster than ever. Your words were garbled and your maons were pathetic, and Mingi was eating it up.
The onslaught of rain nearly drowned out your desperate cries and Mingi's groans. He let go of your wrist, no longer worried you’d run from him. You were like putty in his hands, melting into his touch and submitting to him like he was your God.
He unbuttoned his jeans and hastily slipped them down just enough to let his cock spring free, and he swears he’s never been harder in his entire fucking life.
“C’mon baby, cum on my fingers, show me how much you love being put in your place, show me how bad you want me to fuck you so hard you go stupid. Come on, come on…”
His fingers only continued to abuse your poor cunt, and you were cumming in no time, your breath leaving your lungs as your vision flashed white.
Mingi gave you no time to catch your breath; you didn’t even get halfway through your orgasm before he slipped his fingers out of you, filling your empty, fluttering cunt right after by shoving his aching cock into you, bottoming out in one brutal thrust.
His fingers were in your mouth before you could even register he was inside of you, pressing back against your throat. You could taste his blood, his spit, your arousal on his fingers as he slid them up and down against your pretty tongue like he was fucking your mouth, slow and sensual in comparison to how he rutted his dick in and out of you, legs shaking as each stroke dragged against that spot deep in your belly.
His hips smacked against yours in a punishing rhythm as you rode out your orgasm on his dick. Mingi fucked you against the earth like you owed him your life. The wet slaps echoed off the trees, his own snarls of delight flowing straight to your ears, the smile on his face nothing short of wicked.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, wiping the back of them against your cheek, smearing your own saliva across your flushed face.
“S-so fucking filthy..” he groaned, slapping your cheek, a gentle burn settling into your soft skin. He gripped your jaw, squishing your cheeks so your lips puckered. So sweet looking. He landed a second slap against your other cheek before sliding his palm across your jaw and finding its home around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your peripherals go dark.
Your eyes rolled, every thrust of his hips scraping your back against the rough ground. You were covered in bruises and scratches, and you looked beautiful. Littered in purple and red, the moon casts a white glow on your sensitive flesh as Mingi drives his cock into you over and over and over at a pace so maddening you swore he was in your ribcage.
Mingi felt you squeeze around him, and he knew you were cumming again. You weren’t even able to register yourself cumming, the whole time it had just been pure blinding pleasure that was making it hard for you to even realize what was happening to your body, you were feeling so good it was like one, impossibly long orgasm.
“Oh, beautiful…” Mingi drawled, slowing his hips just to roughly thrust up into you once, twice, and you were cumming again already.
“You can’t stop cumming, can you? Like it when I fuck you like you’re mine? When I take what I want from you?” Mingi only relished in the fact that you were too cockdrunk to even answer him, giving you just one moment of peace before he sped up his hips again, fucking into your, snug, wet cunt so hard your thighs were shaking like you had just run a marathon.
“Of course you do, baby..” he growled, answering for you, his hand sliding down to land a harsh slap against your clit. “You like it when you don’t have to use your stupid little brain, so I can use your pretty body and fuck you like my personal doll. You aren’t human to me, slut.”
Mingi felt himself getting close, and your broken moans and helpless cries only spurred him on further, as you lost your wits to each other.
“I’m gonna fuck you full of me, pretty baby.” he leaned down and swallowed your lips in a hungry kiss, biting your tongue and moaning when the sweet taste of your blood filled his mouth.
“Gonna cum in this pussy over…” he punctuated each word with a deep, heavy thrust. “Over.. and over.. And over again- shit… til you pass out, and I’ll use you while you sleep, j-just to fuck you back awake.” His own voice was raw and broken, and you only moaned louder at his gruesome promises. To use your body until you broke.
You were cumming again, and this time your vision blacked. You were sure you were done for, but you were still awake, still kicking.
“Poor baby, you can take it. You were made for this. You were made to take me.” He stilled his hips for a brief second, moaning deeply into your mouth, his tongue sliding over yours as his cum filled you up. He held himself inside of you, grinding in you deep to make sure his cum was fucked into you so it wouldn’t spill out.
But he was only still for a second, before he was panting, ripping his mouth from yours and latching his teeth onto your collarbones, fucking his cum back into you, grinning like a madman.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. ‘S all you’re good for slut.” He whined, his hips relentless against you as the cycle started all over again, the rain never letting up, his cock fucking into you like you were built to withstand centuries of use.
“It’s all you’re fucking good for, it's all you’ll ever be.”
Your brain was hazy, Mingi making no move to give you any breaks any time soon. You were his little project, to mold and shape and use until you break. To fuck until your belly swelled and your head emptied.
from the moment you showed up, a last-minute addition to the group just before debut, you were seonghwa’s baby. but you’re not that terrified little fawn anymore—and his feelings for you are far from just protective. by request.
PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! this is among the nastiest things i’ve ever written. massive, impossible-to-overstate corruption kink, innocence kink, innocent virgin reader, power imbalance. seonghwa is a creep—implications of non-consensual voyeurism, self-hatred, unhealthy behaviour & attitudes towards you. heavy dubcon—you’re essentially pressured into doing anal. you consent, but you have to be convinced. seonghwa is mean, condescending and manipulative—he uses and abuses the trust you have in him and the care he’s taken of you in order to pressure you into giving him what he wants. please read at your own risk. hate is blocked—i am not your babysitter and you are not a baby. it’s your responsibility to read and consume content that you are comfortable with.
other warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, deepthroating, anal, dom/sub, mentions of punishment, mean dom hwa, degradation & praise, slight objectification and infantilisation.
words: 8.4k
You were a later addition—practically last minute. Something to make them stand out, they said; something to make people talk.
Ironically enough, talk is one thing you never seemed to do. You seemed to be doing everything you could to make yourself invisible.
For the first few weeks, you hardly said a word. Your eyes were always wide, confused; your lips parted like everything you encountered was new and unfamiliar and terrifying. You kept your hands in fists and the fists in your pockets until someone told you to take them out, and you flinched, even jumped, at the slightest noise.
You were like a little fawn, stumbling around in a big, big world that you weren’t quite sure how to fit into.
But you’re not anymore—and you haven’t been in quite some time. Hell, you’re probably better at this, at the whole fame thing, than he is. You’re a star—his star—and you’ve blossomed so, so beautifully. Sometimes he wishes he was the only one who saw it.
You’re on the couch when he comes home, curled up in a big shirt that hangs off your frame—Mingi’s, he thinks it is—with your legs sticking out the bottom. You’re leaning against Wooyoung, curled into his side and watching intently as he fights his way through the game he’s been playing this week.
“Fuck!” He shouts. He flings himself back a little in frustration, colliding against the couch cushions with a groan and you snort.
“You’re not getting any better at this,” you giggle.
You hum, a little tiredly, then stand up. You stretch your arms out, yawning, and finally catch Seonghwa’s eye; you smile softly, head tilting. “Hi,” you greet, voice soft. “I’m going to bed.”
