chrissssssmut

[chrissssssmut]

BETTER THAN HER

stepmom!Jihyo x Male Reader feat. Yunjin

Tags: cheating, titfucking, teasing, cum on tits, sloppy blowjob

AN: Sorry for the slow uploads! I've been continuously writing stories!

You thought it would be a normal weekend. Yunjin, your girlfriend of nearly a year, had finally decided it was time to introduce you to her mom. You were nervous—who wouldn’t be? She rarely talked about her, and when she did, there was this vague edge to her tone… like she didn’t want to get too deep.

But none of that prepared you for Jihyo.

The door opened, and she stood there in a silky wine-colored blouse that showed just enough cleavage to confuse you, her pencil skirt hugging wide hips that swayed with casual dominance. Her makeup was subtle but flawless, her eyes sharp and assessing.

“You must be him,” she said, smiling in a way that felt like she already knew too much.

You swallowed and bowed slightly, mumbling a polite greeting. Jihyo tilted her head, eyes raking up and down your body—slow, deliberate, and definitely not motherly.

The three of you sat in the living room, wine glasses in hand. Yunjin was curled into your side, chatting excitedly about university life. You tried to focus on her, on the familiar comfort of her voice and her hand on your thigh.

But Jihyo… her gaze never left you.

She sat across, legs crossed with a knowing smirk, watching you sip from your glass. Every few seconds, her foot shifted slightly, heel teasing at her ankle strap, as if she wanted you to look. And when your eyes accidentally met hers, she smirked—not kindly, not casually.

Predatory.

“Be right back, babe. I need the bathroom,” Yunjin said suddenly, pecking your cheek and standing.

The moment she turned the corner—

“I see why she likes you,” Jihyo said smoothly, setting her glass down with a faint clink. “Cute. Polite. Nervous.”

You froze.

“I-I’m sorry?” you said, heart starting to race.

Jihyo stood. Walked toward you slowly. She leaned down, so close her breath tickled your ear.

“Let me guess,” she purred. “Yunjin’s still figuring things out. Still shy in bed. Still asks if it hurts when you slide inside?”

You nearly choked.

“I—uh—I don’t think—”

Her hand traced the top of your shoulder. “Relax. I’m not judging. She’s sweet. But don’t lie to yourself, baby boy… her pussy’s not even close to mine.”

You jolted away from her touch, face burning, but before you could say a word—

“Back!” Yunjin called cheerily from the hall.

Jihyo stepped back like nothing had happened, fixing her blouse with perfect calm. You stared straight ahead, heart hammering in your ears as Yunjin snuggled back into your side, oblivious.

That night, you lay beside Yunjin on the guest bed, her breathing slow and gentle as she fell asleep curled around your arm.

But you couldn’t sleep.

Jihyo’s voice kept echoing in your head. That gaze. The confidence. The threat. And underneath all of that—your shame.

Your hard-on pressed uncomfortably against your boxers.

You sighed and slowly slipped out from under Yunjin’s arm, padding softly out of the room to go use the bathroom downstairs.

The hallway was dark, quiet. You turned the corner—

And froze.

Jihyo stood at the end of the hall in a loose robe that was barely tied. Her cleavage spilled out from the top, the hem high enough to flash creamy thighs with every step she took toward you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she whispered.

“I—I just need the bathroom,” you muttered.

She stepped in close, fingers curling around your wrist.

“No. You need something else.”

Before you could resist, she dragged you into her bedroom and kicked the door shut with a soft click. She shoved you against the wall and pressed her body to yours—warm, soft, and dangerously firm.

“I love Yunjin,” you blurted.

Jihyo’s eyes glinted.

“Good,” she whispered, lips brushing yours. “Then you’ll know just how wrong this is when I fuck you better than she ever could.”

“Stop—I can’t—”

“Shhh.”

Her hand slid into your boxers, gripping your painfully hard cock.

“She doesn’t even know how to stroke you, does she? She probably treats this thing like it’ll break.”

She started stroking you slowly, fingers teasing the head.

“But I know what a cock like this needs. I’ve raised one. You think I can’t break one too?”

You gasped as she knelt, parting her robe just enough to expose full, heavy tits.

“You’ll cum on these, baby. You’ll cum for me.”

Her tongue dragged across the tip of your cock, slow and dangerous, eyes never leaving yours.

Jihyo devoured you like a starving woman—insatiable, relentless, and so in control it made your head spin.

Her knees hit the floor with practiced grace, her silk robe falling open just enough to flash the swell of her bare breasts. She didn’t ask. She didn’t hesitate. She just looked up at you with those dark, hungry eyes and took your cock into her mouth.

Her tongue swirled around the head first—slow, deliberate—teasing the slit until you twitched. Then her lips sealed around you and she sank deep. Your body seized.

“F-Fuck—” you choked, grabbing the edge of the dresser behind you for support, legs trembling.

Jihyo moaned low in her throat—on purpose—the vibration shooting straight through your core as she swallowed you inch by inch. Her throat flexed around your length, tight and hot, and when her nose touched your pelvis, she stayed there, gagging softly, loving it.

You looked down and saw it—spit drooling from the corners of her mouth, strings clinging to her chin, her chest, your thighs. Her eyes fluttered up, smug even as her throat spasmed around your cock.

She pulled off with a slick pop, panting, lips red and swollen.

“You’re already shaking,” she purred, slowly stroking your spit-soaked cock with one hand. “So sensitive. Poor thing. She doesn’t take care of you, does she?”

Before you could answer, she spat again—thick, wet, and hot—right onto your shaft, letting it drip all the way down before wrapping her tits around it.

“Oh fuck—” you gasped, knees locking.

She smirked. “Mmm. There we go.”

Her breasts engulfed you—soft, tight, warm. She squeezed them together, your cock snug between them as she began to slide you through, slowly at first, then faster. The spit made it slick, nasty. Each stroke pushed the head of your cock out the top, and each time she leaned forward and kissed it—wet, warm, possessive.

“You like this, don’t you?” she whispered. “Tell me the truth. Has Yunjin ever even looked at your cock like this?”

You tried to shake your head, tried to speak, but she cut you off by leaning forward and sucking your tip back into her mouth mid-stroke.

“Ah—Jihyo, please—fuck—”

She pulled off again with a laugh. “No, huh? Of course not. That little girl doesn’t know how to worship a cock. But I do.”

She started bouncing her tits faster now, hands squeezing tighter, fucking your cock between them with obscene slaps of skin and spit.

“Look at you. Twitching. Gasping. Losing your mind from a titfuck. You’re hers? No, baby. You belong to me.”

You whimpered—helpless, eyes fluttering. She leaned forward again, whispering as her tits pounded against your thighs.

“Beg,” she hissed. “Beg to cum on mommy’s tits.”

“I—I can’t—”

“You will. Say it.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily.

“Please—please, Jihyo—let me cum on your tits—I’m gonna—”

Suddenly—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Your heart stopped.

Jihyo froze for half a second, then slowly turned her head. She was still stroking you with her tits, her hands on either side of them, skin glistening with sweat and spit. Her hair was wild, her mouth still wet, her cheeks flushed. She looked like sin incarnate.

And standing in the doorway—was Yunjin.

Her face was pale with shock, twisting into something between betrayal and fury. Her hands shook at her sides. “What the hell are you doing to him?!”

“Baby, I—” you stammered, words tripping over the edge of your tongue, but it was already too late.

Your body, traitorous and unthinking, clenched and spasmed. You groaned as your orgasm ripped through you, hips twitching helplessly as thick ropes of cum shot up Jihyo’s chest, streaking her skin, her neck, even her cheek. A strand caught in her hair. Her smile only grew as she kept stroking you, slow and cruel, milking every drop with calculated precision.

“Oops,” she whispered, not even looking at Yunjin. “Too late.”

Yunjin’s eyes were wide, blinking rapidly, her chest rising and falling as if she couldn’t breathe. Her mouth opened like she wanted to scream, but no sound came.

“Get. Out.” Her voice cracked on the last word, low and shaking.

You reached for her, panic and guilt rising in your throat—but she backed away like you were poison, her eyes already shining with tears. The door slammed shut so hard the frame rattled.

Silence.

Jihyo exhaled through her nose, amused, then wiped a slow finger through the mess on her chest and brought it to her lips. She licked it clean—one long, obscene motion—her eyes never once leaving the door Yunjin had just fled through.

“Well,” she purred, rising to her feet, bare and glistening, “guess I’ll be the only one calling you baby now.”

You stood there frozen—sweat cooling on your skin, breath uneven, heart hammering. Your cock was softening, spent and glistening with her spit and your cum. The shame hit in waves, creeping up from your stomach, squeezing your ribs, clawing into your throat like it wanted to choke you from the inside out.

She baited you. She broke you. And you let her.

“I didn’t want this,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Jihyo’s laugh was low, amused, sharp as broken glass. “You begged for it.”

She stepped closer, bare feet on the hardwood floor, tits still glistening, a smudge of your release trailing down her sternum like a claim. She reached out, dragging her nails across your chest gently, like you were some prized possession she’d finally unwrapped.

“You loved it,” she added, quieter now. “Don’t insult me by pretending otherwise.”

You recoiled slightly. “I love Yunjin.”

Jihyo’s expression didn’t change. She looked at you like that confession was cute, like a child clinging to a broken toy.

“You loved Yunjin,” she corrected. “Past tense. But she’s not here anymore, is she? She ran. Like a girl. Because she couldn’t handle the truth.”

She slid a hand down your stomach, her fingers ghosting along your skin. You flinched when they brushed your soft cock.

“You can lie to her all you want,” Jihyo said, her tone coiling with hunger, “but don’t lie to me. Your body knows who owns it now.”

You clenched your jaw, throat dry. “You ruined everything.”

Her lips curled, almost proud. “No. I just revealed everything. You were already drifting. Already curious. I just… opened the door.”

She turned from you, walking slowly across the room, her hips swaying like she wanted to taunt the memory of your orgasm back to life. She picked up her robe, but made no effort to cover herself—just draped it loosely over her shoulders, her body still on display, as if your cum was part of her now.

“I’ve had men look at me like that before,” she said as she stared out the window. “Hungry. Desperate. Guilty.”

She glanced back at you, eyes dark and glinting with satisfaction.

“They always come back.”

You staggered a step backward. The dresser behind you creaked as you leaned into it for support, suddenly aware of how sore your legs were, how weak your knees had become. Your brain was racing, overloaded. The air felt thick with the smell of sex, sweat, perfume, and salt.

“Why?” you asked. “Why her? Why… do this to your daughter?”

Jihyo’s laugh this time was hollow, deeper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You think this was about Yunjin?”

She turned toward you again, walking slowly, deliberately, until she was just inches from your chest. She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper.

“This was about you.”

You tried to breathe, but your lungs felt tight, your body still betraying you with the ghost of arousal curling in your gut, despite the disgust and regret gnawing at your ribs.

“She never knew how to handle a man like you. I do. I knew the moment I saw you. The way you watched me when you thought I wasn’t looking. The way you fidgeted. The way you got hard the second I said her pussy wasn’t enough.”

You turned your head away, shame crawling up your neck like heat.

“But now?” she whispered, her voice velvet and smoke. “Now you’re mine. And I’ll make sure you never forget how good it felt to be ruined.”

Her hand wrapped around your cock again—not to tease, not to arouse, but to remind. Her grip was gentle, almost affectionate, like she was holding something fragile she already knew how to break.

You pulled away finally, jerking out of her grasp with a gasp, like you’d come out of a trance.

“I—I have to go,” you muttered. “I need to find her.”

Jihyo didn’t stop you. She just smiled again, that same cruel, knowing smile.

“Go ahead. Run to her. Try to explain why you came on her mother’s tits.”

Her words were calm, but they hit like knives. You grabbed your pants and slipped them on clumsily, your hands trembling. Your shirt was across the room, half-crumpled, and stained with sweat. You ignored it. You just had to get out.

But as you fumbled for the door handle, she called after you, sing-song and cruel:

“Tell her I said thank you for sharing.”

You burst out into the hallway, the silence of the house oppressive. Yunjin was gone—her bedroom door wide open, the guest sheets thrown off, her shoes missing from the front step.

You were alone.

You were trapped.

And Jihyo… was still in the room behind you, humming softly to herself, wiping your cum from her chest like it was lotion, sealing the sin into her skin.

[chrissssssmut]

can I have yandere teacher reader x nmixx? (ot6)

basically reader is obsessed with nmixx and thought of a plan for years to capture them. then once he finally does, he uses them and abuses them against his own will. (hope this isn’t bad and u don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna!)

SLUT THEM OUT

(Yandere wl SMUT)

NMIXX OT6 x Yandere Male Reader

The studio was silent.

Silent… except for the humming of the old ventilation unit overhead, and the soft, distant sound of muffled footsteps echoing from the floors above.

You stood in the shadowed corner of the underground practice room. Six sets of clothes were carelessly discarded on the small leather couch in the corner, next to the stack of scripts and lesson plans. You had planned this for months. Years.

They trusted you.

“Teacher-nim,” Lily had once said with a shy smile, “you’re always so patient with us.”

And you were. Patient. Kind. Caring. Always watching them practice. Always pretending to be nothing but professional. But deep down? You were counting the days. Waiting for the moment the six of them were finally yours.

And tonight? They walked into your cage willingly.

Click.

The heavy iron doors slammed shut upstairs.

Haewon jolted first. “W-What was that?”

You stepped into the light, calm, composed, the master of the maze you'd built.

“Good evening, girls.”

Their heads turned.

“Teacher?” Kyujin blinked, her long hair sticking to her sweat-damp neck. “What are you still doing here?”

Your smile didn't reach your eyes.

“I should be asking you that. But then again… I did ask for a private lesson, didn’t I?”

Bae frowned, moving toward the exit. “We have our own ride. We should—”

Click.

She twisted the knob.

Nothing.

“What...?”

The panic in their eyes. Delicious.

You walked slowly across the room, the black gloves still on your hands from setting the timer-locked doors.

“I’ve waited long enough. All your teasing... all the dancing, the laughing, the bending over in front of me like you didn’t know what you were doing. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

They looked confused. Terrified. Kyujin tried pulling her phone out.

No signal.

You tilted your head. “You’re in a soundproofed sub-basement beneath the academy. You can scream if you want.”

“Are you crazy?” Sullyoon whispered.

“I’m fucking in love,” you murmured, stepping forward until her back hit the wall. “With all of you.”

They scattered like frightened prey, but there was nowhere to run. The trap was perfect. Cameras disabled. Timers set. Alarms off. You pressed a remote—the lights dimmed to a sultry low red glow.

"Let’s begin."

Lily was the first you dragged back. She fought. God, she fought.

You pressed her down on the polished floor, her leggings tearing under your grip. She screamed—but her voice was muffled when you grabbed her by the throat and whispered into her ear.

“Why do you think I always let you dance in front? Why do you think I stayed late to correct your posture? I watched every bounce of your tits. Every curve of your hips. You're the reason I couldn't sleep at night.”

Her thighs trembled.

“No, no, this is wrong—!”

You ripped the remains of her top open, baring her to the cold air.

“Oh, you love being watched, don’t you, little doll?” you growled. “Let me show you what real attention feels like.”

You shoved her knees apart and lined your cock up with her soaked pussy—because even if she denied it, her body was already betraying her.

“Look at that,” you smirked. “So wet already. You want this.”

“N-no—”

You pushed in slowly, inch by inch—deliberately, cruelly, savoring every twitch of her tight walls as they clamped around your cock.

Lily’s legs kicked uselessly against the floor, her hands pushing at your chest, her fingernails dragging down your shirt—but she couldn’t stop you. Not like this. Not after everything you planned.

She was soaking. You had barely touched her, and she was already wet. Already clenching.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

“N-no, stop—ah—” she choked out as the thick head slipped past her entrance, spreading her open with a slick, obscene sound.

“You’re so tight,” you groaned into her ear, grinding your hips forward, forcing more of your cock inside her aching heat. “So warm. You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”

She shook her head violently, tears starting to slip from the corners of her eyes.

“Liar,” you growled.

Your hand clamped down around her throat, not hard enough to cut off air—but just enough to hold her still, to make her feel helpless.

“Say you don’t want it again,” you whispered, dragging your lips across the shell of her ear. “Say it while your pussy’s swallowing me.”

Lily sobbed.

Her body betrayed her again—another involuntary squeeze, a desperate shiver of pleasure—and you buried another inch inside her, your hips pressing flush against her soft thighs.

Her jaw dropped with a strangled whimper.

“F-fuck—! Please, I c-can’t—”

“Oh, you can,” you hissed, starting to thrust in shallow, teasing strokes. “You’re going to take every inch of me. Nice and deep.”

Her eyes rolled back when you bottomed out. Her walls stretched, reshaped, forced to mold around your cock. She writhed underneath you, unable to hide how her back arched against the floor, her chest rising with each breathless moan.

“See that?” you murmured darkly, leaning down until your forehead touched hers. “You’re already breaking.”

You gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, your other sliding down to cup her cheek roughly.

“This is what happens when you make me wait. When you wear those tiny shorts to dance rehearsals. When you bounce your little ass in front of the mirrors, pretending it’s innocent.”

“I wasn’t—” she cried out, hips involuntarily jerking up against you. “I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean to get me hard every fucking night?” You rammed into her, hard enough to make her yelp. “Didn’t mean to give me wet dreams about bending you over the piano? Don’t you dare pretend you didn’t know.”

You drove into her again, brutal, relentless.

“Lily, you knew. Every giggle. Every arch of your back. You wanted my attention.”

Your lips ghosted down to her neck. “And now you’ve got all of it.”

Her moans were starting to lose resistance—higher-pitched now, broken, breathy. Her thighs quivered around your waist.

“Y-you’re too deep,” she whimpered.

You grabbed her hips and rolled her, bending her knees up to her chest, folding her in half and slamming into her again. Her eyes fluttered.