“So early?” He asks.
“Photoshoot tomorrow,” you reply. “They’re putting me in Elle.”
“Vanity Fair,” Wooyoung corrects. His eyes haven’t moved from the game, still narrowed in focus and you grunt, rolling your eyes.
“Vanity Fair,” you huff. You’re already walking away, your eyes already drooping a little. “I always mix those up. Anyway, night guys.”
“Night,” Wooyoung grunts.
“Goodnight,” Seonghwa says.
He watches as you retreat, down the hall towards your room and disappear through your door.
You’re late to dinner the next day; the photoshoot ran long, you say, but rules are rules which means two extra shots before the drinking games have even started.
That rule was Wooyoung’s idea, of course, and he shoves the little glasses of vodka in your face with glee. “Punishment time,” he grins.
“Seriously,” you huff. “It was work.”
“Drink up.”
“Hongjoong,” you whine.
He raises an eyebrow, faintly amused. “Yeah, baby?” He asks.
“Wooyoung can’t force me to drink,” you say. “Tell him.”
“Wooyoung, you can’t force her to drink.” The sternness in his voice is transparently fake and it makes you snort, rolling your eyes.
“Whatever.” You grab the glasses and down them one by one. Wooyoung whistles. “She’s getting better at drinking.”
“She’s growing up,” Jongho shrugs. He takes a shot of his own before the words can settle.
Seonghwa is silent. Just sits there with his arm around your shoulders, watching you laugh and chat with the others. Tightening his grip a little when Wooyoung gets too close.
He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him lately. He was never like this before—never saw you as anything more than a best friend, a sister.
God, he feels like a pervert for wanting you like this. He practically raised you. You all raised each other, sure, but you were always his baby much more than the others.
“Seonghwa,” Mingi finally says. “What’s up, man? You’re quiet.”
He just shrugs; takes another bite of chicken and washes it down quickly. “Just a quiet day, I guess.”
Hongjoong smiles understandingly at him. It’s much more than he deserves.
You end up back at the house, a little tipsier than you’d intended but still decently sober. The circle you’ve all formed on the floor was accidental, everyone just flopping down on a different spot; it’s no surprise to him, really, given the mood of the group tonight, that a drinking game ensues.
Never have I ever—not their usual one, but certainly interesting. Seonghwa watches quietly, content to observe; he learns a little more about Mingi’s dating history and a lot more than he’d like about Wooyoung’s sexual preferences, but nothing too unusual for them.
Nothing good happens when you drink, Seonghwa’s mother used to say. He goes back and forth on it sometimes.
“Alright, alright.” Jongho is flushed, giggly, but still aware enough to take his turn. “Never have I ever jerked off while another member was in the same room.”
“Like when they didn’t know?” Mingi asks.
“Will that change your answer?”
“It might.”
Jongho rolls his eyes. “Okay. Whether they knew or not.”
Mingi drinks. So does Hongjoong, surprisingly.
Luckily for Seonghwa, he’s not really playing anyway.
You end up in something of a battle with Wooyoung, shooting out questions you already know the answer to just to air each other out; embarrass each other as much as possible.
Right when you think you’ve got him, Wooyoung gets a look on his face like he’s about to say something that can never be taken back.
“Never…” His eyes lock on yours. You raise an eyebrow, challenging. He smiles. “Never have I ever gone down on someone.”
Your smile drops, stumped, and his widens into a grin. Seonghwa curls his shirt tight around his hands.
“Drink up, guys,” Yunho says.
They do.
You don’t.
If Seonghwa clenches his fists any tighter he’s going to break a bone.
“Hm…” It’s San’s turn now; he’s flushed and sweating and completely susceptible to Wooyoung’s whims right now; Seonghwa should have guessed what he was going to say the moment Wooyoung leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Never have I ever…seen a cock? Or a pussy.”
“And it can’t be your own!” Wooyoung adds loudly; San nods, expression serious.
The others drink. You still hold back.
Seonghwa is dizzy. He has to be hallucinating right now. Or you have to be lying.
Yeah, his mother was right. He’ll never doubt her again.
Whatever’s going on in his head must be playing out on his face, too; Hongjoong glances at him concernedly then speaks firmly, with finality. “Alright, guys,” he says. “I think that’s enough. This is getting inappropriate.”
Protests ring out, of course. “Come on,” Wooyoung shouts. “We’re grown. We can talk about sex.”
“That’s not what you were doing,” Seonghwa says sharply, suddenly talkative. His eyes are narrowed in a way that seems to make Wooyoung shrink back a little on instinct. “You were asking questions you knew she couldn’t answer just to make fun of her. You were singling her out, both of you.”
The two have the decency to look a little ashamed, at least, but their eyes still gleam with mischief and something Seonghwa wants positively nothing to do with. He turns to you, curled into Yunho’s side; your eyes are drooping, face flushed and you look a little overwhelmed. Yunho is running his hand up and down your arm the way he’s always done when things are getting too much for you; when you’re starting to drift away from the world and they have to bring you back.
“Come on,” Seonghwa says, just loud enough to get your attention; you look up, lips parted a little and smile softly at him. It takes everything in him not to beam—or to yank you towards him and take you right here. Which he’d never do, of course, but still. “You’re falling asleep, honey, let’s get you to bed.”
You nod. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Sleepy.”
“I’ll take her,” Yunho says quietly.
The sharpness in Seonghwa’s voice takes even him by surprise. “No. Give her to me.”
Yunho’s eyebrow lifts, confused. You roll your eyes and wriggle out of his grip. “Or I can walk,” you suggest.
Jongho giggles from somewhere behind him. Seonghwa blinks. “Right.” Obviously.
“Come with me though,” you say. “In case I…stumble or something.”
Seonghwa takes your hand and walks you out of the room before he can think too much about it.
It’s about halfway up the stairs when he realises you’re sniffling; softly with your head bowed like you’re trying to hide it from him. His heart drops a little; he grabs your chin and tilts it upwards and the second thing he notices are the streaks of tears staining your cheeks.
The first, of course, is your soft, plush lips, pushed out and quivering like a puppy.
His heart stops for a moment—not just because you’re upset, but because you look so, so cute when you cry. So precious.
“Oh baby,” he coos. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I don’t—” You pause, hiccuping, vision bleary. “I just…I feel embarrassed, Hwa, and I made you uncomfortable and—”
“Woah.” He grips your shoulders firmly, unyieldingly. Forcing your eyes on him. “Look at me. You didn’t make me uncomfortable. You didn’t do anything wrong. Stupid game just got out of hand, yeah?”
You blink slowly. Almost dumbly. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Let’s just get you to your room, alright?” He smiles. “You’ll feel better when you’re in your pyjamas.”
He’s right, of course; by the time you’re changed and tucked in the tears have stopped and only your small sniffles and blotchy cheeks give you away.
He knows how you get into your head sometimes; how you take something tiny and feed it until it blooms into something too heavy to hold on your own.