“Say it,” you growled, your cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her.

She blinked up at you, lips trembling, cheeks flushed.

“Say you need it.”

“I—I d-don’t—”

You slowed down. Cruel.

Pulled halfway out.

She gasped at the emptiness.

You leaned close again, lips brushing hers, voice dangerously low.

“Say you want me to fuck you. Or I’ll stop. Right now.”

Lily trembled, her body caught between shame and unbearable pleasure.

“I—” her voice broke.

“Louder.”

“…I want it,” she whispered.

Your hand gripped her throat tighter.

“Look me in the eyes when you say it.”

Her lips quivered.

“I want you to fuck me…”

Your mouth curled into a dark grin.

“There’s my good girl.”

And with that, you slammed back into her full force, pounding into her soaked cunt with long, merciless strokes. Her cries filled the studio, echoing off the walls, her body twitching, helpless beneath your grip.

She was yours now.

Completely.

While Lily lay twitching, cum dripping between her thighs, you grabbed Haewon by the arm and pulled her against your chest.

“No. Please—I’m not like her—!” she tried to back away.

You grabbed her chin, forcing her to look.

“But you watched, didn’t you?”

Her lips trembled. She had.

“You liked seeing her used. Filthy little fangirl.”

You shoved her down onto the couch and made her wrap her legs around you.

“You're mine now.”

You kept Haewon pinned beneath you—her body shivering, her breath ragged against your chest. You thrust into her slowly now, deliberately grinding your cock against every sensitive nerve inside her pussy, pulling moans from her even as she tried to bite her lip shut.

“I can feel you clenching,” you whispered, brushing the sweat-drenched hair from her face. “You don’t want me to stop.”

“N-no,” she whimpered, tears still in her eyes. “Please… it’s too much—”

“Too much?” you chuckled cruelly, gripping her hips tighter and slamming into her. Her eyes rolled back, a sob breaking loose.

“I’ve barely started, Haewon.”

She thrashed weakly underneath you, her thighs trying to close—but you just spread them further and held her wide open, watching her fall apart with every slow, punishing stroke.

Her nipples were hard, chest heaving against your own as she sobbed into your shoulder.

“You don’t get to run. You don’t get to hide from this,” you growled, dragging your cock out until only the tip teased her soaked entrance. “This is what happens when you pretend to be sweet. When you flutter those eyes and laugh during lessons. Did you think I didn’t see you tugging your skirt down whenever I walked by?”

You drove back in—hard.

She screamed, her nails digging into your back.

“I saw it all, Haewon. And now I’m going to fuck it into you. Every second of those fantasies I’ve had.”

Her head fell back against the cushions as she writhed, caught between shame and pleasure.

“You want me to ruin you?” you hissed. “To make your pussy mine forever?”

“I-I don’t—” she sobbed.

You slapped your hand across her mouth, pinning her harder.

“Then take it.”

You fucked her faster, deeper, harder��until her whole body bounced against the couch, the slap of skin filling the room. She started gasping under your palm, her thighs trembling uncontrollably.

“I can feel you,” you whispered, nose brushing hers. “You’re going to cum. Do it.”

She choked out a broken moan behind your hand, legs locking around you.

“That’s it. Be my good little slut.”

And then she snapped—her pussy convulsing around you, a sudden flood of heat and slick soaking both your bodies as she let go completely. You didn’t stop. You fucked her through it—past the sensitivity, past the whimpering, until her body gave out beneath you.

When you finally pulled out, her twitching legs slid uselessly to the side of the couch. Her chest rose and fell with ragged exhaustion, cum dripping between her thighs.

And then you turned your head.

Bae was still crawling toward the mirror wall, her back slick with sweat, her hair plastered to her flushed face. She was trembling.

“Don’t,” she whispered when your eyes locked on hers.

But you were already stalking toward her.

“Trying to run?” you murmured, grabbing her ankle.

She kicked—feral, wild, desperate.

“Oh no, no, no,” you growled, flipping her over onto her back. “You don’t get to act like you’re different. You’ve always wanted my attention.”

She spat at you.

“I hate you.”

You laughed—dark, cruel—as you straddled her waist.

“Then hate me with your legs spread.”

She tried to push you off—hands pounding against your chest—but her strength was no match. You pinned both wrists above her head and rutted your hard cock between her thighs, the head dragging slowly between her lips, spreading her slick folds open.

She gasped.

“You’re wet,” you sneered. “Just like the others.”

“No—shut up!”

You shoved yourself inside.

Her eyes flew open.

“Fuck—!”

“That’s it,” you groaned, bottoming out. “You feel that stretch? That’s mine now.”

Her legs kicked again, but her hips had already started moving.

“No—stop—stop moving—I’m not—!”

“Not what?” you hissed into her ear. “Not a slut? Not moaning right now?”

She clenched around you hard.

“I hate you,” she sobbed again.

You tangled your hand in her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to stare at herself in the full-length mirror beside the wall.

“Then hate me while you’re cumming.”

You slammed into her over and over, her bare ass slapping the cold floor with each thrust. You kept your eyes locked on hers through the mirror, watching every moment of her resistance crack and fall apart.

Her mouth dropped open, her thighs twitching.

“You’re going to cum for the man you hate,” you growled. “You’re going to cum on my cock like the filthy brat you are.”

“F-fuck you—!” she cried out.

“Louder.”

“I—hate—!”

But her back arched violently as her orgasm ripped through her, her moans turning into broken screams as you slammed into her soaked cunt mercilessly.

You didn’t stop.

You forced her to ride it out—again and again—until she collapsed, trembling and glassy-eyed beneath you, legs too weak to even close.

And still, you didn’t pull out.

“Let’s see how long your hate can last.”

The air had shifted.

Three of them remained untouched—Jiwoo, Sullyoon, and Kyujin—huddled in the corner, trembling. The once-pristine practice room now reeked of sweat and cum, the moans and slaps of flesh from earlier still echoing faintly off the studio walls. Your cock stood slick and wet, still twitching with need as you stepped toward them slowly.

They flinched.

“Come here.”

None of them moved.

Your voice sharpened.

“I said—come here.”

Still, nothing. Their chests rose and fell with panicked breaths. And then Sullyoon’s voice cracked.

“F-fuck you.”

You stopped mid-step. Oh?

Jiwoo pushed Kyujin behind her. “We’re not letting you touch us.”

Your grin was slow, dangerous.

“Oh, you’re still pretending you have a choice?”

Without a word, you moved. They screamed and scattered—like deer—but you were faster.

Kyujin made it halfway to the mirror before you tackled her from behind, dragging her down by the ankle. Jiwoo lunged to help—but you shoved her aside, slamming her against the glass.

She groaned and crumpled.

Sullyoon screamed and grabbed the nearest metal chair, swinging it toward you with shaking hands. It scraped the floor.

You caught it.

She stared in disbelief.

You ripped it from her grip and tossed it behind you like it was nothing, grabbing her by the throat with one gloved hand and lifting her onto her toes.

“Trying to fight me now?” you hissed, dragging her closer to the center. “You watched what happened to the others—and still thought you could stop me?”

She choked, eyes wide.

“I gave you a chance to crawl. Now you get to beg.”

You tossed her forward—hard—onto the mat beside the barre. Her knees hit first. You reached down, fisting her hair and shoving her face toward your cock.

“Open.”

She shook her head furiously.

You slapped her across the cheek.

“Open.”

Tears burst from her eyes as her lips parted.

“Good girl,” you sneered. “Now clean me. All of it.”

You shoved your cock into her mouth—forcing her to taste every drop of cum and slick from the others. She gagged immediately, eyes watering as you grabbed both sides of her head and began to thrust.

“I should’ve started with you,” you growled, ramming into her throat. “Mouth like that? Made for being used.”

She sobbed, but your cock silenced everything. You fucked her throat mercilessly, watching drool and spit mix down her chin. Her hands clawed at your thighs, but you held her still—until you pulled back, letting her gasp for air, her face streaked and ruined.

“Now bend over.”

You shoved her down, face-first onto the floor, her ass up in the air, panties already soaked through with shame.

“No—please—”

You ripped them down and plunged into her raw, her scream muffled by her own hand as she tried to cover her mouth.

“This is what you get for resisting me.”

You pounded into her, body jerking beneath you with every thrust, her sobs turning into something higher-pitched—moans she tried to hide.

“You hear yourself?” you hissed. “Even now, you love it.”

When she came, she clenched so hard your hips stuttered.

While Sullyoon lay twitching and sobbing on the floor, you turned back to Jiwoo.

She tried to crawl away—still fighting, still pretending—but the fight had already bled from her limbs.

You grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her toward the couch. She shrieked and swung at you—one last hit.

It landed weakly against your cheek.

You laughed.

“That all you’ve got?”

You yanked her down onto your lap and shoved her back, letting her straddle your thighs. Her eyes widened as she felt your cock press against her soaked slit—because even though she’d fought, her pussy betrayed her. It was dripping.

“N-no, I didn’t—!”

“Oh, you did,” you growled. “You’ve been wet since I took Lina. You sat back there and rubbed your thighs together, didn’t you? Wishing it was you.”

You grabbed her panties and tugged them aside, rubbing the head of your cock through her folds.

Her voice broke.

“Please… don’t put it in…”

You pulled her hips down, slowly—forcing her to sink onto your cock inch by inch. She shook in your grasp, hands clawing at your shoulders, legs twitching around your waist.

Her pussy clenched like velvet heat.

“Oh my god,” she gasped.

“That’s right,” you whispered in her ear. “Now ride.”

“No—”

You grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look into your eyes.

“Ride me.”

She whimpered, her thighs shaking as she started to bounce. You held her hips steady, forcing her to go deeper with each thrust until her voice was a broken chorus of gasps and whines.

“You’re gonna cum on this cock like the slut you are.”

“I’m not—!” she sobbed.

You slapped her ass hard.

“Then why are you moaning?”

Her walls clenched around you violently, and with a long, drawn-out scream, she came undone—collapsing against you, nails digging into your skin, twitching as she rode out the orgasm.

And finally—Kyujin.

She had backed herself into a corner behind the mirror, wide-eyed, whispering something under her breath.

“No… no… I’m not like them…”

You walked toward her slowly, your cum-covered cock still hard and gleaming in the red light.

“I didn’t even touch you yet,” you said. “But your thighs are clenched. Your lips are shaking.”

“I’m not like them,” she repeated, trembling.

You dropped to your knees in front of her, gently stroking her cheek.

“You want me to stop?”

She nodded.

You leaned in, lips brushing hers.

“Then beg.”

Her voice caught.

“P-please…”

“Please what?” you murmured.

“…Please ruin me.”

You smiled.

She didn’t even resist when you pulled her onto the floor, spreading her legs wide and lining yourself up. Her hands reached up to your shoulders like she needed you—craved you—and when you pushed inside, her body arched, back lifting off the ground as she let out a strangled moan.

“Just like that,” you groaned. “You’re already so fucking tight.”

You fucked her like an animal—deep, raw, loud. Her legs wrapped around you without being told, her cries echoing louder than any of the others. You filled her to the hilt and let her ride it, hips slamming into hers as she screamed your name like a prayer.

By the time you came inside her, she was begging you to never stop.

All Six: Broken. Owned.

The six of them lay scattered across the studio—sweaty, trembling, dripping with your cum. Not a single plea to leave. Not a single word of protest. Only dazed, glassy-eyed obedience.

You stood in the center of the room—cock twitching again.

They stared at you like you were god.

And you still had hours left before the doors unlocked.

[chrissssssmut]

Can I request a threesome smut between Jennie and Lisa with their younger boyfriend 🙏

ONLY ONE OF US, RIGHT?

Lisa & Jennie x Male Reader

tags: Threesome, titfuck, assplay, dirty talking

You should’ve known better than to invite them both over at the same time.

At first, it was harmless. Just a chill night—three friends, some pizza, a movie you didn’t even finish because they kept talking through it, mostly bickering, mostly about you.

Jennie was draped over one end of the couch, bare legs stretched out, sipping wine like she was the queen of the place. She wore a cropped long-sleeve shirt, and when she leaned forward, the Calvin Klein waistband of her underwear peeked out just enough to distract you every damn time.

Lisa, meanwhile, was curled up on the other side in her oversized hoodie, knees pulled to her chest, dark eyes watching you every time Jennie spoke. Occasionally, she’d smirk and kick your foot gently, like she knew you were stuck between a warzone and loving every second of it.

“So, Y/N,” Jennie said, swirling her glass with that fake-casual tone that always meant trouble. “Who would you date between us, if you had to pick?”

You blinked, caught mid-bite of a pizza slice. “Excuse me?”

Lisa laughed. “Oh my god. Jennie, stop putting him on the spot.”

Jennie smiled sweetly. “What? It’s a fair question.”

You wiped your hands and leaned back, trying not to look like you were sweating bullets. “You two are... both—uh—beautiful? I’m not picking sides.”

“Coward,” Jennie teased.

Lisa tilted her head, her voice dropping into something more playful. “You know, I’ve always been his type. He likes girls who don’t take themselves too seriously.”

Jennie scoffed. “Please. He likes girls with taste and elegance. Not whatever TikTok bullshit you think passes as flirting.”

Lisa threw a cushion at her.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Can we not fight over me right now?”

Jennie leaned forward, eyes narrowing but with a wicked smirk tugging at her lips. “Fine. We’ll settle it like adults.”

And then Lisa turned to Jennie, one eyebrow raised, voice full of challenge:

“You seriously think he’d pick you?”

Lisa's voice echoed across your apartment living room, sharp and teasing as she tugged her hoodie off her toned body. Underneath, black lace hugged every curve perfectly—her favorite lingerie set. You’d seen glimpses before in the random Instagram thirst traps she shamelessly dropped, but seeing it now, inches away from your face, felt illegal.

Jennie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her chest, pushing up her Calvin Klein bra in the process. The white band peeked out from beneath her cropped shirt, and your throat went dry. “Please. He literally watched my solo stage three times last night and didn’t even pretend to hide it.”

You swallowed. You were fucked. And not in the way you wanted yet.

“Why are you two doing this again?” you asked cautiously, leaning further back on the couch. “This whole... war?”

Jennie turned to you, eyes narrowing but playful. “Because someone can’t make up his mind.”

“Exactly,” Lisa added, already on her knees between your legs, fingers crawling up your thighs. “So we’re gonna help you decide.”

Jennie dropped her shirt onto the floor and sauntered closer, her Calvin Klein bra hugging her perfect tits like a billboard ad come to life. “You’re getting a free trial of both. You’ll pick the better girlfriend after.”

Lisa smirked. “Or maybe you’ll just cry and thank us.”

You never stood a chance.

Jennie kissed you first. Slow, sultry, dragging her tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. Her fingers laced behind your neck while Lisa worked your sweatpants down, palms gliding along your thighs.

“Mmm... already hard,” Lisa whispered, licking her lips as your cock sprang free. “I didn’t even start yet.”

Jennie giggled against your mouth. “Maybe he did pick me already.”

“Watch this,” Lisa muttered, and then—fuck.

She turned around.

That lingerie-covered ass rose in front of your face as she bent down, bracing her hands on your knees. Black lace stretched tight over her plump cheeks as she began to rub them up and down your shaft, slow and teasing.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Lisa—what the fuck—”

“Shh,” she smiled back at you, grinding her hips with more rhythm now, ass swallowing your cock between her cheeks, the soft lace gliding deliciously with each stroke. “You like this, don’t you?”

Jennie straddled your lap, watching Lisa’s ass swallow your cock from below. She dragged her fingers across your chest, then brought them up to unclasp her bra. You watched as it fell away like a gift, her full tits bouncing free.

She leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “And what about these, baby?”

She pressed her chest together and lowered her tits between your thighs, trapping your cock just above Lisa’s rhythm.

“Fucking hell,” you moaned.

Lisa’s ass grinding. Jennie’s tits pressing. Your cock buried in between their bodies like it belonged there.

They moved in sync, Jennie’s soft curves sliding over your base, Lisa’s cheeks teasing your tip.

You could barely think.

“Who’s winning now, huh?” Jennie purred, her nipples brushing your stomach as she looked up at you with a smirk.

Lisa giggled, biting her lip. “He’s gonna lose his mind before even fucking either of us.”

They weren’t wrong.

Jennie took the lead, pushing Lisa playfully onto the couch before straddling your lap again, this time naked from the waist down. You felt the heat of her pussy drag across your shaft as she reached between you and aligned it.

“No more teasing,” she whispered. “I want it first.”

You didn’t argue. She sank down slowly, inch by inch, her walls stretching around you, tight and wet. Her hands gripped your shoulders as she settled in your lap, hips rolling forward with each slow thrust.

“Ohh fuck—baby,” she moaned, riding you with steady rhythm, her tits bouncing in your face, hair messy around her face. “You feel... so good...”

Lisa watched, biting her bottom lip, one hand slipped between her thighs as Jennie fucked herself on you. But she wasn’t gonna just watch forever.

“You’re hogging him,” Lisa growled, standing and yanking Jennie’s hips up. “Let me ride his face.”

Before Jennie could sass back, Lisa swung a leg over your shoulders and planted her soaked lingerie-covered pussy right on your mouth.

You choked slightly as her ass smothered your face, her hips grinding back against your tongue.

You groaned into her, hands grabbing her hips, tasting the heat from her wetness through the lace, then pushing it aside with your tongue and diving in properly.

“Mmm—fuck yes,” Lisa moaned above you, voice raspy. “Eat it like that, babe. Just like that.”

Jennie was still riding your cock, harder now, her rhythm matching the bouncing of Lisa's hips on your mouth.

It was overwhelming. The scent. The sounds. The taste.

Their moans harmonized like a damn song.

Jennie leaned forward to kiss Lisa above you, their lips meeting, tongues tangling as your cock and mouth were both worked raw by their perfect bodies.

Eventually, Jennie pulled off you with a wet pop, chest heaving. “I want to see him cum,” she said, lowering herself between your legs.

Lisa slid off your face and joined her on the floor, licking her lips.

“You got his top,” Lisa teased. “Let me finish him.”

Jennie grinned. “Only if I get his balls.”

You didn’t even get to protest.

Jennie’s lips wrapped around your balls, tongue swirling gently, while Lisa swallowed your cock to the hilt with a groan.

Your hand flew to her head, gripping her dark hair as she bobbed up and down, cheeks hollowing, her throat milking you with every suck.

Jennie, meanwhile, was moaning into your sack like it was candy, her soft hands stroking Lisa’s jaw as she bobbed.

You were so fucking close.

“Fuck—gonna cum—shit—”

Lisa pulled off just enough to say, “Do it. Cum on both of us.”

Jennie looked up with spit shining on her lips. “Make a mess, baby. Give us all of it.”

You exploded with a cry, hips jerking as thick ropes of cum painted Lisa’s face, then Jennie’s chest, then Lisa’s tongue as she licked along the shaft to catch more.

They giggled, messy and glowing, like they just won a bet.

You lay there, panting, body twitching with aftershocks as Jennie climbed into your lap and Lisa curled up beside you.

“So... who wins?” Jennie whispered in your ear, dragging a finger along your chest.

You turned to her, then looked at Lisa—still licking a drop of cum from her lips.

“I can’t choose.”

Lisa laughed. “Then don’t.”

Jennie rolled her eyes but smiled. “Guess you’re stuck with both of us, then.”

You grinned.

“Best decision I never made.”

[chrissssssmut]

Hey!! I saw you write for girl groups, do you perchance write for katseye?

HELL YEAH! No Yoonchae though! She's a babi!

[chrissssssmut]

heyy i love your yandere stories is it okay if i request 1 with smut where arin where she’s this rich ceo who have failed in many relationships until she met you at a random bread shop?

MINE. ONLY MINE. (Yandere w/ smut)

Yandere Arin x Male Reader

You first met her at the little bakery on 5th—the one with the chipped blue door and the sleepy old man who always gave you an extra cinnamon roll if you smiled.

It was raining that morning. You still remember the scent of fresh dough mixing with the sharp bitterness of your coffee. The soft murmur of jazz in the background. You were half-awake, your hoodie damp from the drizzle outside, debating whether the cinnamon roll was worth the inevitable sugar crash later.

It was then that she walked in.

The entire room shifted when she did.

Her heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor. Her long, black hair was pulled back into a sleek, flawless ponytail, not a strand out of place. Her pantsuit was midnight blue, tailored to her frame like it was crafted by a team of perfectionists. The curve of her waist, the glint of her earrings, the boldness of her crimson lipstick—everything about her screamed: money, power, danger.

You looked up.

She was already looking at you.

Eyes sharp. Mouth curled in a soft, deliberate smile. Not kind. Not flirty. Claiming.

You immediately dropped your gaze to your coffee, cheeks burning.

What the hell…?

You weren't used to women like her looking at you. Hell, you weren’t used to anyone looking at you that way—like you were already undressed, already touched, already theirs.

She didn’t glance at the menu. Didn’t step toward the counter.

She just stood by the door.

Watching you.

You tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Bit into your cinnamon roll, eyes fixed on the table, fingers fidgeting with the coffee sleeve.

But her stare stayed.

You felt it—hot and steady. The kind of gaze that made your heartbeat quicken without knowing why.

After another agonizing few seconds, you finally looked back up.

She was still there.

“...Can I help you?” you asked, awkwardly.

She tilted her head—still smiling—and took a slow step forward.

“You looked lonely,” she said. Her voice was smooth, feminine, low enough to feel like it vibrated somewhere in your chest.

You blinked, confused. “I… I’m not. I’m just—”

“Eating alone. Drinking bitter coffee. Same time as yesterday. Same hoodie.”

You froze.

She'd been here before?

You hadn’t seen her. You would’ve remembered.

“How do you—”

“I watch,” she interrupted softly, closing the distance between you and her by one more step. “I only stop when I find something I want.”

Her eyes flicked to the cinnamon roll.

Then to your hands.

Then—boldly—to your lips.

“And I want.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your pulse thudded in your ears. You felt exposed. Confused. Turned on?

Before you could respond, she turned.

Left.

Just like that. No order. No name. No number.

Only the soft click of her heels, the scent of expensive perfume, and the echo of her voice lingering in your head.

“I want.”

That night, you found a dozen cinnamon rolls on your doorstep. No note.

You thought it was a prank. You thought nothing of the way the same woman from the bakery kept showing up in places she didn’t belong—outside your bus stop, seated in the back of your local café, always watching, always alone.

It had been a long day.

The sky was already dim when you left work, bruised clouds hanging low and heavy. You’d stayed overtime to cover for your coworker—again—and missed the last bus home.

By the time you stepped out of the building, it had started pouring. Not a drizzle—a downpour. Sheets of rain slapped the pavement, soaking your hoodie in seconds. The streetlights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly orange glow on the nearly empty street.

You checked your phone. Dead. Of course.

You cursed softly and turned up your hood, half-jogging toward the direction of the train station, but your sneakers were already soaked. Cold water crept up your ankles. The wind howled, biting through your clothes.

Then you heard it.

The sound of a car door unlocking.

You turned toward the curb—and there it was.

A sleek black car. Expensive. Almost silent.

The back window rolled down slowly.

And there she was.

Arin.

Dry, elegant, untouched by the storm. Leaning back in cream leather seats, one arm resting casually on the doorframe. Her lipstick was a deeper red tonight. Her eyes darker.

She smiled like she’d been waiting hours just for this moment.

“Need a ride?” she asked, voice low and sweet.

You froze.

“…How did you know I was here?” you asked, trying not to let your voice tremble.

Her head tilted.

“I didn’t,” she said with a small shrug. “But I knew you'd miss your bus. You're predictable like that.”

Your heart thudded hard.

“You’ve been watching me,” you said quietly, the realization washing over you like ice.

Her lips curled upward, unbothered. “Only a little.”

A beat of silence passed—filled only by the sound of rain pounding the asphalt around you.

“Get in, sweetheart,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

You hesitated. Every fiber of your body screamed that this was wrong. That she shouldn’t know this much about you. That this wasn’t normal.

But your clothes were soaked. Your phone was dead. You had no umbrella. No bus. No one to call.

And part of you—some terrible, whispering part—was curious.

So you stepped off the sidewalk.

Opened the door.

And got in.

The warmth hit you instantly. So did the scent—her perfume, expensive leather, something faintly floral that made your chest tighten.

The door clicked shut beside you.

You glanced at her.

She was already watching.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she murmured, brushing a droplet of water from your cheek with her thumb. “You really shouldn’t walk alone at night. It’s dangerous.”

You tried to speak, but your voice caught in your throat.

“Let me take care of you,” she said softly, almost like a lover. “You’ll be safe with me.”

The engine purred to life.

The locks clicked shut.

And suddenly, you realized—you never told her your address.

The inside of the car was so quiet you could hear the rain sliding off the windshield.

Arin sat beside you in the backseat, her posture perfect, fingers scrolling idly through her phone like this was any ordinary night. The driver—a man in a black suit and gloves—didn’t say a word. He never looked in the mirror. Not once.

You sat stiffly, damp clothes clinging to your skin, hands folded in your lap like a nervous student in the principal’s office.

“…Thanks again,” you muttered awkwardly. “You didn’t have to go out of your way.”

Arin didn’t look up.

“I wanted to,” she said simply. “It made me happy.”

The words lingered in the air like perfume. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

The city lights passed by in a blur. Your neighborhood was getting close. The bakery. The park. The laundry place where you dropped your clothes every Saturday.

Then you saw your street corner up ahead.

You leaned forward slightly. “Uh—that’s my stop, right there. Just by the yellow sign.”

The driver didn’t slow down.

You turned your head. “Sorry, did he hear—?”

“I told him not to,” Arin interrupted, eyes still on her screen.

“…What?”

She finally glanced at you. Her eyes gleamed in the dark interior of the car.

“I’m taking you somewhere first,” she said softly. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

Your pulse spiked. “Wait—no, I—I really need to get home—”

“You can go home after,” she cut in, voice still gentle but with a thread of steel beneath it. “This won’t take long. I have something to give you.”

“I didn’t agree to that—”

She reached over and took your hand.

Her fingers were warm. Her grip was soft—but unmovable.

“I know you’re nervous,” she said sweetly, brushing your knuckles with her thumb. “That’s okay. New things are scary. But I promise, you’ll thank me for this.”

You stared at her, words catching in your throat.

She smiled. “You’ve been alone so long, haven’t you?”

You didn’t answer.

She leaned in.

“I see it in the way you walk. In how quiet you are at cafés. Always looking around, like you’re waiting for someone to notice you. You don’t know how badly I want to fill that space inside you.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how.

You just sat there, staring at the tinted window as your home passed by in a blur of headlights and rain.

Ten minutes later, the car pulled into an underground garage.

Polished. Private. Silent.

The driver opened the door. You stepped out on shaky legs, your soaked shoes squeaking against the marble floor.

Arin took your arm.

Not in a romantic way. In a final way.

Like a queen guiding her prize.

She led you to the elevator, scanning a card from her coat pocket. The doors opened silently. You stepped inside.

The entire ride up, she held your wrist.

Not tight.

Just enough to remind you that it wasn’t your choice.

Now…

You were in her penthouse. Expensive, sterile, so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat echo in the marble.

You were trembling—nervous, confused, turned on in a way that made you feel like a bad person.

She stood over you like a queen admiring her new toy. Arin was barefoot now, blazer off, dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal a lacy black bra beneath. She looked elegant. Unhinged. Ravishing.

“Tell me the truth,” she purred, lowering herself onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours like she belonged there. “You noticed me first, didn’t you? That day in the bakery?”

You swallowed hard. “No… I—I didn’t even know who you were…”

“Liar,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours, her voice sugary and venomous. “You looked at me. I felt it. That was enough.”

Her hand slid down your chest, fingers undoing each button like it was hers to open. “You don’t understand what you’ve done to me, baby. I haven’t slept properly since I saw you. I’ve had men—executives, actors, even politicians—beg to be mine, and I turned every one of them down…”

Her hand found the bulge between your thighs. She squeezed gently, smiling when you gasped.

“But you…” she moaned into your ear. “You were just standing there, buying that cheap little pastry, looking like you didn’t even know how goddamn adorable you are. Do you know what that did to me?”

You shook your head, frozen, overwhelmed, aroused.

“I wanted to own you. I wanted to know how you taste. I wanted to tie you up and make you cry my name until your throat bled.”

Her tongue licked up the side of your neck.

“I wanted you to need me.”

She dragged you to the bedroom—no, more like carried you, one hand gripping your wrist while her voice never stopped whispering promises.

“You’re never leaving me, baby.”

She shoved you onto the silk sheets, climbed over you, and pinned your wrists above your head.

“You think I don’t see it?” Arin hissed, grinding down harder on your hips, her voice a venom-laced whisper. “The way people look at you when you walk down the street?”

You blinked up at her, chest heaving. “W-What are you talking about—?”

“That cashier girl,” she snapped, eyes wild with sharp gleaming fury. “At the café. The one who smiled too much when you paid. The one who asked if you wanted your receipt.”

Your breath caught. “I didn’t even talk to her—!”

“She looked at you like she wanted you. Like you belonged to her.” Her nails scraped lightly down your chest, not hard enough to draw blood—but enough to make you flinch. “She doesn’t even know how filthy you sound when you beg.”

You shook your head desperately. “Arin, I don’t even notice other girls—”

She leaned in, licking a slow stripe up your neck, tongue warm and possessive.

“I notice them for you.”

Your body trembled.

“I see the way they glance at your lips. I see the way they lean in a little too close. And it makes me sick,” she growled, voice cracking with emotion. “You’re not theirs. You’re not the world’s. You’re mine.”

“You don’t need anyone else. You’ll forget her, and everyone else, once I fuck that name out of your mouth.”

She slid your pants off roughly, throwing them off the bed.

Her hand wrapped around your cock, already stiff from the intoxicating mix of fear and arousal. She spat on it. Then smeared her saliva slowly over your tip with her thumb while locking eyes with you.

“Good boy,” she murmured. “You’re hard for me. Not her. Not anyone else. Me.”

Her head lowered. Hot breath. Red lips parted.

Then she sucked you in deep—way deeper than expected. You cried out, hips bucking, but she slapped your thigh.

“Stay.” Her voice was muffled, but her tone was dangerous.

She bobbed her head—sloppy, nasty, her mascara smudging as she moaned around your cock like she meant it. You watched her tongue coil, watched her drool coat your shaft, watched her eyes roll back every time you throbbed on her tongue.

“F-fuck, Arin, I—”

She pulled off with a pop and slapped your cock against your stomach.

“Not yet. I’m not done ruining you.”

She stripped in front of you like she was putting on a show just for herself—completely shameless.

She climbed over you, gripped your cock, and slowly sank down on it.

No foreplay. No condom.

Just her wet, tight heat engulfing you with one low, satisfied moan.

“Fuck,” she whispered, trembling slightly. “This is what I dreamed about. Every night. Your cock inside me. Owning you. Filling myself with you until your name is only mine.”

She started to ride you—slow, cruelly deep thrusts that made you see stars. Every time you tried to buck, she dug her nails into your chest and held you still.

“Be a good boy. Let mommy do the work,” she whispered, her cunt clenching hard around you.

Her pace grew brutal.

Every thrust was possessive. Every moan came with words that drilled into your mind:

“Mine.”

“No one else gets to touch you.”

“I’ll break every finger that reaches for you.”

“I’ll ruin every woman that looks at you.”

“I’ll lock you up if I have to.”

Your orgasm built too fast, too hot—you tried to warn her, but she grinned through her moans.

“Cum inside. Now. Fill me. Breed me.”

Your hips jerked. Your vision blurred.

You cried out her name as your cock exploded deep inside her, spilling everything you had.

She kept riding.

Milking you. Grinding every drop out.

“I’m gonna make you cum again,” she said breathlessly. “Until it hurts. Until you forget every name but mine.”

And she did.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until your voice was hoarse, your body trembling, your mind fogged with nothing but her scent, her name, her laugh.

When you woke up, your wrists were cuffed to the bedpost.

She was on top of you again, freshly showered, sipping champagne, naked except for a silk robe.

“I called in sick for you,” she said, stroking your hair like you were a pet. “Your boss thinks you caught the flu.”

She kissed your forehead.

“Now… let’s go again, baby. You’re not leaving this bed until I’m pregnant.”

[chrissssssmut]

hi saw u take requests, do u BY ANY CHANCE take requests for self made characters??(smut btw lol help) (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Sure thing! Send it my way and I'll see what I can cook up with it!🙏

[chrissssssmut]

DON'T STOP THERE

Isa x Male Reader

Requested by: @thighsa

tags: anal riding, forced edging, surprise vaginal creampie, breeding kink, lots of dirty talk, overstimulation

It started with late-night study sessions.

You weren’t even close at first. Just classmates with overlapping circles and enough shared silence to be friendly. Isa was sharp—quick to laugh, sarcastic, the type who always made an offhand comment that stuck in your head for hours after. You didn’t think she even knew your name until she said it one night, alone in the library, lips curled around the syllables like she’d been practicing.

“Hey. You gonna keep pretending you don’t stare at me, or are you gonna ask for my number already?”

You blinked over your laptop screen, heart thudding. Her voice was low. Almost amused.

“I—I wasn’t—”

She leaned over the table. Her hoodie slipped off one shoulder. “C’mon. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

That was Isa. Always pushing. Always playing.

One study session turned into two. Then five. Then you were hanging out in your apartment because she claimed the campus library “smelled like wet socks and disappointment.” She was always stretched across your bed in tight biker shorts, pretending to read while you tried not to let your eyes wander.

She noticed every time.

“Don’t be shy,” she teased one night, flipping over onto her stomach, ass in the air, legs kicking lazily. “You’re the one who let me come over like this. You’re the perv.”

“I didn’t—” You swallowed hard. “You said we were gonna study.”

“Oh, baby,” she purred, “I’ve been studying you.”

You should’ve known what she was doing. Isa liked control—liked to watch you squirm. And tonight was no different. She stayed late. Too late. The clock passed midnight and she made no move to leave, only stared at you with that cat-like smile while hugging your pillow to her chest.

“You gonna offer me something to drink or just keep being a terrible host?” she asked.

You stood up automatically, awkward. “Uh, yeah, sure. I have—”

But she followed you into the kitchen.

That was when it happened. The tension had been thick for weeks. You brushed past her and she didn't move. You turned to hand her a drink, and she took it—only to set it on the counter, eyes still on you.

Then she said it.

“Wanna know a secret?”

You froze. “…What kind of secret?”

She stepped in closer, just a few inches away now. Her perfume hit you—sweet vanilla and something heavier. Musky.

“I get so wet when I think about you fucking me in the ass.”

Your brain short-circuited.

She was watching you closely now, lips parted, eyes flicking to your throat, your mouth, the way your jaw clenched.

“I can feel you looking at it every time I wear those little shorts,” she whispered. “You like how tight it is? How soft?”

“I—” Your mouth was dry. “Isa, are you serious right now?”

She leaned in, whispering hot into your ear. “Touch me. Right now.”

You did.

Your hands found her hips before your brain caught up. She gasped—quiet but real—and her back arched just enough for her ass to press against your crotch. You groaned.

“Mmm,” she purred, grinding back. “That’s it. You’ve been hard for me for weeks, haven’t you?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your hand slid down her thigh, gripping her ass—full, round, perfect. She moaned when you squeezed, and again when your fingers slid between her cheeks.

“Fuck—yes, there,” she gasped. “God, I’ve been dreaming about this.”