That’s why he’s here. To take it from you and share the weight.
He’d take every burden on earth from you if he could.
“Are you still feeling embarrassed?” He asks. He’d really like to fill the silence right about now.
“Yeah, a little,” you admit. “Wooyoung and San— they’re not…”
“I know,” he nods. “I’m sorry about them, baby. They don’t know how to control themselves. Especially not when they’re drinking.”
“No, it—” you hiccup softly, cutting yourself off halfway through your sentence and you lose your train of thought for a moment; he doesn’t rush you, though—patient as he always is. You clear your throat. “It’s fine, Hwa, I— I shouldn’t have answered.”
“They shouldn’t have asked. That game was stupid and they were being cruel. Don’t worry your little head about it.”
You nod, not really believing him, but on some more logical level you know it’s only because you’ve been drinking that you’re even upset at all, so you try to let it rest for now. When you wake up tomorrow you might not even remember this.
It’s quiet for a moment. Seonghwa’s stare feels heavier, more piercing than before. His voice is quiet, a little stunned. “You’ve really never sucked cock, huh?”
“Um.” You feel the heat flooding your cheeks and you cast your eyes downwards. As though you’re ashamed, for some reason. “Yeah, I haven’t.”
“Never even touched one.” He looks like he can’t believe it, doesn’t know if he should but so desperately wants to; like he’s stunned and relieved and delighted all at once.
What you’re not sure of is why he even cares; why your sexual experience even matters to him.
Or why the way he’s staring at you makes you feel so…small.
“Um.” You have nothing to say, really, but the weight of his gaze, of the silence and the tension he’s let build as he stares you down, was becoming too much to bear. “Is it bad?”
“That you haven’t sucked cock?” He asks. You nod. His smile is a little kinder now; fonder like it’s always been. But not quite. “No, baby,” he says. “It’s good, actually.”
You don’t know why, really—but it doesn’t feel like it’s good. The way he’d asked you so surprised, the way he’d talked about it like it’s something you should have done already—you feel a little stupid. Childish. Like he’s trying not to laugh at you.
“I don’t…”
He watches you closely for a second. You feel scrutinised. The words are tumbling from his mouth before either of you can stop them.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs. His voice is quiet; careful. “Do you want to?”
It’s silent for a moment; thick and heavy and stunned—then he gasps, eyes widening, like he’s woken up from a trance.
“Fuck,” he curses. He stands up, sharp and sudden like he’s touched something hot and scalding and is fleeing from the burn.
He stares at you in horror like the burn’s followed him and seared into his skin.
“Baby, I’m sorry. That was so inappropriate. Forget I said that, okay? Just go to sleep.”
“Seonghwa, I—”
“I said go to sleep.” His voice is firm, hardened at the edges and it feels like ice against your skin. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he’s leaving your room so hurriedly it feels like fleeing.
The next day is weird. Seonghwa avoids eye contact all through breakfast; you feel him staring at you, see it from the corner of your eye, but when you try to meet his gaze he quickly looks somewhere else. He eats quicker than usual, washes up quieter than usual, and rushes from the table the moment he’s done.
Mingi watches him flee with raised eyebrows. “What’s going on with him?”
You shrug. Somehow it feels like you’re the last person Seonghwa would ever tell.
It bothers you a little for the rest of the day; not quite on your mind but certainly not off of it. Just lingering somewhere in the middle—the confusion, the worry, the wondering if and how this can be fixed.
That’s not your only problem, either. Another thing you’ve noticed today is that you’re so, so horny. More than you’ve ever been. You can’t stop thinking about what Seonghwa had said; the way he’d looked at you, almost trance-like in the brief moment before he snapped out of it.
You’re never felt so… small. So scrutinised. So electric.
You usually don’t touch yourself very often. Once a week, maybe, but often not even that. You tend to go through phases of it; back and forth between insatiable and practically impotent.
Recently, you’d thought, you’d been more like impotent. Yet by the time you finally manage to break away from the others and sneak up to bed you’re practically buzzing, a vibration under your skin you can’t turn off or satiate. Hell, the moment you open the door and see your bed you all but lunge at it, flinging yourself towards it with frantic, desperate hands in your pants.
You’re so desperate you don’t even think to lock the door behind you.
You settle on your back, hand tucked into your panties, playing with your clit and teasing your hole. You’re not doing much, but when you’re this pent up you don’t need much. Soon enough you’re biting your other hand to keep yourself quiet, a failed attempt to quell the moans and cries that ring out despite your efforts, and you’ve squirmed your shorts and panties halfway down your thighs. Your thin blanket is tangled around your knees and your eyes are closed—head thrown back against the pillow.
You don’t hear the footsteps out in the hall—nor the turning of the handle and the door creeping open.
The first thing you hear is Seonghwa’s voice, low and urgent.
“Sweetheart, are you—fuck.”
Your eyes snap open. Seonghwa is standing in the doorway, hand still curled around the handle, staring open mouthed and stunned at you—at your pussy, wet and exposed and stuffed full of your fingers.
You shriek, diving under the covers and trying desperately to cover yourself but you know it’s too late—you know he’s seen it all. Your pussy, your wetness, your fingers disappearing into the warmth. Your legs shaking and your mouth hanging open with pleasure.
He’s seen all of it. You’ve never felt more mortified.
But when you look up again, finally meeting his eyes, your face burning with shame—he doesn’t look bothered at all. Not embarrassed, not uncomfortable—completely neutral. Unaffected. It somehow makes you feel even more humiliated.
“Hwa,” you groan. “Fuck, why didn’t you—”
“Why didn’t I knock?” His voice is calm and level as he cuts you off and you nod miserably. “Because I’ve never heard you cry out like that, baby. I thought you were getting hurt.”
You pause. “Hurt?”
His lips stretch into a soft smile; it’s warm, gentle, familiar but the tension in the air is thick and unchanging and completely new. Heavier than anything you’ve felt before. “You sounded like you were in pain, sweetheart. I had to make sure you’re alright, didn’t I? Can’t have my little girl getting hurt.”
My little girl. The whimper you let out takes you both by surprise.
It’s not like he’s never called you that; he always has, in fact, since the first days as trainees when he’d fret and worry over your every movement, always paranoid you were going to get hurt somehow. It’s just another expression of his love for you, of the protectiveness and the responsibility he’s always felt for you.
So why, now, does it sound so different?
My little girl. With the way he’s looking at you now, it feels more like a claim than an endearment.
You watch in shameful silence as his gaze moves across your covered body; the thin sheet only barely separating him from your nakedness. He takes another step inside, pulling the door closed behind him. The soft click of the lock might somehow be the loudest sound you’ve heard in your life.
And maybe it’s just because he’s so often next to Yunho and Mingi, or because you already feel so small and ashamed and scrutinised in his presence right now—but Seonghwa has never, in all the time you’ve known him, seemed so imposing. So large and enveloping and dwarfing you completely.