She turned around and kissed you hard—biting, needy, full of tongue and breathless hunger. Her hands were already tugging your shirt up, dragging her nails across your stomach as she pulled it off.

“Bedroom,” she panted. “Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

She was already naked by the time you got there—sprawled on your bed, legs open, fingers teasing her entrance but not going inside. She smiled lazily.

“Don’t just stand there. Come and get me.”

You knelt between her legs and kissed her thighs first, just to see her squirm. She was wet—soaking, dripping onto your sheets. But she grabbed your hand and dragged it back behind her.

“No,” she breathed. “Don’t you dare start there.”

You hesitated. She locked eyes with you.

“I want it in my ass,” she whispered. “You’re gonna stretch me open and fuck me stupid, baby. That’s all I’ve wanted.”

You moaned like an animal, and she laughed softly.

“Get the lube,” she whispered. “Top drawer.”

You grabbed it with trembling hands.

“Start slow,” she said, face down now, ass high, cheeks spreading as she reached back. “Finger me first. I want to feel every inch.”

You obeyed. Carefully.

Your finger slid in—tight, warm, velvet wrapped in heat. Isa whimpered, clutching your sheets.

“Fuuuck, yes,” she groaned. “More. Give me more.”

You pushed in a second, twisting gently, working her open while she gasped into the pillows. Her thighs trembled.

“You hear that?” she said breathlessly. “That’s how ready I am. I’ve been wet all night just thinking about you using my ass like it’s yours.”

You were leaking now, painfully hard, and she looked back over her shoulder.

“Condom,” she said. “Now.”

Once you rolled it on, she reached between her legs and spread herself wide.

“Fuck me,” she hissed. “Don’t be gentle. I want to cry for you.”

You pushed in slowly. She was tight, impossibly so, and her moan cracked halfway through.

“Ohhh—fuuuuck yes—just like that—”

You bottomed out and froze, panting.

“Don’t stop,” she groaned. “Fucking move, baby—ruin me—”

You pulled out halfway and thrust back in. Her body jolted. She clawed at the mattress, eyes rolling back.

“Ah—ah—yes, yes—harder—fuck—my ass is yours—!”

You gripped her waist and pounded into her, hips slapping against her perfect cheeks, the sound filthy and wet. Isa was a mess beneath you—drooling, moaning, her voice hoarse from how loud she got.

“Oh fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—cumming from my ass—!”

You didn’t stop. Not until she was shaking, writhing, sobbing into the sheets from the overstimulation.

And then she turned around—face flushed, makeup smeared, hair wild.

“Again,” she gasped. “Get behind me again. I wanna be full all fucking night.”

You nodded, dizzy with lust, and she smirked.

“You’re addicted now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer.

You were already grabbing the lube again.

She was on her knees again—sweaty, trembling, flushed red across her cheeks and chest—but that damn look was still in her eyes.

Hungry.

Insatiable.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your cock throbbing, twitching from the last round where you barely held back from cumming inside her tightest hole. Isa reached for you immediately, fingers wrapping around your shaft like it was hers—because tonight, it was.

“Still so hard,” she murmured, running her thumb slowly over your leaking tip. “Mmm… you really didn’t cum for me?”

You shook your head, voice raw. “You told me not to.”

She smirked, eyes full of wicked heat. “Good boy.”

And then—without a word—she got off the bed, turned around, and climbed back up onto your lap, ass first. Her cheeks pressed against your thighs as she leaned forward, arching her back so you could see everything.

Her hole was glistening. Loose. Twitching from being stretched just minutes ago.

“Still open for you,” she whispered, looking back with a sinful little grin. “You’re gonna fill it again, aren’t you?”

You groaned, your hand instinctively going to her waist.

But Isa had other plans.

She reached between her legs and lined you up herself, grinding her ass back against you in slow, agonizing circles, letting the head of your cock press against her sensitive rim. She moaned when it kissed her opening.

“Fucking—ahhh—yes,” she whined, “I can still feel you from before—”

You tried to push forward, but she slapped your thigh with surprising force.

“Nuh-uh. I take it when I want it.”

You froze. Gritted your teeth. She loved that.

Then—inch by inch—she sank down.

Her breath hitched. Her mouth fell open. “Oh my god—”

You felt every nerve fire in your spine as she slowly impaled herself on your cock again, her ass swallowing you with obscene tightness. Her body trembled, her fingers digging into the bedsheets for support as her hole stretched to accommodate you once more.

“Fuuuuck,” she groaned, voice shaking. “So fucking full again—baby, your cock is just perfect in my ass…”

You grunted, hands clutching her waist now, fighting the urge to slam her down completely. She started to ride—slow at first, her cheeks bouncing with every lift and drop, the wet sounds echoing through the room like sin.

You watched her back arch, her muscles tensing with every motion. She was shaking again, her moans getting louder, more desperate.

“Oh god—oh god—so deep—you’re hitting everything—ahh, fuck, I can’t—I can’t stop—”

She looked back, drool on her chin, eyes glassy. “You’re gonna ruin me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you growled, gripping her tighter, finally thrusting up hard. She screamed.

“AHH—YES, FUCK ME—JUST LIKE THAT—”

You took over.

Your hips pounded into her from below, your cock driving deep into her ass, over and over, faster, harder, relentless. Isa was a sobbing mess now, hair clinging to her damp skin, her ass clapping against your thighs as she took every inch.

And she loved it.

“*Yes, yes, yes—fuck me like a toy—*my ass is your toy, baby, I’m your fuckdoll, just keep using it—don’t stop—I don’t care if I scream—make me scream—”

Her hands reached back, spreading her cheeks wider for you. Her moans turned into strangled cries as your cock pounded her faster.

“I can’t—I’m gonna cum again,” she sobbed, voice cracking, “fuck, I’m cumming again from my ass—”

You felt her body spasm. Tighten. Pulse.

And you still didn’t cum.

Your balls were aching, heavy, full. You gritted your teeth as her ass milked your cock like it was trying to drain you dry.

But you held back.

“W-Why aren’t you—” Isa panted, head falling back, “—why aren’t you cumming yet?”

“Because you told me not to,” you said through clenched teeth.

Isa’s jaw dropped. And then she moaned—loudly, shuddering all over.

“Oh fuck—that’s so hot—fuck, I’m gonna ride you again—no breaks—no stopping—”

She climbed off only to flip around, straddling you now, grabbing your cock and lining it up again. Her thighs trembled as she sank down fast this time, her asshole stretching wide to take you whole.

And then she started bouncing. Wild. Desperate.

Her hands clawed your shoulders, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her ass took everything you gave and demanded more.

“Cum?” she gasped. “Do you wanna cum, baby?”

You growled. “Yes.”

Her pussy was leaking onto your stomach now, dripping slick and heat between you two.

“Too bad,” she whispered darkly. “You don’t get to. Not until I say so.”

She clenched her hole around you, grinning through her moans. “And I love watching you suffer.”

Your vision blurred.

Isa’s ass had been wrapped around your cock for what felt like hours.

And she wasn’t slowing down.

Still straddling your lap, she bounced like she was in a fucking trance—hands clinging to your shoulders, sweat dripping down her flushed chest, tits bouncing with every impact of her ass slapping down on your thighs.

Her moans were feral. Desperate. Loud.

And worst of all? You still hadn’t cum.

Every second was a cruel game. Every grind of her hips, every squeeze of her tight hole around your twitching cock—she kept you right there. Right at the edge.

“Still holding back for me?” Isa panted, forehead against yours, her lips curled into a smirk even while her voice cracked from screaming. “You’re such a good boy… letting me fuck the cum out of you but never giving in.”

You were soaked in sweat. Legs trembling. Your cock felt like it was going to burst.

“Fuck,” you growled. “Isa—please—I can’t—”

“You can,” she hissed, grinding down hard. “You will. Not yet. You’re gonna fill me when I say so, not before.”

She lifted herself slowly—agonizingly slow—letting your cock slide out of her tight ass until only the tip remained plugged inside.

She looked down between her legs and moaned at the sight. “Look at that. Your cock’s stretching my hole like it belongs there.”

Then she slammed back down.

You nearly lost it.

“Ohhh fuck—yes—there—there—fuck—” Isa was riding you harder than ever now, her ass swallowing you over and over, clapping down with wet slaps that echoed through the room. Her walls squeezed you relentlessly, her voice turning into nothing but broken cries.

And then she dropped low again, her mouth brushing your ear.

“Wanna cum?” she whispered.

You couldn’t even speak. Your jaw locked, your abs tensed. You were right there—right fucking there—

Isa felt it. She could feel your cock pulsing inside her, your balls tightening, your whole body trembling from holding it in.

And that’s when she did it.

She pulled off.

Completely.

Your cock popped out of her ass with a messy, wet sound, glistening with lube and her fluids, angry and twitching, throbbing in the open air.

“Wait—what are you—” you gasped.

But she was already grabbing your cock and slamming it straight into her pussy.

Raw.

Hot.

Wet.

You cried out—loud—your cock plunging deep into her cunt with a sickening, sinful squelch. Isa arched her back and screamed, her nails digging into your shoulders.

“FUCK—YES—INSIDE ME—NOW—CUM—CUM IN ME—”

You couldn’t stop it.

Your body took over. Your hips thrust up wildly, slamming into her over and over until your cock erupted—pulse after pulse of thick, desperate cum pouring into her soaking pussy.

You were groaning, panting, crushed under the weight of pleasure and confusion and raw bliss.

And Isa?

She was laughing.

Laughing like she just won.

“Ohhh, baby,” she moaned, voice thick with lust, “you came so much inside me—fuck—it’s all dripping into me—so hot, so full…”

You were barely conscious, head tipped back, cock still twitching inside her warmth.

That’s when she leaned in. Her breath hot on your ear.

“…I’m not on the pill.”

Your eyes snapped open.

“What?”

She bit your earlobe.

“I wanted it. I wanted to feel it. Wanted your cum flooding my pussy.” She rolled her hips, groaning softly. “Mmm—there it is—it’s still leaking out of me…”

“Isa—” you choked, mind spinning.

She kissed your neck—slow, almost loving—and whispered:

“You just gave me your babies, didn’t you?”

“You filled me up and now it’s all inside. Swimming. Planting itself deep in me.”

You tried to move—tried to pull out—but she clenched hard around you.

“No,” she breathed, eyes half-lidded. “Stay inside. I wanna feel it. I wanna keep it.”

You were speechless.

She grinned wider.

“Now you’re mine.”

Her hand dragged down your chest, her hips still grinding in lazy circles, letting every last drop of your cum drip deeper inside her.

“I’m gonna make you fuck me again before it leaks out,” she whispered. “And next time? We’re going back to my ass. But when you’re ready to cum…”

She kissed your lips, slow and filthy.

“You’ll finish here again. Where it counts.”

[chrissssssmut]

Tomboy gaeul and yujin x shy reader

NEXT DOOR HEAT

Yujin & Gaeul x Male Reader

It always started the same way.

You stepped out onto your porch to grab the mail, maybe water the plants, maybe get a little sunlight—and there they were. Gaeul and Yujin. Both dressed like they belonged in someone else’s boyband: basketball shorts, tight tanks, caps turned backwards, and grins that made your heart stop.

"Yo, he's out again," Yujin would whistle, elbowing Gaeul.

"Lookin’ all soft again," Gaeul added, licking her lips dramatically. "You sure you’re not just beggin’ for it?"

You never had the guts to respond. Just bowed your head, face burning, gripping the mail like it would save you from drowning. They laughed every time. Not in a cruel way, no—but in a way that told you they knew they had power over you.

And they did.

They were your next-door neighbors. They partied hard, drank harder, and every night you’d hear loud music and even louder moans leaking through the thin walls. You didn’t even know which one of them it was—maybe both. The thought alone kept you up.

That night was different.

It was late—close to midnight—when the doorbell rang. You blinked, still in your hoodie and pajama pants, clutching a hot bowl of instant ramen. You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you opened the door, you nearly dropped the bowl.

Yujin and Gaeul stood there, swaying slightly, cheeks flushed from alcohol. Yujin had ditched her usual snapback, her dark hair falling loose across her forehead. Gaeul’s tank was crooked, collar falling off one shoulder. Both looked warm, drunk, and absolutely too comfortable standing at your door like that.

"Hey, baby," Yujin slurred with a lazy grin.

"Our place is full of throw-up and regrets," Gaeul added, then hiccuped. "Can we crash here? Just tonight?"

You hesitated. "I… uh… your place is right next—"

"Yeah, but we want you," Yujin smirked. “I mean, your couch.”

"...Right," you muttered, stepping aside, cheeks burning. “I can make soup?”

They collapsed onto your couch while you heated up the broth and scrambled for clean blankets. The air was tense—heavier than before—and every time you glanced back at them, you caught them whispering, watching you like wolves at a petting zoo.

Eventually, they quieted down. You set out water, turned off the lights, and retreated to your room.

That peace didn’t last long.

2:13 AM.

A soft knock on your door. Then it cracked open.

Yujin peeked in, one arm leaning against the frame. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, but sharp.

"You awake?"

You sat up instantly. "Y-Yeah."

She walked in without asking, barefoot, tank top riding high over her toned abs. She sat beside you, the bed dipping beneath her weight.

"Couldn't sleep," she murmured. "Too quiet in here. And too damn frustrating."

You blinked. "Frustrating?"

Yujin looked at you, smile curving slow and wicked. "You really don’t get it, huh?"

"...Get what?"

She leaned in, breath tickling your neck. “Me and Gaeul… we always wondered. What you taste like. What kind of noises you make when you lose control.”

Your eyes went wide.

She chuckled. "You’re cute, shy boy. Real cute. Always looking like a kicked puppy when we tease you."

Your heart raced. You were already hard under the sheets, shame curling in your stomach.

Yujin noticed. Of course she did.

“Fuck,” she whispered, biting her lip. “You're already hard, aren’t you? That easy?”

Then she stood, turned toward the door, and called softly, “Gaeul. Get in here.”

Moments later, Gaeul stepped in, rubbing her eyes. “What—Yujin, seriously, it’s like—oh.” Her gaze dropped to your lap. Then she smirked. “Took you long enough.”

They both crawled onto your bed.

You backed up instinctively until your head hit the wall, but it didn’t help. Gaeul was crawling up on your left, Yujin on your right.

“Hey,” Yujin said, tilting your chin with her fingers. “You gonna stop us?”

You swallowed hard.

“…No.”

Gaeul grinned. “Good.”

Yujin didn’t ask for permission. She just grabbed your jaw, firm and possessive, and tilted your head toward her like she was claiming property. Her lips brushed yours once—light, taunting—before she smashed her mouth into you with messy, wet hunger. Her tongue pushed past your lips like it had every right to be there, sliding over yours, slow and slick.

“Mmph—” you whimpered against her mouth, but she just kissed you harder, swallowing every breath like she wanted to suffocate you with lust.

Her hand cradled the back of your head, keeping you still while her other snuck under your shirt, her fingertips grazing your chest like she was memorizing it.

You barely noticed Gaeul slinking beneath the covers until a warm palm wrapped around your cock, stroking you in slow, lazy pumps.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered under her breath, voice rough and low. “He’s already dripping. What a filthy little thing…”

She pulled the covers down and your erection stood tall, flushed red and pulsing, glistening with precum. Gaeul’s mouth curled into a grin.

"Yujin," she said, her voice teasing, "you didn’t tell me he was packing."

Yujin finally pulled away from your lips, breath hot against your cheek, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths. She smirked. "He hides it like a good little virgin."

“I’m gonna ruin this,” Gaeul whispered, and without warning, her mouth engulfed your cock.

Your back arched instantly.

Her lips slid down slow, impossibly slow, inch by inch as she took you in like she wanted to savor your suffering. Her short hair brushed against your thighs, tickling your skin as she worked you in and out of her throat with practiced control. You felt her tongue press flat against the underside, tracing a slick line from base to tip every time she pulled up just to spit on it again.

“S-Stop—wait—” you gasped, fists clenched in the sheets. "I-I can’t—"

Gaeul moaned around your cock, and the vibration sent electricity down your spine.

Yujin chuckled at the sight. She reached down, hooked her thumbs beneath her tank top, and peeled it off in one smooth motion—no bra. Her tits were small but perky, nipples already stiff as she crawled over your chest, straddling you.

“Don’t stop,” she purred, leaning in to lick the edge of your ear. “I wanna hear how wrecked you sound.”

Gaeul popped off your cock with a wet gasp, her lips slick and swollen. “He’s so sensitive… I love it.”

Your entire body trembled as they began stripping you completely. You barely even noticed your hoodie disappearing, your pajama pants tugged down, your boxers tossed aside like trash.

Yujin didn’t waste time. She climbed up to your face and lowered her soaked pussy onto your mouth, hips grinding instantly as she moaned.

“C’mon, baby,” she whispered, fingers curling into your hair. “Eat it. You know you want to.”

You obeyed.

The taste was rich, tangy, intoxicating. She rocked her hips against your tongue, dragging her slick folds across your face like you were just another toy. Her moans were loud, vulgar, with no attempt to be quiet.

Meanwhile, Gaeul went right back to your cock—this time deeper, faster, her throat clenching each time she forced you down. She started using her hand to stroke the base while her mouth focused on the tip, her tongue swirling, teasing the slit.

You were on the edge. You could feel it—the fire pooling low, your toes curling, your breath gone—

But Yujin pulled off.

Gaeul did too.

“Not yet,” Yujin grinned, crawling down your chest. “Now it’s our turn.”

She lifted herself above your cock and grabbed it, guiding it to her entrance. You could feel the heat—how wet she was—before she even began to sink down.

She didn’t go slow.

Yujin slammed down on your cock, crying out as your length filled her. Her pussy clamped around you tight, dripping wet, every inch of her velvety walls dragging on you like a drug.