He’s also, somehow, never looked so attractive. His veins are pulsing, jaw clenched and there’s a look in his eyes that sparks something deep within you; something unknown and forbidden and tantalising.
He comes to sit next to you, on the edge of the sheet you’re still clutching to the top of your chest like a shield. Up close now, he looks as gentle as ever, the intensity of before dissipating almost entirely.
Still lingering, though. Just under the surface.
“Move the sheet,” he says softly. “Show me what you were doing.”
You blank; whatever you thought he was going to say, it certainly wasn’t that—certainly not so directly, either. You curl the sheets tighter around your fists, frozen in place and he smiles, all fondness. “You don’t need to hide from me, bunny.”
Fuck. Bunny? “I…”
“Hm?”
You pause, hesitating, then whimper before you can help it. You just feel so small now—so helpless and vulnerable. “Hwa…”
“I just want to help you, baby,” he coos. “I want to make you feel better. Don’t you trust me?”
Of course you do. You trust Seonghwa implicitly—you’d trust with your life without second thought?
But this? Would you—do you trust him with this?
Only when he starts to move do you realise he wasn’t actually asking for your permission.
“Here, now.” He pulls the sheet down slowly, exposing your skin inch by inch; a careful, gentle pace, like you’re a tiny creature he’s trying not to spook. “Let me have a look, yeah? I can help you make it better.”
“How?”
“I know how the body works,” he says. “I know how pleasure works. How to find it. Have you ever made yourself cum?”
You blink slowly. “No.”
“Of course you haven’t.” He smiles, gaze flickering up to you; by now he’s pulled the blanket back down to where it was, your pussy bare again, but with him talking to you like that you hadn’t even noticed. Huh.
“Do you want me to help you?”
“You really think you can?”
“I know I can,” he says. “I’m grown enough to make a girl feel good. Are you grown enough to take it?”
“Of course,” you nod.
“Take these off, then,” he fingers at the band of your panties, bunched around your thighs. “You don’t need them. It’s easier if you’re bare.”
“Okay.” You slide them down and off, flushing a little. He watches silently as you obey his instruction.
“Good,” he says. “Now spread your legs.”
You do. Already your thighs are sticky, a string of your juices sticking between them when they separate. Seonghwa’s breath hitches.
“Show me how you were doing it,” he says, a little raspy. “How you please yourself.”
You do it like you were doing it before; two fingers stuffed inside, pushing in and out while your thumb rubs at your clit. He watches you for a moment, maybe a few, enough to get a feel for it, then his lips curl.
“Oh sweetheart.” The words are purred; predatory and his tongue pokes against his cheek like he’s trying to restrain himself. “You have no idea, do you?”
“I…”
“Take your fingers out.”
You do. He sighs. “You’re helpless, baby,” he chuckles. “Stuffing your cunt, fucking it back and forth like you’re trying to dilate yourself or something. What are you doing touching yourself like that, hm? So dirty.”
“Dirty?” You repeat.
“That’s not how a good girl fucks herself,” he says. “Here, I’ll teach you.”
You know you’re well past the point of no return by now, but something about those words has your heart dropping like he’s just pulled out a gun and told you to fire. “What?” You squeak. “Teach me?”
“Yes, teach you. Will you let me?”
It takes you an embarrassingly short amount of time to consider it. Not much thinking you can do right now anyway, though, when the only word your brain can string together enough to be decipherable is Seonghwa.
“Yeah,” you breathe. “I’ll let you.”
You sort of expect him to start finger fucking you outright—instead, before he even touches you there, you find yourself on your knees on your bedroom floor, staring up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
The first thing you needed to learn, apparently, is how to make him feel good. Good girls earn their pleasure, he says.
“Have you thought about sucking dick before?” He asks. “Read anything about it?”
You shake your head.
“Didn’t think so.” He laughs a little, light. “Okay, you start with the belt.”
“The belt?”
He lifts the bottom of his t-shirt up a little, enough to get a peek of black leather. “Here,” he says quietly. “Put your hands on my belt, baby, that’s it. See the buckle?”
It takes you a moment to realise he’s asking you a question now; he nudges your cheek with his finger, neither tender nor chiding and you stare confusedly at him for a second before your brain finally catches up. “Yes,” you whisper. “I— I see it, Hwa.”
“Good girl. Do you think you can undo it for me?”
”Undo?” Your lips are parted slightly; a tiny ‘o’ shape that would be just big enough for him to slip a finger in between them and you’re a delectable sight if he’s ever seen one.
He has other intentions for you now, though. He’ll have time to savour you later.
“Yes,” he smiles. “Don’t you want my cock, honey?”
Oh. Right. “Yeah.”
“Take it out, then,” he says. “Don’t keep me waiting.” There’s a firmer edge to his voice now, like when you’re acting up at practice or a schedule and he has to bring you to heel. On instinct you almost bow your head like you’re being scolded but you catch yourself before you do—you don’t need to do that. You haven’t been bad; the opposite, actually—you’re being good. Seonghwa is teaching you to be good.
You reach for his belt with shaking hands and your nerves are multiplying by the second as you carefully undo the buckle and pull it open. You look up at him again with wide eyes; a vision of innocence and the sight makes him gulp. He doesn’t know how or why he held back for so long.
But he’s sure as hell not going to do that now.
“Unzip my pants,” he grunts. “Pull my cock out, honey. Don’t run from it.”
You obey; you fumble with the button for a moment, then comes the zip, then his underwear, dark gray and tight and already stained with precum.
His dick is thick and long and heavy, half-hard and leaking from the angry red tip. “Hold it,” he grunts. “Put your hands on it.”
“Okay,” you squeak; nerves are seeping into your voice already but it only seems to make him harder. You wrap your fist around it, holding it tight and still; you’re not sure if you’re meant to move it, or stroke it, but he seems satisfied with this. With the sight of you on your knees, hands on his dick and looking at it like it’s the scariest thing you’ve seen in your life.
His eyes are wide; pupils blown. He looks crazed.
“Oh wow,” he breathes. “Look at my cock in your little hands, baby. Looks so big, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you whimper. It does. He groans, loud and affected and his dick pulses in your palm.
“Gonna love fitting it in you, baby,” he says. “You’re gonna feel so full. Not yet, though.”
You blink. “Not yet?”
“No,” he smiles. “You haven’t earned it yet, have you?”
Earned it. You have to earn it? You frown, brows creasing and he clicks his tongue. “You really know nothing, do you?” He sighs. He grabs your jaw, gentle but firm, tilting your head upwards a little more. “Little girls have to earn their dick, baby. It’s a privilege. You need to show me you can be good for me. Then maybe I’ll see fit to give it to you.”
Oh. That makes sense. Be good for him—you can be good for him. You always are. You nod, a little dazedly. “Okay, Hwa.”
“Such a good girl,” he smiles. “I raised you well. Can you try touching it a little, sweetheart?”