“Fuuuuuck,” she groaned, throwing her head back. “I knew it—I fucking knew you’d be this good—”

She started riding you instantly, hard and deep, her ass slapping against your thighs. You grabbed her hips out of instinct, trying to steady her, but she leaned forward and slapped your hands away.

“Don’t help,” she smirked. “Just lay there and take it.”

Your mind was blank. Every thrust knocked the breath out of your lungs. She was using your cock like it belonged to her—and in that moment, it did.

Then you heard Gaeul moan beside you, voice rough and needy.

"Don't forget me, baby," she said, spreading her ass wide with two fingers. “You know I like it rougher.”

She reached for her bag—pulling out a bottle of lube, shaking it like a threat.

“Always ready,” she smirked.

Yujin pulled off, panting and red-faced, and gave Gaeul a nod.

“Tag team.”

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Gaeul climbed over you. She coated your cock with lube, stroking it slow, before positioning herself over it.

“Don’t be gentle,” she growled. “Stretch me.”

And with that, she lowered her ass onto your cock, groaning deep in her chest as you sank into her tightest hole. She was clenching, trembling, breath ragged.

“Oh fuck—yes—just like that, stretch it open—”

You could barely move. The pressure was insane—tight, hot, pulsing. Every movement had Gaeul shaking, digging her nails into your chest as she rocked back on you harder.

Yujin crawled back up and leaned in, playing with Gaeul’s tits while she kissed you again—sloppy, wet, tongue dominating yours with every roll of their hips.

“You’re ours now,” Yujin breathed into your mouth. “No more hiding. No more pretending you don’t want this.”

"I-I never—"

"You didn’t have to. Your cock told us everything."

Gaeul came first—her ass squeezing you like a vice, back arched, body shaking as she moaned your name. She didn’t stop moving even as she came, riding you through her orgasm like she wanted to wring every drop out of you.

Then Yujin pushed Gaeul off gently, climbed back on, and took you into her pussy again—even tighter after the break, slick and hungry.

"Fuck me—ruin me—just fuck the cum out of me—"

You did.

Your orgasm exploded—harder than you thought possible—as you came inside her, her pussy milking you while she whispered filth into your ear.

You blacked out for a second. Maybe longer.

In the afterglow, tangled between two warm, naked bodies, you whispered, “So… you’re staying the night again?”

Gaeul chuckled sleepily. “Yeah. And every other night too.”

Yujin kissed your cheek. “Told you. We wanted a taste.”

She grabbed your softening cock and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Next time, we’ll bring our other friends.”

You weren’t going to get any sleep.

And honestly?

You didn’t want any.

[chrissssssmut]

can i request cheater idol wonyoung x male reader whose hopelessly inlove with her, wonyo just wont break up or let go of him but kept on doing him dirty and mc being the lovesick fool he is and kept on forgiving her at first he was so heartbroken by it but then just cant let go of her too so in the end he just pretend he dont notice

YOU KNEW AND STAYED ANYWAY

Wonyoung x Male Reader

tags: angst, cheating, emotional manipulation, denial, poor reader

Your phone vibrates at 1:38 AM.

Again.

It’s her. Of course it’s her.

Wonyoung:

“Open the door. I forgot my keys.”

You stare at the text for longer than necessary. Not because you're surprised she’s coming back this late. You’ve long stopped being surprised. It's the fact that you're still here. Still waiting. Still hoping.

The front door creaks open, and she walks in like she owns the place.

Because she does.

Not the apartment—but you.

“Hey,” she says casually, kicking off her heels like she didn’t just spend the last seven hours God-knows-where with God-knows-who. Her lipstick is slightly smudged. The scent of some foreign cologne clings faintly to her dress.

You don’t ask. You just stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she sighs, brushing past you and heading to the bathroom. “It’s late. I’m tired. Can we not do this tonight?”

Do what, exactly?

You sit back on the couch, chewing the inside of your cheek. Your knuckles are white around your phone. You could ask her. You should ask her. But the words don’t come out. They never do. Because the truth? You already know.

She’s fucking someone else.

Probably more than one person.

And yet—you still love her. God, you love her so much it makes your chest ache.

She returns in a hoodie—your hoodie—and curls up beside you on the couch like nothing’s wrong. Like she didn’t break you again. Like she doesn’t keep breaking you.

“You waiting long?” she mumbles, burying her face in your shoulder.

You hesitate. “...No.”

She hums softly. “You always wait.”

“I always will.”

She doesn’t reply. But the corners of her lips curve up into the smallest, most dangerous smile.

It wasn’t always like this.

Back then—when she was still new to the idol scene and you were still her secret—she looked at you like you were the only person in her world. She'd sneak into your place after practice, laugh about her members' quirks, cook ramen at 3AM, kiss you with ramen breath and her hair in a ponytail.

She used to text you first. She used to ask if you ate. She used to hold your hand under the table during press dinners.

But now?

Now she barely replies. Sometimes you find her liking thirst traps on Instagram at 2AM. Sometimes you catch glimpses of the same guy’s name over and over again on her notifications. And sometimes—on nights when her makeup is too perfect and her perfume is too strong—she comes home too late, too quiet, too satisfied.

You asked her once. Only once.

“Are you seeing someone else?”

She laughed. Not a cute laugh. A cruel one. The kind that told you she knew just how far she could go without losing you.

“Why?” she said. “Would it matter?”

You didn’t answer.

She leaned in, pressed a kiss to your lips, soft and slow. “Thought so.”

You wake up alone. Again.

She’s already gone, her side of the bed cold.

On the kitchen counter is a Post-it. You wonder if it’s an apology. A goodbye. Something meaningful.

But no. It just says:

“Don’t forget to do the laundry :) - W”

Smiley face and all.

You want to scream. Instead, you fold her clothes, cook her lunch for later, and wash the sheets that still smell like her and him.

Because you’re not just her boyfriend anymore. You’re her placeholder. Her doormat. Her background character.

But that’s okay.

If it means she comes home to you—even if it's just to sleep in your bed after fucking someone else—then it’s enough.

You lie to yourself every single day.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Later that night, she walks in like nothing’s changed.

“Did you eat?” she asks, kicking her shoes off.

You nod.

“Good.” She flops down on your bed. “I’m exhausted.”

She doesn't ask if you slept. She never does.

You crawl into bed beside her, pretending you don’t notice the faint red mark on her collarbone. Pretending her lipstick isn’t a different shade than the one she left with this morning. Pretending the name “Minjun” didn’t just pop up on her phone before she flipped it face down.

She turns to you, half-lidded eyes, lazy smile. “Can we cuddle?”

You want to say no.

But instead you open your arms, and she slips into them like nothing ever broke between you.

Like she didn't shatter you into pieces and hand the biggest chunk to another man.

You hold her anyway.

Because it’s easier to hurt quietly than it is to say goodbye.

Weeks pass.

She grows colder. Bolder. Stops lying. Starts coming home less. You don’t even ask anymore. You just know.

But you never leave.

You tell yourself it’s love. That deep down, she loves you too. That someday she’ll change.

She won’t.

One night, after hours of silence, she turns to you in bed and says it flat-out.

“I cheated again.”

No tears. No excuses. No shame.

Just a statement. Like saying the weather’s nice or the sky is blue.

You blink.

She watches you, like she’s testing how far she can bend you before you snap.

But you just smile.

A small, broken, hollow thing.

“I know,” you say softly.

Her eyes narrow. “You knew?”

“I’ve always known.”

A pause.

And then, with a voice too calm for the way your heart is cracking open again:

“But I love you, Wonyoung.”

She doesn’t respond right away.

And then she laughs—quiet, almost incredulous—and kisses you on the forehead.

“You’re insane,” she whispers. “You’re so fucking stupid for loving me.”

You smile, eyes wet, chest hollow.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “I know.”

But you hold her anyway.

And let her break you.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Because to love Wonyoung is to suffer—and you’ve decided it hurts less than letting her go.

WONYOUNG’s POV:

You don’t remember when it stopped being love.

Maybe it was after the first tour.

Maybe after the first guy.

Or maybe it was the first time you realized you could lie to him, and he wouldn’t leave.

That night still plays in your head sometimes.

The taste of another man’s mouth still on your lips, sweat still sticking to your thighs, and him—your boyfriend—opening the door at 2AM like you were just late coming home from the studio.

“Hey,” you said, tossing your heels to the side.

He didn’t ask where you’d been.

He just let you back in.

And that’s when it clicked.

He wasn’t going to leave you.

Ever.

At first, it was guilt.

You'd come home from someone else’s bed and scrub yourself raw in the shower, trying to rinse off the lies. You’d curl up next to him and stare at the ceiling, wondering how the hell you ended up in this mess. You never meant to hurt him.

But he made it so easy.

He’d cook for you, hold you, kiss you like you weren’t full of sin.

Like you were still the girl who used to fall asleep on his chest during movie nights, back when your biggest secret was dating in the first place.

But now?

Now it’s different.

Now you walk into his apartment smelling like another man and wait for him to notice. To yell. To fight.

But he never does.

He just looks at you with those tired, glassy eyes and says, “I love you.”

You wish he wouldn’t.

You thought about breaking up with him. Once. Maybe twice.

But every time you tried, something stopped you.

Was it guilt? Attachment? The convenience of having someone always waiting for you?

Or maybe…

Maybe it was the power.

The way he looks at you—like you’re God and he’s just some pitiful worshipper who can’t stop praying even after the miracles stop. There’s something addictive about it.

You could ruin him.

You are ruining him.

And he just takes it.

Smiling.

Bleeding inside.

Still cooking you breakfast the next morning.

You test the limits. You show up late with smeared lipstick. You “accidentally” leave your phone unlocked. You come home in different outfits than the ones you left in.

He sees everything.

And he says nothing.

Sometimes, you think he wants you to destroy him.

Sometimes, you think you want to see how far he'll fall before he breaks completely.

And sometimes, in the rarest, darkest parts of your heart—you think maybe he already has.

Tonight, it’s worse.

You fucked Minjun in the studio. Didn’t even bother changing your clothes. He didn’t last long, but that’s fine. It’s never about the sex anyway. It’s about proving you can.

You unlock the door to the apartment and see the lights off. Just the soft glow of the bedroom lamp slipping beneath the door.

He's already in bed.

You move quietly. Not because you’re afraid to wake him, but because part of you wonders if he’ll even care you’re home.

He doesn’t turn around when you slip under the covers. Doesn’t ask where you’ve been. Just lies there, facing the wall, silent.

You stare at his back for a long time, the heat of his body an arm’s length away. Close, but distant.

And suddenly—you don’t know why—you say it.

“I cheated again.”

Your voice cuts the air like a razor. Cold. Honest. Final.

You expect him to stiffen. To sit up. To scream.

But he doesn’t move.

“I know,” he says softly, still not facing you.

You blink.

You knew?

“I’ve always known.”

He rolls to face you then, eyes tired but not angry. Just... defeated.

And when he says, “I love you, Wonyoung,” you want to punch him for it. Or cry. Or disappear.

Instead, you laugh. It comes out bitter. Mean.

“You’re insane,” you whisper. “You’re so fucking stupid for loving me.”

He just smiles.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I know.”

And then he opens his arms.

And you go to him.

Again.

Because for all the people you could sleep with, for all the lies you’ve told and the games you play, this boy—this broken boy—still chooses you.

And maybe that’s why you keep coming back.

Because if he can’t stop loving you…

Then you never have to admit you don’t love him back the same way.

[chrissssssmut]

Can you do a smut of Jennie and Jisoo where they are y/n teacher and they have sex in the classroom after class?

The girls are g!p and the dominant ones

DETENTION IS NEEDED

G!P Jennie & G!P Jisoo x Male Reader

AN: Hope you like this quick story anon!

[CLASSROOM – 4:57 PM]

You were the last student in the room, staring blankly at your half-finished worksheet. Everyone else had already packed up and left once the bell rang. You should’ve gone too, but… Miss Kim and Miss Kim—Jennie and Jisoo—had asked you to “stay behind.”

The classroom lights had already dimmed slightly with the late afternoon sun dipping beyond the windows, casting long golden streaks across the desks.

You shifted in your seat.

You knew this wasn’t really about homework.

“Still stuck on question nine?” Jisoo’s voice rang out like silk as her heels clicked against the tile. She circled your desk slowly, her arms crossed, that same teasing smile curling at the corner of her lips.

“You’ve been staring at the same line for ten minutes,” Jennie added. She leaned on the desk beside you, close—too close. Her perfume hit first: something floral and clean and impossible to ignore.

You swallowed, hard. “…I, uh… yeah.”

Jisoo crouched beside your seat, bringing her face level with yours. “Maybe we’ve been too lenient with you lately, hmm? Letting you hand things in late, pretending we don’t notice the way you stare during lectures.”

Jennie smirked, brushing her fingers down your shoulder. “Or maybe… you want us to notice.”

Your heart thudded like a war drum. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Mm-mm.” Jennie pressed a single finger to your lips. “Don’t lie.”

Jisoo stood again, brushing invisible lint off her tailored skirt. Her voice dropped an octave. “We’ve seen the way you shift in your seat when we lean over your desk.”

Jennie’s hand trailed down your arm as she tilted her head. “Do you get hard in class for both of us, or just me?”

Your face burned red hot. “I—please…”

Jisoo raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, he’s begging already.”

“You haven’t even seen us be mean yet, sweetheart,” Jennie cooed, tugging your chair back from the desk. “Stand up.”

You obeyed—shaky legs, flushed face, mind spiraling.

Jennie stepped behind you and hooked her arms around your chest. Jisoo walked forward and unbuttoned the top of her blouse. Neither woman was in a rush. They toyed with you, watched your every breath.

“I always wondered what you’d sound like begging,” Jisoo murmured, now pushing you gently backward until you were pressed up against Jennie’s body.

“I wonder how loud we can make him,” Jennie added, one hand already sliding down your torso, lower, slower, like gravity itself bent around her.

That’s when it happened.

The sound of a zipper.

Then another.

You blinked in confusion as both women stepped back slightly, only for you to see it: the bulges between their legs, thick and heavy and undeniably hard—strapped, solid, and commanding attention.

Your mouth went dry.

“Oh,” was all you managed.

Jisoo chuckled darkly. “There it is. That pretty little face of yours. Didn’t think your teachers were packing, did you?”

Jennie grinned. “He looks like he’s about to drop to his knees.”

Jisoo tugged you by the tie, pulling you closer. “Then let him.”

You dropped before you could think. Your knees hit the tile with a soft thud. Jennie stepped in front of you first, undoing her belt, her strap thick and veiny, already slicked with lube. She tapped it on your lips.

“Open.”

You hesitated, staring up at her with wide, glazed eyes.

Jisoo crouched beside you again, gripping your chin. “We told you not to lie. So now you’re gonna make it up to us with that mouth. You’re not leaving this classroom until you choke on both of us.”

“Yes, ma’am…”

Jennie smirked. “Good boy.”

Her cock pushed past your lips before you could inhale. It was thick—your jaw already ached—and Jennie didn’t give you time to adjust. She rolled her hips slowly, holding your head in place as she fucked your mouth like she owned it.

“You’re drooling already,” Jisoo whispered, rubbing your cheek with her thumb. “That’s so fucking cute.”

You gagged, eyes watering, but Jennie just moaned and pushed deeper, hips rolling in a slow, teasing rhythm.

“Don’t pull away. That’s right—tongue under. There you go, baby.”

She groaned when you finally stopped resisting and relaxed your throat around her. Your nose was buried in her soft skin, her fingers tugging on your hair.

Then she pulled out, letting you gasp for air.

“His lips are so pretty when they’re ruined,” Jennie purred, stepping back. “Your turn, Soo.”

Jisoo didn’t wait. Her strap slid into your mouth easily—slick from the lube she’d stroked on earlier. But unlike Jennie, she wasn’t gentle.

“Throat open. Now.”

She fucked your face faster, more commanding, and the way she groaned under her breath sent a shiver down your spine.

“God, look at him,” Jennie whispered beside you, stroking herself lazily while watching Jisoo use you. “He’s fucking melting.”

“I bet he’s hard in his pants,” Jisoo growled, snapping her hips harder into your mouth. “Touch yourself.”

You hesitated again.

Jennie slapped your cheek—not hard, just enough to shock you. “We said touch yourself.”

Your hand scrambled down to your pants, unzipping shakily as Jisoo moaned above you.

“You’re gonna cum for us without even being fucked yet,” Jennie whispered against your ear. “Just from sucking our cocks like a needy little toy.”

You whined pathetically, stroking yourself with one hand while Jisoo fucked your throat raw. You were drooling, moaning, tears running down your face—and they loved it.

They loved it.

“Stand up,” Jennie finally commanded, voice husky.

You staggered to your feet, pants halfway down, cock dripping.

Jisoo walked behind you and pressed her body close—her cock rubbing against your ass.

Jennie leaned in front, kissing your neck, voice like honey. “Who do you want to fuck you first, sweetheart?”

“I—I don’t know—”

“You don’t have to know,” Jisoo growled. “We’ll decide for you.”

And with that, you were bent over the teacher’s desk.

Jisoo’s cock pushed inside first—slow, stretching, full. You choked on your own moan. Jennie stood in front, one leg up on the desk beside you, her cock stroking your lips again.

“You’re gonna take both of us tonight,” Jennie murmured, brushing your hair from your forehead. “We’re not stopping until you forget your own name.”

Jisoo snapped her hips forward. You gasped.

“Louder,” she growled, thrusting again. “Let everyone in this building know how your teachers fuck you.”

You moaned around Jennie’s cock.

The rhythm built fast—Jisoo pounding into you from behind, Jennie using your mouth like a toy—and all you could do was take it.

Your vision blurred. Your muscles shook. You could barely breathe with Jennie filling your throat and Jisoo stretching you open from behind.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Jennie whispered, pulling back just long enough to let you moan openly. “Beg. Beg for permission.”