“I am.”
“Not like that,” he laughs. “Move your hand a little, up and down. Squeeze it.”
“Oh,” you say. “I…okay. I can try.”
“Good. You need to get used to playing with cock, baby.”
You move slowly, up and down his shaft with a little bit of pressure. It seems to work; he makes a noise of pleasure, eyes closing for a moment before he gets ahold of himself and they’re back on you; watching you, monitoring you like a teacher and student.
Which you are, in a way. He’s definitely teaching you something.
“That’s it,” he says. ”Get used to touching it. To tasting it, too. Give it a lick, love, right around the tip.”
The nice thing about Seonghwa is that he is, has always been, exceptionally clean. You’ve rarely seen him dirty; even when he’s sweating and exhausted after a concert, he always smells…well. He always smells clean. He smells…Seonghwa.
His cock is no different; the skin is tasteless, just the soft scent of his body wash and the salty precum leaking from the tip. It’s hot on your tongue, not a taste you’ve ever experienced before, but it's not…bad, per se. It just tastes like him. Seonghwa, with a little bit of a bite.
“You like it?” He coos. “Tastes good, baby? It’s just for you.”
“Yeah,” you mumble. “Mmf…”
He laughs, stroking your hair softly; tenderly. God you’re pretty. Such a perfect picture of innocence. “There’s a good girl,” he smiles. “Take it in now. Put your mouth on it properly, that’s it.”
When you reach the base, his tip pressing into your throat enough to sting, he cups the back of your head with just enough strength to hold you there. You choke, eyes welling, and he grunts and pushes deeper. “Take it,” he hisses. “All the fucking way.”
You don’t need to suck him for too long—just the image of you down there, on your knees for him, your mouth stuffed full and struggling to accommodate you as you gag and splutter around his cock is enough to have him on the edge of breaking.
You’re so useless. So helpless. You look so dumb and— and innocent. Like everything he’s spent the last few months trying to convince himself he didn’t desire.
“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs. “You look empty.”
You whine, muffled around him, and he groans. “Shit, I won’t last like this,” he mutters. “Okay, fuck.”
He pulls out quickly, without warning; you stare up at him confused and he laughs, poking at your cheek. “Little baby,” he smiles. “C’mon, on the bed. I’ve got you.”
He helps you up, practically lifting you over to the bed and lying you down on it. He pulls your legs apart, the skin already sticky and glistening, and crawls between them. Your pussy is dripping; trails of your wetness cascading down your thighs. He has to close his eyes and take a long, deep breath to stop himself from cumming just at the sight of it.
He starts with a thumb on your clit. A little pressure, then a little more. You’re wet enough already that he can slip two fingers into your hole outright; your walls are tight around him, almost clinging as he starts to move in and out.
“You do it like this,” he says. “Tease your clit and fuck your cunt at the same time. But…” He pulls his fingers out, again without warning, and shuffles closer, rubbing his tip against your entrance. You gasp, tensing, and he grips your hip with his other hand.
“You don’t need to know how to do it,” he continues. “Not when I’m here. You don't need pleasure from anyone except me.”
He doesn’t wait for your response; just angles his tip with your hole and starts to slowly push in. You cry out, legs tensing, but your pussy is sucking him in so eagerly you’d think you were the one who’d pushed for this.
“I can feel how desperate you are,” he grunts. “Tiny virgin hole and it’s still sucking me in so easily. You’re so easy for me, aren’t you baby?”
You blink. “What?” You ask. “Easy?”
“Yeah,” he coos. “You want this even more than I do. You’ve been begging for this.”
He doesn’t know how long it takes for him to get all the way in; by the time he bottoms out your already small, squeaked responses have devolved into incoherent babble; pretty little noises that feel like honey in his ears.
Seonghwa is very far from a virgin—but this feels like losing himself all over again. And when he starts to move the thrusts are as desperate and uncontrolled and sloppy as if he were completely inexperienced.
You make him feel like it, though; the way you feel around him and the way you’re looking at him as he fucks you open is something he’s never experienced. It makes all the other times he’s sunk himself into a warm, wet cunt feel as exciting as fucking his fist alone in his room like a teenager.
He feels like he’s lost in it, time pausing and hurrying simultaneously—he’s not really aware of anything but the feeling of your cunt and the softness of your skin until you sniffle loudly, whining, your hands tugging at his undone belt and trying to get his attention.
“H-Hwa,” you whimper. He hums in acknowledgment, glancing up at your tear-streaked face and you sniffle again, legs tensing. “It hurts.”
“It hurts?” He repeats. “How, baby?”
“Feels— ah, feels tired now. My— my thing is.” Even as you sob between each word he doesn’t stop fucking you; he hits your spot halfway through the sentence, making you cry out and his breath hitches at the sound. “Feels too…too full.”
“Too full?”
“My hole,” you squeak. “Hole hurts.”
His face softens, pace slowing down. “Oh darling. You should’ve told me, you know Hwa would never hurt his little girl. Why don’t we do something different, hm?”
“Different?”
“Yes, honey. We don’t wanna break that little pussy of yours, do we? You’re still learning, gotta be careful with you.”
“Right,” you mumble. “Don’t wanna break it.”
“Mhm. So why don’t we give it a rest and play with your other hole?”
”My other hole,” you repeat. He nods, raising an eyebrow; you swallow. Nerves flutter in your stomach, creeping up the bottom of your spine. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He asks. His hand finds your thigh and wraps around it tightly; enough to make you notice without cutting off the blood. “What don’t you know?”
“If I want that.”
“Don’t be silly,” he grins, “of course you want that. You said you wanted me to take care of you; this is how I’m going to do it.”
There’s no give in his voice; no room for discussion in his words. Still he sees the nerves and the hesitation on your face, the flicker of doubt in your eyes, and wants to take it away. He only wants pleasure on your face. Not anxiety, not uncertainty—just ecstasy.
If you can accept it, accept him, he can give you everything.
He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. He feels your body tense beneath him like you’re scared you’ve disappointed him and he resists the urge to smile. “I told you I’d take care of you,” he says. He pushes a strand of sweat-soaked hair out of your face, the touch tender and feather-light compared to the firm, punishing grip his other hand maintains on your thigh. “Haven’t I always done that? You’ve always looked up to me, baby, always trusted me to know what’s best for you.”
It’s true. From the moment you joined the company, alone in a foreign country without your parents, Seonghwa took you under his wing; they all did, really, but it was him in particular that seemed to view it as a personal responsibility. And he’s never led you wrong—so why would he start now?
“C’mon, honey,” he mumbles. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is barely a whisper but the answer is immediate; instinctual and the proud smile that stretches over his face fills you with warmth. He must see the nerves on yours, the tension in your small frame as he hovers over you because he cups your cheek in his hand; a means of silent reassurance he’s used on you since your trainee days. Never like this, though.
“It’s for your own good, baby,” he says. His voice is soft and gentle now; condescending, almost—like he’s talking to a child or a pet rather than his own fully grown group member. “Little girls need to learn to take it in all their holes. Especially my little girl. You do want to be mine, don’t you?”
You do. You really, really do. But this… Can you do this?
He nudges his head a little closer to yours, enough to feel his breath against your hot, flushed skin and his voice has dropped to barely even a whisper. “C’mon, trust me. I know you can do it.”
He sees the hesitation on your face as clearly as the desire in your eyes. You’re on the edge now, he can feel it; so is he. It’s up to you which of you snaps first.
He sighs, shaking his head like you’ve disappointed him.
“Do you not want to be a good girl?” There’s a stern, almost scolding undertone to his voice now that makes your breath stutter. “A good girl would listen to her elder, no? She’d give him what he wants, what he decides she needs. Are you a good girl or not?”
“I am.” Just the implication makes you whine unconsciously—he’s always called you that, right from the very first time you joined their practice sessions and nailed a dance move on the first go. It sounds so earnest and sweet from his mouth that you’ve come to anticipate and cling to it like a lifeline—and the idea of going without it feels like a condemnation of the worst kind. “I’m a good girl, Hwa, I am.”
“Then you should listen to Hwa, baby. You know he knows what’s best for you, don’t you? He’d never hurt you.”
“I know.” You nod. “I just…”
He hums, noncommittal and his voice softens for a moment. “I gave you a safeword, bunny. So either use it or turn over.”
Your head is a mess of thoughts and wants and anxiety but there’s one thing you know for certain—you don’t want to use your safeword. You want to make Hwa happy, to prove to him you’re a good girl who can follow his directions. And…well, you really, really want him in your ass now, however shameful or uncomfortable it may be. In a couple of minutes the thought of it has blossomed from the strange and wrong and terrifying idea it once was to something thrilling and tantalising. You want him to take and possess you in every way possible; to leave no part of your body untouched and vulnerable to be claimed by someone else. No, it has to be him. His.
He’s quiet for a second, watching the gears in your head spin; the puffing of your wet lips into that little pout of yours that you’ve used on him since you were trainees. “Poor little thing,” he coos. “You’re so repressed you can’t even admit what you want. Have to be forced, huh?”
You can’t even bring yourself to nod but the heat that floods your cheeks says everything. You’re many things, but apparently subtle is not one of them and Seonghwa of all people can read you like an open book. “Mhm,” he smiles. “Don’t worry, honey, you’ll get what you need, I’ll make you take it. Hold still, precious.”
He pulls out suddenly and the loss is unexpected and profound; without the heavy thrusts he’d been delivering you’d honestly forgotten he was still inside you until he wasn’t, and the emptiness makes your eyes well up with desperate tears. He just smiles softly, cooing and hushing you as he turns you over onto your front.
The feeling of his hand running down your back makes you shiver, skin tingling in anticipation and he chuckles deeply, darkly. “Eager, huh?” He whispers. “I knew you wanted it. Let’s see those little holes, yeah?”
He doesn’t wait for your response before pulling your cheeks apart to expose you fully to him and he makes a noise of satisfaction, running his finger gently across the sensitive skin; when it grazes over your hole you jump a little, squeaking in surprise and he hums, sounding pleased. “So sensitive,” he mumbles. “Have you ever played with this hole before?”
“No.”
His breath is sucked in, caught briefly in his chest before he clears his throat and the cool, mocking demeanour returns as he rubs at you lazily. “Course you haven’t,” he purrs. “That’d be dirty, wouldn’t it? You’d never do something so shameful.”
The finger leaves you for a second and you hear a quiet, wet pop sound before it returns, wetter now and easing its way inside. You grimace, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to the sensation but he’s gentle enough that it’s strange more than it’s painful. He begins to move his finger slowly, experimentally, noting the small reactions you have to each movement. “I’ll give you another now,” he mumbles. The second finger hurts a little more but it’s still bearable, and his soft voice as he encourages you allows you some distraction.
After the third finger, you feel him reaching over for something, fingers pulled out and then something large and wet and cold is pressing against you. You whine confusedly and he hushes you, patting your butt fondly. “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby,” he whispers. “I was generous and put some lube on my dick so it’s not as hard on your little virgin hole, but you gotta be brave for me, alright? It’s gonna hurt.”
You nod, burying your head in the pillow and curling the soft blanket around your clenched fists; a small outlet for the tension and intrusion filling you as he pushes himself in. “Good,” he says. “Almost there. Good baby.”
“Hwa,” you gasp. You clench your teeth, limbs taut as you try to withstand the painful intrusion. “Hwa, I don’t—”
“You’ve got it, baby,” he coos. “Such a good little girl letting me do this. So brave. Just hold on a little longer, it’ll feel good soon.”
“But—”
“No buts.” His voice is colder now; firm again. “Am I gonna have to pull out and spank you instead?”
You whine, shaking your head; you can do it, and as much as the thought of Seonghwa actually hurting you makes your stomach pulse for some reason, right now you just want to please him. “No, Hwa. I’ll be good.”
“That’s right,” he smiles. “You will. Just how I taught you to.
He goes slowly, pushing into you carefully. “Breathe,” he murmurs. “Deep breaths, nice and slow. I’m almost there.”
You feel the moment he does it; at the last stretch he grabs your waist and tugs you sharply backwards, your hips colliding with him; the sound of skin slapping together, your moaning and his somehow feels dirtier than what you’re actually doing.
“There we go,” he groans. “How does it feel, baby?”
“I…” You trail off, struggling to find the words because honestly you don’t know how it feels. It feels… stretched? It’s harder to take him in here than it ever was to take him in your pussy, and it still borders on painful even before he starts to move. But the pain as he does so is somehow pleasant—the feeling of being held under firm hands as he fucks you open; the satisfaction of knowing you’re doing well and being a good girl for him just like he told you to. He’s spitting filthy praises as his movements quicken and it pushes the pain to the back of your mind. You’re being good for him; taking it like a fucking champ. That’s what matters.
You feel the warmth of his body hovering over yours, wet lips kissing hungrily at the back of your neck and down your spine. He sucks a harsh bruise into your lower back, making you squirm and you feel his lips curling into a smile against your skin before he lifts himself back up to fuck you properly.
“Christ,” he grunts. A slender finger presses against your clit, just firm enough to be noticeable above the haze before both hands reach to spread your cheeks even further. “Look at you, baby,” he whispers. “Pretty little hole is clenching around my cock. You love it, don’t you?”
You try to get the words out but they’re caught in your throat. “I- I–”
His hand crashes down against your cheek before you can finish. “You love it,” he says, and he’s not asking anymore. “Stop lying to me. You love being my whore. Say it.”
“I love being your whore,” you whimper.
He hits you again in the same spot, harder this time and you cry out. “Louder,” he hisses.