You whimpered. “P-please… let me cum…”

“Louder,” Jisoo barked, slapping your ass.

“Please! Please let me cum—I can’t hold it—!”

Jennie grabbed your chin. “Cum when we say. Not a second sooner.”

They kept going—harder, faster, sloppier. Sweat, skin, the slap of bodies against bodies. Jennie finally moaned loud, then pulled your head to her cock again. “Now. Be a good boy and cum while we ruin you.”

Your orgasm ripped through you like lightning.

Your knees buckled. You spilled yourself all over the desk, moaning, choking, trembling, twitching.

Jisoo kept fucking you through it.

Jennie groaned and shoved herself deep one last time in your mouth as your throat clenched instinctively.

Then silence.

Breathing.

The heavy, satisfied weight of being absolutely destroyed.

Jisoo pulled out first, kissing your neck gently. “You did good.”

Jennie grinned, wiping your lips clean. “You’ve earned detention for the rest of the week.”

[chrissssssmut]

REWARDED

Yunjin, Lisa, Danielle, Ryujin, Winter, Liz & Bae x Male Reader

AN: Decided to do something I've been wanting to do for a while now! Don't worry y'all, I'm still working on the requests!🙏💞

AN 2: The smut here becomes a bit more detailed as you read on!

The soft chime of the elevator echoed faintly through the marble-lined lobby, its sound swallowed by the cold sterility of early morning.

You barely looked up.

Your steps were heavy, the leather of your worn dress shoes barely making a sound against the polished floor. The lobby lighting was too bright for how little sleep you’d had, the sterile overhead glow piercing through the lingering fog of another sleepless night.

You dragged yourself into the elevator.

No one else was around. Just you and the numb quiet that had followed you for days.

The doors slid shut behind you with a soft hiss, sealing you inside the cool steel box. The quiet hum of machinery started almost immediately, and the elevator began its climb.

You exhaled—deep and slow—rubbing the back of your neck.

Your fingers lingered at the base of your skull, massaging dull tension. You hadn’t even bothered with your usual hair gel today. Your tie was half-loosened. The white collar of your shirt, wrinkled. You were a shell.

Your reflection in the elevator’s mirrored panel looked like someone on autopilot. A normal guy in a white shirt and black slacks. A name tag clipped to your belt. The faint outline of dark circles under your eyes.

The fallout from last weekend still clung to your chest like a heavy, wet coat.

You hadn’t cried. You hadn’t screamed. There wasn’t even anger left—just that hollow, sour ache that sat under your ribs like a bruise you couldn’t press.

You caught your girlfriend cheating.

Not a suspicion. Not a hunch.

You saw it.

On her phone. In her texts. In the pictures. In the messages she forgot to delete because maybe she thought you weren’t worth the trouble anymore.

That moment replayed in your head on loop. The disbelief. The way your body locked up. The words she threw at you after. The laughter. The silence.

Now?

Now you were just surviving.

Go to work. Smile for the manager. Answer emails. Numb out. Survive.

The elevator passed the third floor. The hum of the cables vibrated faintly through your shoes.

You stared at the numbers as they lit up.

Ding.

The fourth floor.

You blinked slowly.

The doors parted—and in stepped Winter.

Her soft white cardigan clung to her like fresh snow, and her eyes—cool, piercing—met yours immediately. You gave her a tired smile, nodded politely.

She didn’t speak. She just stepped inside with a soft click of her boots and stood near the opposite wall, eyes flickering once more in your direction before shifting to the panel.

Ding.

Fifth floor.

Liz entered—quiet, composed, wrapped in a lavender blouse, her arms cradling a folder. Her gaze softened when it met yours. Almost… too soft.

You gave a small wave, almost embarrassed. She smiled back.

The air felt warmer.

You didn’t notice the way Liz’s eyes lingered on your disheveled collar.

Ding.

Sixth floor.

Ryujin.

She swaggered in with a coffee in hand, hips rolling, jacket slung casually over one shoulder. She gave you a single raised brow and an amused smirk. You tried to smile again.

She eyed you once, then glanced toward Liz and Winter. Something flickered behind her eyes.

Ding.

Seventh floor.

Bae and Danielle.

They stepped in together, laughing about something—until they saw you. The laughter faded. Not awkward. Not uncomfortable.

Just… observing.

Danielle leaned in to whisper something to Bae. You didn’t hear it. You didn’t need to.

Ding.

Eighth floor.

Yunjin and Lisa.

Tall. Radiant. Confident.

They stepped inside with the air of someone who owned every room she walked into. Their perfume hit you in waves—warm vanilla, clean musk. They both gave you a long look.

Then Lisa smiled—small, knowing.

You swallowed.

Seven women. One man.

The elevator doors closed again. No one reached for the panel. The ascent continued.

Your heart started to beat faster.

Not out of excitement. Not yet.

Just… confusion. Tension.

You tried not to overthink it.

Until the elevator jolted—just once—and came to a slow, unnatural stop.

The lights dimmed. A soft red glow flickered on from the emergency panel overhead.

There was a beat of silence.

Then…

A voice crackled from the radio above:

“Apologies. System malfunction. Maintenance has been alerted. Please remain calm. Estimated wait time: three to four hours.”

A stunned silence followed.

You turned to the others, hands out, apologetic. “Uh—guess we’re stuck for a bit.”

But no one looked concerned.

Not even a little.

Lisa stepped forward.

You hadn’t even seen her come in. She must’ve entered while you were spiraling inside your head.

She was standing now near the panel, blazer off, shirt rolled at the sleeves, eyes fixed directly on you with something cold and controlled behind them.

“Don’t worry,” she said, voice smooth, velvet-wrapped steel.

Her next words chilled and aroused you all at once.

“It’s not a malfunction. I planned this.”

You stared. “What?”

Lisa turned to face you, arms crossed, one hip cocked, her smile sharp.

“We know about your girlfriend. About what she did.”

You blinked. “…You what—?”

Danielle giggled behind you. Bae let out a soft hum. Yunjin leaned into the far wall, watching you like a cat waiting for a trapped mouse to notice the cage.

Winter finally spoke.

“You’ve been a good man. She didn’t deserve you.”

Your lips parted—no sound.

Lisa stepped closer. “And since she threw you away…”

She trailed her fingers down the front of your shirt.

“We decided to give you what she never could.”

The other girls closed in slowly—circling you, like shadows drawing toward a flame.

Each of their eyes glittered with hunger. Each breath they took was deeper. Warmer.

Liz’s voice was soft as she came up beside you. “We’ve been waiting for you to be ours.”

Danielle leaned into your other side, whispering hotly near your ear, “You’ve been working so hard. Don’t you want a reward?”

The elevator wasn’t a trap.

It was an offering.

And you—heart pounding, body tensing, surrounded by eight impossibly beautiful women—were the only prize.

It began slow.

Lisa kissed you first—hungry, controlled, owning your mouth as your pants were tugged down. She pushed you onto the elevator floor and straddled you, pulling her panties aside.

“You’ll give me the first creampie,” she declared, grinding down onto your stiffening cock. “CEO privilege.”

You moaned into her neck, her walls tight, squeezing, pulsing. She fucked you with full confidence, hips circling, hands gripping your face as she rode you hard.

The others watched. Whispered.

“He’s already moaning,” Bae teased.

“Lisa’s breaking him in too well,” Liz said, her hand disappearing between her legs.

Lisa fucked the first load out of you, just like that—riding you until you gasped and spilled inside her, your body shaking. She leaned in and whispered, “That’s one. Let’s see how many more you can handle.”

Winter was next.

Cold hands. Cold stare. But god, her mouth was sinful.

She went down on you while Lisa leaned against the wall and panted, full of cum. Winter was methodical. Slow licks. Precise swirls. Her tongue traced your slit, teased the head. She made you beg. Suckled your overstimulated tip until you whimpered.

“Still so sensitive,” she whispered, letting a string of spit trail from her lips to your cock. “I’m not even close to done.”

She stroked you, then slowly slid herself down on your cock, her tight heat wrapping around your already-sore shaft. You groaned—already on edge.

“Hold it,” Ryujin warned from the corner. “We want to see how long you last for Liz.”

Winter rode you like ice melting over fire—sharp thrusts, short gasps, hips clapping down again and again until you couldn’t hold it. You came again, body shuddering, vision blurred.

She smiled. “Good boy.”

Liz crawled to you on all fours, licking the mess off your shaft before kissing you, tasting everything. She was quiet, but her actions screamed hunger.

She rode you like she needed you—hips rolling slow, deep, sensual.

“You’re so warm,” she whispered, kissing your throat. “Fill me up too. Please. I want to feel it leak down my thighs.”

Her slow pace built your climax like a ticking bomb, each thrust driving you mad. She whispered praises, nuzzled against you while you bucked up into her.

When you came, she gasped—face flushed, lips trembling. “That’s it… let me have it good boy.”

Then Bae.

Bae straddled your face while Danielle guided your cock into her mouth.

Cock sharing.

You couldn’t even moan properly—Bae was grinding her wet pussy on your tongue while Danielle choked herself on your dick, eyes rolled back, tears streaming.

Danielle fucked her throat on you, gagging and moaning while Bae cried out above, riding your tongue like she owned it.

“God, you taste so good,” Bae whimpered, hands in your hair. “Fuck, eat me—eat me—!”

You came in Danielle’s mouth—sudden, messy, groaning into Bae’s folds.

Danielle swallowed all of it. Bae made you lick her clean.

You were seeing stars.

Ryujin didn’t wait.

She sat on your cock while slapping your chest. “Fucking take it. Don’t go soft now.”

She fucked you rough. Hard. Her nails scratched. Her voice taunted.

“Bet she never rode you like this. Bet she never made you feel wanted.”

You could barely keep your eyes open—but Ryujin rode you into overstimulation, forcing another load out of you while the others watched you break.

Danielle mounted you last.

Gentle. Sweet. She kissed you as she guided herself down.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’ll go slow.”

She didn’t.

Her softness was a trap. Her pussy clenched like a vice. She milked you for every drop, grinding her hips slowly until you cried out her name. She kissed you through your orgasm, moaning as you filled her.

You lost track of time.

How long you were in that elevator. How many times you came. How many lips kissed you. How many hands touched you.

When the elevator lights flickered back on, they all fixed their skirts, wiped their lips, cleaned their fingers.

As if nothing happened.

Lisa patted your face. “You’ve been rewarded, sweetheart.”

The door slid open.

Everyone stepped out one by one, perfectly composed.

You were left alone, panting, trembling, shirt halfway open, pants barely on.

And Lisa’s voice echoed back as she walked away—

“See you in a few days, baby.”

Two days after the elevator incident.

You were back at work.

Kind of.

Because despite your attempts to play normal, to act like nothing had happened between you and the seven most dangerous women in the company, it was impossible to forget how each of them used your body like it was the last cock on Earth.

Every shift since then, you felt their eyes on you. Touches that lingered. Glances that smoldered. Smirks that knew. You were constantly hard. Constantly remembering.

Then came the message.

From: Lisa (CEO)

Subject: Private Meeting

Time: 9:00 PM

Location: Executive Boardroom

Attendees: Yunjin, Winter, Danielle, Ryujin, Liz, Bae, You

You stared at the screen. Heart pounding.

That night.

You walked into the dark boardroom, tie loosened, pulse racing. The blinds were drawn. The table was cleared. The lights were dim.

They were already there.

Yunjin sitting on the edge of the table, legs crossed. Winter flipping her pen lazily between her fingers. Danielle twirling her hair. Ryujin licking her lips, staring. Liz quietly sipping tea. Bae biting her lip, eyeing your bulge.

Lisa stood at the head of the table in a tight black dress, arms crossed.

“Close the door,” she said.

You did.

She turned and smiled. “Meeting is called to order.”

“Meeting?” you asked, voice already trembling.

Lisa walked over and traced a finger down your chest. “You didn’t think the elevator would be the last time we got to have you, did you?”

Yunjin purred. “You’ve been walking around here like nothing happened. It’s driving us insane.”

“Fuck your ex for giving you up,” Ryujin muttered.

“We want to remind you,” Danielle added sweetly, stepping closer. “That you’re ours now.”

Lisa leaned into your ear. “Strip. We don’t have all night.”

You obeyed.

Shirt off. Belt undone. Pants sliding down. Cock already half-hard, twitching in anticipation.

Liz smiled softly. “God, I missed that already.”

Your legs hadn’t even fully steadied beneath you when Danielle stepped forward with a slow, swaying stride—eyes locked onto your cock like it was her personal prize.

And right behind her, Bae followed, licking her lips with a mischief that made your chest tighten.

“Before the others start breaking you again,” Danielle purred, voice laced with syrup, “We’re going to soften you up a little.”

“Mm,” Bae added, fingers already dragging along your thigh. “You look so full already. Let us taste.”

Danielle’s hands slid along your hips, pressing gently as she coaxed you back into the chair. “Sit. Don’t think. Just let us enjoy you.”

You sat down, breath shaky, and your cock stood tall—glistening, still pulsing, already hard again from their voices alone.

Danielle dropped to her knees first, adjusting her black skirt as she nestled between your legs. Bae dropped next to her, brushing her long dark hair behind her ear, her wide eyes full of hunger.

Danielle leaned in first—close enough for her breath to ghost over your shaft. Her tongue flicked out, giving the tip a single slow lick. Then she pulled back and smiled.

“Mmm. Still leaking.”

Bae leaned in beside her. “Let me try.”

Her tongue joined Danielle’s—slick, soft—lapping at your slit like it was syrup. She hummed low in her throat, like she was tasting wine. “God, he’s sweet.”

Then Danielle flattened her tongue and gave one long, slow stroke from base to tip—making you groan. Bae followed, licking the other side.

“Let’s make him messy,” Danielle whispered.

And then they both went in.

Two tongues. One cock.

They kissed around your shaft, licking opposite sides—trading off, alternating swirls and sucks. One would suck on your tip while the other licked the underside. Then they’d switch. Your cock throbbed between their mouths, covered in spit, their lips shining.

“Look how red he’s getting,” Bae giggled, kissing your tip. “He’s already twitching.”

“I love when it pulses like that,” Danielle whispered, wrapping her lips around the head and sucking with obscene, wet pressure. “Means he’s trying to hold back.”

Bae slid down to your balls, cupping them in one hand and slowly licking over them like melting ice cream.

“Oh my god—” you gasped, hips jerking slightly.

Danielle pulled off with a loud pop, smirking. “Mm-mm. No thrusting. Just sit back and let us wreck you.”

She leaned back in, and both girls began sliding their tongues along your length at the same time—meeting in the middle, mouths nearly kissing on your cock.

And then they did.

Danielle took your head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as Bae latched onto your shaft and started sucking along the side. Their lips met. Their tongues brushed.

You groaned, your cock aching, coated in spit and attention.

“He’s dripping again,” Bae muttered. “Right here—”

She kissed the slit, licked up the clear fluid, and sucked the tip greedily before Danielle pushed her aside playfully.

“Greedy,” she teased. “He’s all of ours tonight.”

“I’m just warming him up,” Bae said, and without warning, she shoved her mouth down half your length, gagging slightly—but not stopping.

Your eyes rolled back.

Her throat clenched.

Then Danielle joined her—licking the exposed inches, kissing her lips around your cock, whispering, “You look so fucking pretty like this, Bae…”

And then you felt it—

Both of them.

Bae sucking your cock deep, messy and noisy, while Danielle licked and slathered the rest with slow, worshipful strokes, moaning with every lap.

“Let’s make him cum like this,” Danielle whispered. “Don’t stop until he begs.”

You couldn’t even form words.

Your cock throbbed violently. Your balls tightened. Your stomach clenched.

“I—I can’t—” you gasped.

Danielle grinned. “Yes, you can.”

“Let it go, baby,” Bae added, mouth full, bobbing harder, her cheeks hollowing around you.

You bucked—

And came.

Hard.

With a loud, helpless moan, you exploded into Bae’s mouth—your entire body jolting. She moaned around your cock as your cum spilled onto her tongue, some of it leaking out the corners of her mouth, dribbling down to her chin.

Danielle wasted no time—leaning in to kiss Bae deeply, licking the mess off her lips and chin, humming in satisfaction as she tasted you.

“Fuck,” Bae exhaled, pulling off with a breathless smile. “That’s a good mouthful…”

Danielle licked your softening tip, collecting every last drop. “You taste like you needed that.”

And before you could even respond, the two of them rose to their feet—smirking, eyes still dark with hunger.

Bae whispered as she walked past you, her finger trailing under your chin—

“Let’s see how many times you can break tonight.”

Winter was next.

No words. Just her pulling the zipper of her white dress down in one fluid motion, letting the fabric fall to her ankles like it weighed nothing. She stepped out of it in lace-black lingerie—no bra, just sheer panties that clung to her curves like a second skin.

“Get on the table,” she said softly, her voice cool, calm, and dangerous.

You hesitated.

Winter climbed onto the edge of the long, polished boardroom table herself—her hips rolling with every step. She lay back, legs bending open with confident grace, spreading herself for you as she crooked her finger.

“Come ruin me.”

Your cock, still wet and twitching from Danielle and Bae’s double blowjob, throbbed to full hardness at the sight of her glistening folds, the tiny wet patch on her panties impossible to miss.

She hooked her thumbs under the waistband and slid them down—slowly. Deliberately. Exposing everything.

“Don’t just stand there,” she whispered. “I want you inside me before I start begging.”

You stepped between her legs, your cock sliding through her wetness as you rubbed yourself along her slit. She was soaked—hot, silky, practically pulling you in with her heat.

When you finally pushed in, Winter arched her back with a soft moan, her arms folding above her head, breasts rising as she gasped—

“God… finally…”

You buried yourself in her slowly. Inch by inch. Her walls hugged you like a glove, pulsing with every breath she took.

You leaned over her, kissing her neck, her jaw, as you began to thrust. Slow. Deep.

Her hands found your back, nails raking down your skin as her breath caught in her throat. “You fuck so well,” she whispered into your ear. “Like you were made for this.”

Your hips snapped forward harder, and she gasped, legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper.

“I knew you’d feel like this,” she moaned. “I knew she didn’t deserve you. That dumb bitch didn’t even know what she had—fuck—”

Your pace quickened. The sound of your hips slapping against her thighs echoed across the boardroom, slick, rhythmic, filthy. Winter moaned under you, her fingers digging into your shoulders, her lips brushing yours as she spoke between breaths.

“Every time I saw you in that stupid office shirt—every time you smiled at me in the break room—I thought about this. About riding you on this table.”

Her pussy clamped tighter, her walls fluttering as her voice dropped lower.

“But I want more.”

Winter suddenly reached down and spread her ass with both hands, exposing the tight star of her hole to you, still glistening with slick from where your cock had just been.

“Put it in my ass,” she whispered, voice trembling with need. “I want you deeper.”

Everything stopped for a beat.

You blinked. Your cock pulsed.

Then you nodded.

Spitting into your palm, you stroked yourself, slicking your shaft, your tip brushing gently over her asshole. She held herself open, breath stuttering, anticipation dripping off every inch of her.

And then you pushed.

Slow.

Tight.

Her breath caught as the head of your cock breached her entrance. Her eyes fluttered shut, mouth opening in a silent cry. “Y-Yes… f-fuck…”

You moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. Every inch pushed deeper into her tightest heat. Her body trembled underneath you as you bottomed out.

“Oh my god…” she groaned, biting her lip. “You’re fucking me… you’re really—fuck—it feels so full…”

Your hands gripped her hips. Your thighs smacked against her ass with every stroke. The table creaked beneath you, her body jostling with every powerful thrust.

She was shaking—every sound she made muffled into her arm, her hand now clutching the table’s edge like her life depended on it.

“She’s taking it so well,” you heard Yunjin whisper behind you, voice thick with lust.

Liz answered softly, “Look at her. He’s ruining her ass…”

You grabbed Winter’s legs, pushing them back, spreading her even wider as you pounded into her harder. Her moans turned to cries. Her hole stretched around your cock, still twitching, still tight.

Then, her voice cracked.

“B-Back in my pussy,” she gasped, eyes glassy, lips swollen. “Put it back… I want to feel you dripping out of me.”

You pulled out with a wet, obscene pop—her hole gaping slightly as your cock dripped with the slick mess of her arousal and your spit.

She reached down, rubbed her fingers through her pussy, pulled her lips apart.

“Slide back in—don’t make me wait.”

You didn’t.

You slid into her soaked pussy once again, and the sensation was unreal—your shaft, still warm and stretched from her ass, now plunged into her wet heat, her walls hugging you greedily.

“F-FUCK—” she cried, hands flying to your back. “I can feel it, god, you’re dripping inside me, your cock is so—so—fill me—”

You couldn’t hold back.

Your thrusts turned erratic, desperate, your cock swelling inside her, her legs tightening around you. She clung to you, mouth to your neck, moaning with every breath—

“Cum in me. Cum in my pussy. I want to feel you flood me.”

You gasped—one final thrust—and spilled inside her. Hot. Thick. Endless.

You filled her up, every pulse buried deep as Winter trembled underneath you, her own orgasm hitting as her pussy milked you, clenching around every twitch.

She held you close, gasping, breath warm against your skin. You stayed there—locked, pulsing, twitching—until her fingers traced lazy circles on your back.

And she whispered, still breathless—

“…She never made you feel like this, did she?”

Before you even had time to recover from Winter’s raw heat, a sharp tug on your wrist yanked you up from the chair.

Ryujin.

Eyes like fire. Smirk like sin.

“You’re not getting a fucking break,” she growled, pushing you backwards until your knees hit the edge of another chair. “Sit. Now.”

You obeyed, breath catching.

She dropped to her knees in front of you, her black crop top rising just enough to show off her toned stomach. Without a word, she leaned in and spat directly on your cock—slow, messy, loud. Her spit dripped down your shaft in heavy strands, joining the lingering slickness left behind by the girls before her.

“Still this hard after being drained three times?” Ryujin said, eyebrows raised. She reached out, gripping your cock with one hand and giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. “Guess we’ve only just started breaking you.”

You moaned, hips twitching, your cock pulsing in her grip.

She smirked. “Oh, you’re gonna fucking cry for me.”

And then she stood.

Without any teasing, she peeled off her top, letting it fall to the floor—her bare breasts bouncing gently as she shook her hair out of her face. Then, licking both her palms slowly and exaggeratedly, she pressed her slick hands to the sides of her breasts, leaned down, and sandwiched your cock between them.

“Oh fuck—” you hissed as her soft flesh wrapped around your shaft perfectly.

“Yeah?” she purred, slowly sliding her chest up and down, spitting again on your tip so the glide was even filthier. “Bet that fucking ex of yours never even tried this.”

She started slow—tight pressure, gliding your cock up and down between her breasts, the head poking out at the top every time she slid down. Each time it peeked out, she’d flick her tongue against it.

“Mm, fuck, I love the way you twitch every time I do that,” she murmured.

You threw your head back, mouth slack, completely overwhelmed.

Her pace quickened, her tits slapping softly against your thighs with each bounce. You could feel your orgasm building again—insane, impossible, but real.

Then she leaned down further, letting your cockhead slide past her lips.

The heat of her mouth wrapped around your tip. Her tongue swirled as she kept your shaft pressed tight between her breasts.

“Oh my god…” you groaned, hips bucking.

But Ryujin wasn’t done.

She pulled her mouth off with a wet pop, wiped the spit from her lips, and looked up at you—eyes daring, voice rough.

“Grab my head.”

You hesitated. She growled.

“Do it. Show me how fucking desperate you are.”

Your hands tangled in her hair.

She opened her mouth wide.

You thrust—once. Twice.

Then all of you was gone.

Buried in her throat.

She gagged, but didn’t back away. Her throat flexed around your cock, her tongue flattening as you began to fuck her face—hard, fast, desperate. Drool spilled down her chin. Her eyes watered. But she moaned.

She moaned.

She pulled back to breathe for a second, coughing, strings of spit connecting your tip to her tongue.

“Fuck,” she rasped, eyes wild. “Use me. Like she never let you. Like I’m your fucktoy.”

You didn’t need more encouragement.

You slammed back into her mouth, fucking her face while her tits bounced between her arms. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, nails digging in as she let you use her however you wanted—eyes locked to yours the entire time, like she dared you to go harder.

You felt it building—deep, urgent, brutal.

“I’m gonna—” you gasped.

Ryujin grinned with your cock buried in her throat, her hands pulling you deeper.

You came.

Hard.

Down her throat, pulse after pulse, filling her mouth with everything you had left. She didn’t pull away. She swallowed—loud, exaggerated, eyes fluttering shut like she was savoring every drop.

When you finally pulled out, cock twitching, she coughed once and wiped her lips, licking the mess from her hand.

She looked up at you, spit-shined and glowing, and said with a breathless, cocky smirk—

“Goddamn… I’d quit this job if it meant I could suck your cock full-time.”

And then she turned, sauntered back to her chair, and sat down topless—legs crossed, cum in her throat, like nothing ever happened.

The others stepped back.

Liz didn’t rush in. She didn’t pounce.

She rose from her seat slowly, silently, like a ghost gliding across the room. The soft pad of her heels echoed gently in the boardroom’s silence as she approached you—still breathless, legs weak from being passed between three hungry bodies.

Her eyes stayed locked to yours. Soft. Intense. Glowing with something deeper.

She stopped in front of you, her hands delicately reaching for the hem of her pale-blue blouse. Without a word, she began to undo each button—slowly, methodically—revealing smooth porcelain skin and the delicate swell of her chest, framed in simple black lace. When the shirt slipped off her shoulders and hit the ground, your breath hitched.

She didn’t need to say anything. Her eyes were full sentences.

Liz climbed onto your lap, one knee on each side of your thighs, moving with slow, practiced grace. The others had taken what they wanted. She was giving something else.

Her fingers brushed over your cheeks, tilting your face up. And then she kissed you—soft, slow, deep. Her lips molded against yours like she’d kissed you a hundred times before in a dream. Her tongue gently swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you before she deepened it, moaning faintly into your mouth.

“Shh…” she whispered against your lips, her voice delicate but firm. “Let me take care of you…”

You nodded, eyes hazy.

She reached between you, taking your still-slick cock into her hand, stroking it slowly—not to arouse, but to comfort. Her thumb traced your slit, collecting what little was still leaking out.

“You’ve been so good for us,” she whispered. “So patient. So generous.”

Lifting herself just enough, Liz guided you toward her entrance. The heat of her was immediate—soaking, soft, pulsing. She rubbed your tip up and down her folds, coating you in her arousal.

And then, inch by inch, she sank down onto you.

You both let out a breath at the same time.

“God…” you gasped.

Her pussy took you so perfectly—tight, wet, warm, welcoming you like you belonged inside her.

She bottomed out with a quiet moan, burying her face into the crook of your neck as her walls adjusted to you, pulsing around every inch.

You could feel her heartbeat.

You could feel the way her body gripped you—slow, deep waves.

Then she began to move.

Not bouncing. Not grinding.

Rolling.

Her hips undulated in a slow, sensual rhythm, taking you in fully with each smooth motion. She wasn’t fucking you for pleasure. She was claiming you. Worshipping you.

Her fingers trailed through your hair, along your scalp, down to your jaw as she kissed the corner of your mouth. “You don’t have to prove anything here,” she murmured. “You’re already enough.”

Her words felt like silk wrapping around your heart.

Each time she sank down, you filled her completely. Each time she rose, she left you twitching with need. But she wouldn’t let you go faster. She pressed her forehead to yours, keeping you still, keeping you grounded.

“You’re ours now,” she breathed. “And I won’t let anyone else ruin you again.”

You couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped your throat. Her voice—so soft, so firm—went straight through you. She kissed you again, gentler this time, as if soothing something broken inside you.

Her walls fluttered around your cock, milking you with every pulse. You felt yourself climbing higher—slow, inevitable. Her pussy clamped tighter as she rocked her hips in slow, firm circles, making sure you felt everything.

You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close, your face pressed to her neck as you whispered, “Liz… I’m gonna—”

“I know,” she whispered back. “Give it to me.”

Her lips brushed against your ear, her hands stroking your back.

“Cum inside me. I want to feel all of you.”

That broke you.

You gasped into her shoulder as your climax hit—hot, overwhelming. You spilled into her in deep, endless pulses, cock twitching inside her tight, fluttering heat. She moaned softly as you filled her, still moving her hips slowly, milking every last drop.

You stayed like that.

Buried deep. Connected.

Her arms circled your neck, her lips pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your eyelids, your jaw. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her breath on your skin, her warmth wrapped around your body, the steady thrum of her heart against your chest—it said everything.

Minutes passed.

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes.

Her lips curled into a small, loving smile.

Then she whispered—almost possessively, barely audible—“No one will ever touch you again… like this. Ever.”

You were still deep inside her, your release slowly dripping out, warming the space between your bodies.

And she stayed seated on your lap—holding you, loving you—until Lisa’s voice called from the other side of the room:

“…Next.”

Yunjin stood in front of the boardroom table, licking her lips, eyes locked on yours.

“You still have one more round in you, right?” she asked, voice sultry, breathy. “We’re not done until you’ve lost count.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your body moved on instinct, drawn to her like gravity. She grabbed you by the collar and pulled you in, smashing her lips to yours—hungry, wet, claiming. Her hands slipped under your shirt, raking down your back, pulling your hips against hers.

Then she turned around, climbed onto the table, and leaned back on her elbows, spreading her legs wide open—already soaked.

“Come show me what all those other girls were moaning about,” she said, her voice a low growl.

You stepped between her thighs, your cock hard again—still slick from Liz’s warmth. Yunjin reached down and guided your tip to her entrance, rubbing it up and down her slit, coating you with her slick before slowly sliding you in.

“Fuck…” she hissed, throwing her head back. “So thick… stretch me out…”

You sank deeper, inch by inch, until your hips met hers. Her thighs wrapped around your waist, heels digging into your back as she moaned out, “Fuck me like she never let you.”

You thrust—slow and deep, each movement dragging cries from her lips.

“God, you’re so fucking warm,” you groaned.

She chuckled through a whimper. “That’s what happens when you’ve been waiting for months…”

Then, arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind—Lisa.

The CEO pressed her body to Yunjin’s back, lips brushing her ear as she purred, “You’re not hogging him all to yourself.”

Lisa’s hands reached between Yunjin’s thighs, fingers spreading her lips wider so she could watch every inch of your cock disappear inside.

“Look at that,” Lisa whispered, her voice dark, teasing. “He’s still throbbing. And you’re already dripping all over the floor.”

Yunjin turned her head, panting. “He feels fucking perfect—just wait.”

Lisa kissed her neck, slowly trailing down to her shoulder, then met your eyes over Yunjin’s shoulder. “Pull out. Now.”

You obeyed—your cock slipping from Yunjin’s tight, soaked pussy with a wet pop. A thick strand of your shared arousal clung to her folds.

Then Lisa slid down, straddled your thighs, and reached behind her to guide you in.

Straight into her.

You both gasped.

“Oh… god,” she moaned, eyes rolling back. “He’s still twitching…”

Yunjin shivered behind her. “I can feel it, fuck… it’s still warm…”

You grabbed Lisa’s hips, thrusting up into her slowly, savoring the sensation of her tight, velvet walls hugging your cock.

“You feel… incredible,” you groaned.

Lisa grinned, rolling her hips with slow, grinding circles. “Bet she never let you fuck her like this at work.”

From behind, Yunjin leaned in, kissing Lisa’s neck, dragging her tongue along her skin. “Let me have him again…”

Without a word, Lisa lifted herself off of you, and Yunjin immediately climbed back into your lap—grabbing your cock, aligning it, and sitting down hard.

The sudden heat swallowed you whole again. Yunjin cried out, fingernails digging into your shoulders as she rocked her hips.

“God—fuck, he’s leaking inside already,” she whimpered.

Lisa crouched beside you, stroking your balls with one hand and gripping your jaw with the other. “Do you want us both?”

“Y-Yes…” you panted, completely overwhelmed.

“Then earn it,” Lisa whispered, leaning in to kiss you roughly as Yunjin bounced harder, grinding her hips in frantic circles.

Then it started.

Back and forth.

Lisa mounted you again. Yunjin leaned back, panting, watching as Lisa took you all the way in.

Yunjin moaned, “God, watching your cock slide in and out of her—it’s so fucking hot.”

Lisa rode you with sharp, authoritative thrusts, her pussy squeezing you tight, her moans growing louder with each slap of skin. “You’re mine tonight,” she gasped. “You belong to all of us.”

Then she pulled off.

Yunjin instantly reclaimed your cock, panting, “My turn…”

Back and forth.

Your cock moved between them, soaked and throbbing, every thrust burying itself in one then the other—pussy to pussy, slick to slick.

“Fuck, he’s so fucking hard,” Lisa groaned, touching herself as she watched you fuck Yunjin again. “I want to taste your cum while he’s still inside you.”

Yunjin’s legs trembled. “Do it. Make him cum inside. I want to feel it again…”

Lisa reached between Yunjin’s thighs and pressed her fingers against your base, circling your cock while it was buried in Yunjin’s pussy. “Cum, baby. Right here. Fill her again.”

Yunjin’s pussy clenched around you, her eyes wide and lips trembling.

“Do it—fuck, I want you to lose it in me,” she begged, grinding down.

You couldn’t take it.

With a strangled moan, you buried yourself to the hilt in Yunjin’s heat and came—hard.

The orgasm tore through you like a wave, cock pulsing deep inside her as she cried out and came with you, her walls milking every drop.

Lisa leaned in, fingers dipping into where you were still buried inside Yunjin, gathering up the leaking mess.

She licked it off her fingers slowly.

“Mmm,” she sighed, eyes locked on yours. “Better than anything I’ve ever tasted.”

Yunjin collapsed forward, panting against your chest, body twitching.

Lisa kissed both your cheeks, then brushed your hair back.

“Meeting adjourned,” she whispered.

Afterward.

They dressed you.

Buttoned your shirt. Wiped your face. Kissed your lips.

Lisa leaned in close and whispered, “Your real life starts now. She gave you up. We’ll never make that mistake.”

The door opened.

They walked out.

You were left alone again, jaw slack, legs weak, suit wrinkled, heart pounding.

And seven different sets of panties in your pockets.

[chrissssssmut]

bro might just be in the hall of fame for writing femdom😭

THANK YOU GANG! I AIM TO PLEASE🙏💞

[chrissssssmut]

best femdom writer no cap🤭

OH STOP IT🤭🤭🤭 BUT IM VV FLATTERED♥️

[chrissssssmut]

i saw your comment that anonymous person disrespect you, nah man I want to defend from that crazy

thank you anon! but trust me, they aren't worth anyone's time 🫶

[chrissssssmut]

can you please do a fromis9 saerom, gyuri, nagyung idols harem x male reader pls

THE HEAT NEST

Saerom, Gyuri & Nagyung x Male Reader

The moment the door closed behind you, the air shifted.

“Finally,” Gyuri purred, padding barefoot across the plush carpet, her oversized shirt barely covering the curve of her thighs. “I thought your shift would never end.”

You dropped your bag, eyes bouncing between her and the couch—where Nagyung was straddling a pillow, in nothing but a cropped tank and lacy panties, hips grinding slow and deliberate.

“Look who’s late,” Nagyung teased, flipping her hair. “You said 8. It’s almost 8:30. We were getting impatient.”

“We?” you echoed, your voice catching.

“Mm-hmm.”

From behind, arms snaked around your waist, a soft chest pressing into your back—Saerom. Her lips ghosted the shell of your ear.