You try to raise your voice, forcing the words out around the rawness in your throat that still feels stretched from the memory of his cock forced to the back of it. “I love being your whore,” you sob. “I love it Hwa, please.”
“Fuck,” he grunts. His hips buck, unsteady for a moment and the weight of his hands on your hips grows heavier. “Yeah, shit. My baby whore with my dick in her tight little asshole. You take it so fucking well, don’t you?”
“Have to,” you say. “Have to— have to do it.”
“That’s right,” he coos. “You don’t have a choice. I make the choices here. Say it.”
“You make the choices,” you cry. “Hwa— you choose. I don’t.”
“I’m gonna slut you out, little girl,” he growls. “I’m gonna train you to go dumb on this dick every fucking time. You want that?”
“I— yes— want.”
“Good,” he says. “Cause there’s no going back now. What I’m doing to you—you can’t get that back. Doesn’t matter what you do— you’ll never get it back.”
“Fuck,” you squeal. His hands snake around your waist to cup your tummy and he groans, hips bucking.
“I’m in here, baby,” he croons. “I’m all stuffed in your tummy here. Can’t believe you used to be so pure. Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner. We could’ve been having so much fun. You could be so well trained by now.”
“I can,” you whine. Your head is a mess now, only sensation, but what little thoughts you do have revolve entirely around pleasing Seonghwa; being good for Seonghwa; Seonghwa.
“I know,” he smiles. “You will, baby. You’re gonna be so good for me, and I’m gonna take care of you. All the care you need.”
“Please.”
Fuck. God. He can’t even see your face right now and yet he knows exactly what it looks like—pictures the glazed, empty eyes, your parted lips, your mouth open a little like you’ve forgotten how to close it. Fucked out, is what you look like. You sound like it, too—those little whimpers turned to gasps and screams then back again as he fucks you open; the desperate noises and slurring, garbled words he scarcely understands.
It’s like he’s fucked your brain right out of your head. Maybe it fell out of your stretched, open asshole. He hopes it did.
Fuck, Seonghwa has never felt more powerful than he does now. Even during shows, he's never felt adrenaline like this. Never felt a rush or a high like this.
It’s a wonder he didn’t cum the moment he pushed himself past your tight rim. If he had even a little less self control his seed would be dripping out of your hole and onto the sheets already by now.
“You know how helpless you look right now?” He asks. “You look so small and weak underneath me. Fuck, you know how many creeps out there would jump at an innocent thing like you? They’d do anything for the chance to sink their claws into you like this.”
Creeps like me, he thinks. Not just shame but arousal, a sick kind of thrill, crawls through him at the realisation that right now, like this, Seonghwa is everything he’s spent years warning you about.
Just the way your asshole is squeezing his dick like you’re trying to suck the life out of him is enough to make it feel worth it. Worth throwing away reason and rationale and morality if it means he can have you like this.
He grunts, pushing deeper and making you squeal. “I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he gruffs. You’ve practically gone limp beneath him, but he can tell from your little noises, and the reactions of your body to each thrust, that you’re still awake. Good—he’s not done with you yet. “It’s not safe for a pretty thing like you to still be so naive. Need to know what men want from you, what they think of you.”
“Ah,” you grunt. Your legs are shaking now, thighs clenching and unclenching like your body is buckling under the weight of pleasure. You look a mess—you look broken. “Seonghw—ngh.”
“I know,” he huffs. “I know it feels good. Feels a lot. I’m just—fuck—I’m just showing you how the world works, baby. M’just doing my job. You’re taking it so well, letting me use you like this. You love it?”
“Love it,” you say. Your voice is muffled now, like you’ve bitten down on the pillow; looking for release, maybe, or an outlet.
“I know you do.”
He speeds up, tightening his grip on you and pushing deeper, making you choke, pressing your head into the pillow. He puts his hand on the back of your head to push you down against it harder.
“You should be thanking me,” he says. “Thank me for fucking your ass, honey. Thank me for doing the right thing and turning you into my whore before someone else can.”
“Thank you.” Your voice is hollow and hoarse; high-pitched, desperate, spent. “Thank you, Hwa, for— for making me your whore. For protecting me.”
Your voice breaks, cracks on the final word.
For a moment, just a moment, Seonghwa swears he exists outside of his body.
His eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed, and he sees you—behind his eyes, on your knees, staring up at him. Naked, legs spread, a leather collar tight on your neck atop bruised skin—red, purple marks from beneath your chin to the top of your collarbones.
Marks he put there. He knows that from the way you look at him with a flicker of fear in your eyes. Fear and adoration. Worship and possession—like he’s your saviour and your desecrator all at once.
There’s a loud, sharp cry that sounds like you, but your mouth is closed. You wince, and he watches the bruised skin of your neck pulsing when you swallow.
Fuck. Is he really so high on you he’s having visions of all the fucked up things he wants to do to you?
He’s already close—the idea of having you collared and bruised at his hands is about to send him over the edge.
His body seems to work of its own accord—in a split second he pulls out and turns you over onto your back, so he can look right into your eyes as he grabs your face and tugs it forwards.
He comes undone in all of a second. Ropes of cum land on your face, your chest, in your open mouth. He’s not aiming anywhere in particular—he just wants to see you covered.
To see you defiled.
It feels like the final step in a plan he didn’t know he’d been writing. There’s something almost ritualistic about it.
You’re smiling, grinning, like you’re high on the ecstasy of it and never want to come down.
A single tear rolls down your face. He catches it on his tongue at the bottom of your chin.
PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! this contains heavy ddlg. sanhwa act like your dads and treat you like their baby—infantilisation and dumbification are heavy themes. there are sexual elements to this which could be read as ageplay, but i wouldn’t say you specifically act like a child—just very ditzy and innocent and sweet for them. please be warned that it could read that way though! this is more about the ‘dd’ than the ‘lg’—their caring and paternal relationship with you, both the sexual and non-sexual sides. you’re actively infantilised and dumbified while engaged in sexual contact with them. they’re referred to as your dads within the sexual context. also—punishments, rules, light dollification, spanking including on your pussy and asshole, oral fixation, thumb finger & cock sucking, use of pacifier as a gag, mention of a breeding and pregnancy kink, use of ‘little girl, tiny’ etc.
hate is blocked. you are responsible for the content you consume—i’m not your babysitter. please read with caution as this is intense and heavy. this does not represent sanhwa nor my perception of them in any way—it’s an alternate universe and 100% fantasy.
dad bfs!sanhwa are the definition of nurturing. they’re so soft for you—from the moment they saw you (or ‘found you’ as they like to put it—like you were simply lost and wandering by yourself until they stumbled across you) all alone and pretty and perfect, you’ve melted even the harshest, coldest parts of them. they wouldn’t say there were all that many to begin with—still, you’ve softened them in ways they hadn’t thought possible.
san and seonghwa have always liked small, cute things—weak, helpless things; things that would be all too easy to break. not because they want to break them, but because they want to make sure no one ever does. they just like the idea of protecting someone. caring for them. shouldering responsibility for someone who just isn’t strong enough to shoulder it themselves.
truth be told, they do like to break you on occasion; just a little, enough to make your eyes water and lips tremble and your body shake and squirm helplessly in their grips. and only because you’re so soft and sweet and perfect when they put you back together again.
for them, the pleasure of breaking you is just as much in the rebuild.
ask either of them for their idea of heaven, and they’d say the same thing—with you curled up between them, your head cradled against san’s chest and your legs curled up in seonghwa’s laps. lips puffy and pouty, faint tear tracks still on your face, your lashes still damp with tears. whimpering in your sleep when something brushes against the sensitive skin of your ass and thighs.
dad bfs!sanhwa rarely have to punish you—thought they’d be the first to admit they’d probably end up being a little too soft on you to do it even if you did start misbehaving. you’ve mastered the puppy eyes and they’ve done nothing but coo and praise and encourage you. not their fault you’re so cute. they don’t think it matters all that much though, really—not when you’re such a good girl anyway. you love listening and obeying and being told how good you are for it—so when they do hurt you, it’s usually not as a punishment.
they call it ‘check-ins.’ once or twice a week—whenever they say—you’ll take off all your clothes, show them your holes and your curves and let them choose which one they’re going to beat today. then you’ll stay still and sweet and sorry while they smack you until you’re sobbing. it’s usually the soft, plump cheeks of your ass and thighs. often it’s your pussy. it’s very rarely, only once or twice you think, been your asshole.
it’s to maintain your good behaviour, they say, and discourage the bad. ‘maintenance’ is another word—of your obedience, your mindset, your role. little girls need a lot of discipline and structure—that’s what they tell you every time before they tip you over their knees. little girls need a strong, firm hand to keep them in check.
they need it even when they haven’t actually done anything wrong. it’s what keeps you from doing anything wrong in the first place, apparently.
dad bf!seonghwa is probably stricter, though not by much. he’s a firm believer in rules and discipline and, as the eldest, is used to keeping order. he’s mastered the stern look and warning tone and the quick, sharp smack to your ass when you’re acting up in public to warn you to pull yourself together. “i won’t have my little girl embarrassing me,” he’ll whisper in your ear, one hand on the back of your neck. “start behaving or we’re going home.”
you know he’s not lying—they’ve both had to take you home to punish you a few times, usually when you’re getting too excited to control yourself. they don’t mind—even the best girls mess up sometimes—and it’s not something they’re afraid to do. dad bf!seonghwa is also stricter after you’ve been punished—where dad bf!san will have you curled up in his arms straight away, rocking you back and forth and stroking your marks and cooing about what a good baby you are, dad bf!seonghwa has been known on occasion to send you to the corner to reflect until he knows you’ve learnt your lesson.
it’s also usually him who does your ‘check-ins’ too. san will help, of course, and he does deliver them himself sometimes, but he prefers to cradle your head in his lap (and rub your face against his crotch if he’s in that sort of mood) while seonghwa sets you straight.
dad bfs!sanhwa love to dress you up. choosing your outfits, doing your hair—you’re like a little doll to them. they love making you up like their perfect princess and cooing about how pretty you are—then taking you apart so methodically and thoroughly that every tiny detail of your ensemble has been defiled.
but it’s not just sexual—even when you go out with them, or when you’re having a lazier day at home, they choose your clothes and do your hair. “that’s what daddies do,” they say. “they take care of their babies.”
dad bf!san always makes sure to clip a bow into your hair, always matching it with your outfit.
dad bfs!sanhwa love how much of an oral fixation you have. from the start of your relationship with them it’s been clear you love, even need to have something in your mouth. their fingers, your thumb, their cocks—you’re never truly settled unless you’ve something to suckle at. a little while into the relationship, when you finally started to embrace your smaller side and let them care for you the way they’d always known you needed, they bought you some pacifiers. not just any pacifiers—the ones they bought you are attached to a little pink strap that loops around the back of your head and keeps the pacifier in your mouth.
a gag, really. but if you call it anything other than your paci you’ll end up with a bruised ass and the paci strapped into your mouth for the rest of the day.
that’s one thing they can be quite strict about—keeping you small, is how they put it. you’re their baby, after all, so you’re expected to act like it. no using grown up words or trying to do too much with yourself. you wanna do something? ask for permission. that’s what good girls do.
dad bfs!sanhwa love having you sandwiched between them—so small and helpless to the whims of your big, strong dads. powerless to stop them from playing with you as they please, exactly as you like it. you love not having control. they love taking it from you. you see it more as them taking a burden from you, than you giving up anything. you can’t give up something you never wanted to have—it’s a gift from them to you, if anything.
“is baby going to cum tonight?” san coos, stroking your hair.
“dunno, dad,” you murmur.
“course you don’t,” seonghwa chuckles. he’s pressed up against you from behind, dick hard and leaning against your bare ass. “baby doesn’t decide that, does she? who decides?”
“daddy decides.”
“good little girl,” san gruffs. “come here, tiny, spread your legs.”
you part your thighs a little, enough for san to slide his hands into the gap and pull them further apart. he hooks one up around his waist, holding you open, and tugs your panties to the side of your pussy.
“oh, that’s it,” san says. “so wet for us already, pretty baby.”
“sweet little pussy.”
seonghwa nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin while san slides two fingers into your cunt.
“there we go,” seonghwa murmurs. “open up for daddy, baby. so wet and soppy.”
dad bfs!sanhwa love to fill you up, and you love it too. to be full of their cum, leaking from all your holes; dripping from your pussy and assholes and running down your thighs.
their little breeding baby, they call you. cum-filled bitch, when they’re feeling a little meaner. leaking like a fucked out whore.
they’re balls deep in you now, san in your cunt and seonghwa in your asshole with his hand clasped around your neck. “you want our cum?” he asks. “nice and deep? ask us for it, little girl. ask your dads to get you pregnant, huh?”
“daddy please,” you squeak. “put a baby in me, please daddy. need it.”
dad bfs!sanhwa are always there for you. when you’re feeling a little smaller, or you’re too stressed and overly emotional—you become a little bit of a crybaby, honestly. but they love that about you; your teary eyes. the wobble in your voice as you try to keep your composure. it’s so sweet, when you try and hold yourself together. sometimes you need them, their encouragement, to fully come undone. and when you do they’ll be there—they’re always there.
⭑ bf!mingi x gf!reader x bestie!yunho
⭑ warnings in each part smut minors dni / word count 52.7k
ONE — planning to buy a house, get married and start a family within the next few years, you and mingi are the blueprint for the perfect relationship— until one of yunho’s infamous stories about his intriguing sex life gets stuck in your head for a little too long, and has you curious about spicing up your own sex life. 21.4k
TWO — it finally happened... and then it happened again... and again... until lines are blurred and everything feels a little heavier than it was supposed to. 31.3k