“I said we’d wait,” she murmured, dragging her nails down your stomach. “But they don’t like listening.”

“Liar,” Gyuri shot back, smirking. “You’re soaked just from watching.”

The tension ignited instantly. Your hands trembled slightly as Saerom pulled your shirt over your head, slow, controlled, like peeling back the wrapping of something forbidden.

“You’ve been gone all day,” she said, lips grazing your neck. “And we’ve been thinking about you. About this.”

She palmed your bulge over your jeans—firm and possessive.

You didn’t remember walking to the bed, only the sensation of being led by three hungry predators. Your jeans hit the floor. Then your boxers.

“You’ve been holding back for us, haven’t you?” Nagyung asked, fingers wrapping around your shaft with dangerous curiosity. “So full, baby. Are you gonna last with three mouths on you?”

You barely managed a grunt before Gyuri knelt between your legs, her hand replacing Nagyung’s. She stroked slow, thumb circling your tip like she was testing your resolve.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll break you in nice and slow.”

But they didn’t.

Gyuri’s lips wrapped around you with practiced grace, her tongue curling and teasing while Nagyung straddled your chest, pussy already dripping. She didn’t ask permission before lowering herself onto your mouth.

“Mm—fuck, he’s good at this,” Nagyung gasped, grinding her hips. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop—”

Saerom watched, eyes dark. She knelt beside Gyuri, licking your shaft clean whenever she pulled off, only to shove her tongue deep against your balls while Gyuri bobbed her head in rhythm.

“You’re trembling already,” Saerom whispered, hand gently stroking your hair. “It’s okay. Let it go.”

You came—hard—spilling deep into Gyuri’s throat. She moaned, swallowing greedily, licking the tip with delicate care as if savoring it.

“I want him next,” Saerom said, already slipping out of her panties. “You two, get him hard again. Use your mouths.”

You didn’t even go soft.

Saerom mounted you slowly, grabbing your cock and dragging it along her folds before sinking in with a breathless moan.

“Shit—he’s still throbbing,” she gasped, hands planted firmly on your chest. “Good boy.”

Gyuri and Nagyung weren’t idle. They sat on either side of you, kissing your neck, nibbling your earlobes, whispering filth.

“Do you hear how wet she is for you?” Gyuri whispered. “You’re fucking our leader. Can you feel how much she needs you?”

Nagyung’s fingers stroked along your thigh, teasing the place where Saerom’s pussy swallowed your cock. “We’re all gonna use you tonight. You belong to us.”

Saerom bounced harder, thighs clapping against you as her moans grew louder. You gripped her hips and thrust up, watching her unravel above you.

“Cum in me,” she demanded. “Right now. I want to feel it.”

You did. The way she squeezed around you as she came pushed you over the edge. Again.

And still—they weren’t done.

“Now it’s my turn,” Nagyung announced, straddling your hips again. “And I’m not letting you go until you beg.”

She rode you with reckless speed, her tight heat dragging your oversensitive cock back into full hardness. You groaned, arms shaking, eyes fluttering as her pace became ruthless.

“Too much?” she mocked. “But you look so pretty like this. Used up. Desperate.”

Saerom took your hand and brought it to Gyuri’s cunt—already wet again. She bit her lip as you slid two fingers in, curling them, thumb circling her clit.

“He’s good with his hands,” Gyuri said breathily, hips grinding into your palm. “But I miss his mouth…”

Nagyung was bouncing faster now, her moans getting louder. Your cock twitched inside her.

“Cum again,” she ordered. “Do it while I’m still milking you.”

You couldn’t stop it. You came again, stars behind your eyes, twitching inside her tight, pulsing warmth.

“I want to be on top this time,” Gyuri said, voice low, crawling over you with a devilish glint in her eye. “No more teasing.”

She slid onto you in one smooth motion, face twisted in pleasure as she bottomed out. Saerom and Nagyung positioned themselves above you—Saerom pulling your face into her dripping folds while Nagyung sucked on your nipples, grinding her ass against your side.

Your cock was aching, your mind a blur, but Gyuri didn’t give you a break. She rolled her hips in slow, tight circles, milking every inch of you while whispering filth.

“You’re ours now. You understand that, right?” she whispered, bouncing harder. “You’re gonna spend every night like this. Buried in us. Drowning in it.”

Your hips bucked up, your moans muffled by Saerom riding your tongue again.

“Cum for her,” Saerom demanded. “Then cum for me. Then for Nagyung. Again and again.”

Your vision blurred. You exploded one more time inside Gyuri with a helpless cry.

And even then—they didn’t stop.

Your body was done.

Your cock had twitched for the third time in the last ten minutes, overstimulated and raw, but Saerom didn’t care. She had you buried inside her again, her hips rolling in slow, devastating figure-eights as your legs spasmed uselessly beneath her.

“You poor thing,” she cooed, sweat dripping from her collarbone onto your chest. “You’ve cum so much... and yet, you’re still hard for me.”

You didn’t even respond. You couldn’t. Your head was buried into the pillows, your arms pinned above you by Nagyung, who sat on your face now, her slick folds grinding against your lips in desperate, circular motions.

“Lick me,” she hissed, tugging your hair sharply. “I said fucking lick me. You’re not done until we say so.”

And Gyuri—Gyuri was between your legs, licking your cock and Saerom’s pussy at the same time every time she bottomed out. She was lapping up the mixed mess of your cum and Saerom’s slick like it was the sweetest dessert she'd ever tasted.

You tried to twist your hips, tried to get a breath between Nagyung’s thighs—but Saerom moaned, grabbing your throat gently, her fingers tightening just enough.

“No squirming,” she said calmly. “Be good and take it. Let us use you.”

Gyuri looked up with cum on her lips, eyes alight. “He’s twitching again.”

“Is he gonna cum?” Nagyung asked, hips stuttering against your mouth. “Again?”

“Yeah,” Gyuri grinned. “He’s clenching. Let’s push him over.”

Your vision blurred as Saerom slammed down, hard, her walls squeezing tight around your abused shaft. You cried out, muffled by Nagyung’s pussy, just as Gyuri rubbed your overstimulated tip with her palm—fast, wet, brutal.

“Cum, cum, cum again,” she whispered, lips brushing the base of your cock. “Let it all out.”

You exploded.

Your body jerked. Legs kicked. Your vision went white. It hurt—but it felt so good it bordered on agony. You felt your cock throb deep inside Saerom, flooding her again while your tongue desperately circled Nagyung’s clit. She shivered, grinding harder.

“Oh my god, he’s still cumming,” Gyuri laughed. “He’s going insane.”

You weren’t allowed to pull out.

Saerom stayed seated, cockwarming you, clenching every few seconds just to keep you hard. Your hips trembled with every spasm, but she kept you locked inside.

“You’re leaking out of me,” she whispered in your ear. “And we’re not even halfway done.”

“Gyuri…” Nagyung purred, now lying beside you, slick between her thighs. “Get on his face. Let’s see how far he can go.”

Before you could even recover a breath, Gyuri mounted your face, holding the sides of your head with a dangerous look in her eyes.

“No tongue?” she teased, rocking against your mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

You obeyed, tongue out, licking and flicking as she rode your face like it was her throne. Meanwhile, Saerom began to bounce again—slow, deliberate drops that made you twitch every time she sank down.

You were raw. Spent. But your cock was still hard.

They had broken something in you—and they loved it.

“Look at him,” Nagyung murmured, brushing your cheek with mock sweetness. “He’s all brain-dead now. Can’t even think. Just a cock with a face.”

“You love being used like this, don’t you?” Gyuri whispered, pulling your hair. “Say it. Say you’re our fucktoy.”

You mumbled it. Broken. Hollow.

And they moaned in response.

Nagyung rolled you over this time, cock slipping out of Saerom with a wet pop.

She got behind you, sliding between your thighs and pumping your slick-covered shaft with both hands—tight, twisting strokes that made your back arch.

“I wanna see him cry again,” she said. “Make him cum dry.”

Gyuri sat on your chest, her pussy slick and warm as she grinded lazily, bending forward to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow,” she ordered. “Then stick your tongue out.”

You obeyed.

And when Nagyung suddenly slapped your cock and then stroked it again, fast, it sent another wave of heat through your spine. You moaned pathetically, body twitching as your balls tightened despite having nothing left to give.

“I think he’s close,” Saerom giggled, licking her lips. “I wanna taste this one.”

They traded places mid-stroke—Nagyung aiming your overstimulated cock at Saerom’s tongue as it twitched and leaked.

“No, no, no—” you whimpered.

But they didn’t care.

You came again. No cum. Just spasms. Dry orgasm. Twitching violently as they all laughed and moaned and held you down through it.

“Good boy,” Gyuri cooed, stroking your cheek. “You’re such a mess now.”

You collapsed flat, covered in their slick, cum drying on your abs, thighs shaking.

“Are we done?” you whispered, throat raw, lips sore.

Saerom smirked, crawling up beside you. “Who said anything about done?”

“You can still twitch,” Nagyung teased. “That means you’re still useful.”

Gyuri leaned in, her tongue licking your jawline. “We’re gonna ruin you tonight.”

They all crawled back over you—licking, biting, stroking—and you realized this wasn’t just a hookup. This was a ritual.

You weren’t going home.

You were home.

And they were going to keep you broken.

[chrissssssmut]

oh bitch youre so disgusting and weird kys

ok lil bro, how bout we stop being anonymous🤣🥀

[chrissssssmut]

sadistic sullyoon smut?

NO MERCY

Sullyoon x Male Reader

You don’t remember saying yes.

At least, not with words.

But somewhere between the teasing messages she’d sent and the picture of her heel pressed against a velvet cushion — captioned “you’ll crawl to me tonight, won’t you?” — you must have agreed. Because you’re here now. Sitting on the floor of her high-rise apartment, ankles crossed like she ordered, hands trembling slightly on your lap.

You’re not sure if it’s excitement or fear.

Maybe both.

Sullyoon hasn’t looked at you since you arrived. She’s lounging on the couch like royalty, her perfectly crossed legs clad in sheer thigh-highs, one of them lazily bouncing with every tick of the clock.

And then finally—she speaks.

“So,” she says, voice like honey dipped in venom. “You really did come crawling after all.”

You flinch slightly. “You told me to.”

“I didn’t tell you. I dared you. And you obeyed like a pathetic little puppy.”

Her smile is cruel, slow. “I should get you a leash.”

She doesn’t ask. She commands.

“Strip. Everything.”

You hesitate a second too long, and the sharp snap of her fingers makes you jolt.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she says flatly.

You stand, your hands awkward and shaking as you peel off each layer of clothing. Sullyoon watches with predatory amusement, not blinking. Not smiling. Just… watching. By the time you’re naked, her head is tilted like she’s examining a toy she’s about to break.

“On your knees. Crawl.”

You do.

The floor is cold against your skin, but the burn of humiliation keeps you warm. You crawl until your head is between her knees, and she spreads them slightly. You can smell the faint perfume of her skin, can see the edge of her black panties under that impossibly short silk robe.

“I thought about letting you touch me tonight,” she says with a faux pout. “But then I remembered how you begged last time. So needy. So fucking loud.”

Her hand threads into your hair, yanks your head back until your eyes meet hers.

“You don’t deserve to touch. Not yet.”

She stands, towering over you, and your eyes instinctively drop to the smooth curves of her legs, the robe shifting with every movement.

“Lie on your back. Arms above your head.”

She ties your wrists before you can even think to protest. Velvet cuffs, soft but tight. Controlled. You’re spread out like a plaything on her thick rug, and she walks around you slowly, heel tapping against the floor like a metronome of doom.

Then—SLAP.

Her palm meets your cheek.

You gasp, eyes wide.

“Count,” she says.

You swallow. “O-One.”

Her fingers glide over the red mark. “Good boy.”

She straddles your chest, pinning you down without mercy. Her thighs are firm and silky against your ribs. She leans forward, tongue sliding slowly across your cheek, and her voice drops.

“You like being treated like this?” she whispers. “Like a dumb little plaything I get to break?”

You nod.

She slaps you again. Harder.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Sullyoon.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I like it. I like being your toy.”

She chuckles darkly. “God, you’re so easy.”

She shifts downward, her soaked panties grinding across your stomach, then lower. You can feel your cock throbbing, untouched, desperate, twitching with every movement. She teases you with her hips, dragging her heat over you, watching your face twist in frustration.

“Hmm,” she hums. “Still haven’t earned it.”

She moves down, trails one long nail along the underside of your shaft. You buck up instinctively. Mistake.

SLAP.

This time, she slaps your cock.

You whimper.

She grins. “Aw, was that too much for you? Poor little thing. So sensitive.”

She slaps it again. And again. Alternating between soft teasing strokes and brutal smacks until you’re shaking beneath her, leaking pre-cum with nothing but pain and her voice for comfort.

“Beg,” she says simply.

You do. Brokenly.

“Please. Please, Sullyoon—touch me, anything. I need you, I—”

“Oh, I know you need me. But do you deserve me?”

You don't answer fast enough.

Her fingers wrap around you tight, squeezing near the base. “You know what happens if you cum without permission, right?”

You nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Yes, Sullyoon.”

“Good.”

She jerks you slow. Painfully slow. Her other hand wraps around your throat, not choking yet—just holding. Reminding you who’s in control.

“You’re going to stare at me,” she purrs, “and you’re going to thank me for every second I let you feel this.”

She pumps faster.

“Thank you, Sullyoon.”

Her grip tightens.

“Louder.”

“Thank you, Sullyoon!”

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours, Sullyoon—!”

And she stops.

Everything stops.

You almost sob from the denial.

“Oh, you were close, weren’t you?” she says mockingly. “Too bad. Maybe if you were less pathetic, I’d let you finish.”

She stands again, towering over you like a goddess of wrath. She slips her panties off and tosses them on your face.

“Bite them and shut up.”

You do.

Then she mounts you—no warning, no teasing. Just raw, tight, dripping heat swallowing your length in one brutal stroke.

You scream into the silk.

Her hips move mercilessly, slamming down again and again. She rides you like you’re nothing but a cock for her amusement, hands gripping your chest, nails digging in deep.

“You like being used like this?” she gasps, riding faster. “Being my fucking toy?”

You nod, desperate, eyes rolling back.

“Good,” she growls. “Because you don’t get to cum unless I say so.”

And she keeps going.

Over and over, faster, rougher, choking you, slapping you, fucking the soul out of your body. You cum once—without permission—and she slaps you across the face so hard you see stars.

“What did I fucking say?” she hisses.

“I’m sorry—!”

She doesn’t stop.

She fucks you through it. Again. And again.

By the end, you’re nothing but a broken, overstimulated mess, gasping and twitching beneath her as she finally cums with a scream, nails raking your chest raw.

She collapses on top of you, panting.

Silence.

Then, her lips brush your ear.

“…You did well tonight,” she whispers, voice soft now.

“Thank you, Sullyoon,” you whisper back, dazed.

She unties your wrists gently. Brushes her lips along your bruised cheek.

THE NEXT DAY

You wake up still sore.

The bruises on your chest ache when you breathe. The red marks on your thighs sting where her nails raked across you. And your cock? Still tender. Still twitching with memory.

But you know better than to touch it.

When you roll over, Sullyoon is already dressed — thigh-high boots laced tight, black corset hugging her waist, a sheer robe flowing behind her like a queen’s cloak.

She doesn’t look at you.

She doesn’t have to.

“On your knees,” she says calmly, stirring her tea without turning around.

You move automatically. No words. Just obedience.

“Good morning to you too, puppy,” she says with a smile, finally facing you. “You look like shit.”

You lower your eyes.

Her heels click across the floor slowly. She circles you like a hawk, watching every breath, every twitch.

“You’re still hard,” she observes. “Pathetic. You came so much last night. I can still see you throbbing.”

She cups your face with one gloved hand. Soft leather. Cold fingers.

“I wonder how long you’ll last today. I want to see tears.”

She leans in. “Real ones.”

You don’t answer. You’re not sure you can. Your throat is dry. Your body’s still buzzing from last night.

Then she steps away—and reveals the bench.

Straps. Spreader bars. A collar chain dangling like an invitation.

“I had it delivered this morning,” she says sweetly. “It screamed your name.”

You hesitate.

“Do I need to drag you?”

You scramble toward it.

Strapped in seconds later, arms bound behind you, ankles spread, your ass perched over the edge and your cock helplessly jutting forward — Sullyoon walks into view again, holding a slim cane and a cruel smile.

“You’re going to cry for me,” she repeats softly, dragging the cane down your chest. “You’re going to beg and sob and forget your own name. And I’m going to enjoy every second.”

Then she strikes.

A clean, brutal snap across your inner thigh.

You jerk. A choked noise escapes.

“One.”

Another strike. “Two.”

She counts each one.

By ten, you’re gasping. By fifteen, shaking. By twenty-two, your voice cracks.

“Say ‘thank you,’” she purrs, dragging her nails over the welts.

“T-Thank you, Sullyoon.”

“You’re not even crying yet,” she sighs, almost disappointed. “You boys are always so slow to break.”

Then she pulls a blindfold over your eyes.

Silence.

The tension is worse than the pain. You wait. Tremble. She says nothing.

Then you feel it—her warm mouth around your cock. Soft. Slow. Her tongue swirls around your tip like she’s savoring the taste of suffering.

You moan loudly. Her teeth scrape down the shaft.

And then—nothing.

She pulls away.

You whimper. Pathetic.

Her voice: “Beg me.”

You do. Slurred, breathless. “Please. Please, Sullyoon, I need you. Please touch me. Use me. Anything.”

“Anything?” she echoes, amused.

“Yes,” you whisper, desperate.

Slap. Her hand hits your face, open-palm.

“Then cry for me,” she hisses. “Cry. I want to see your dignity drip out of you like sweat.”

You shake. Tears sting your blindfold.

“I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” she whispers. “You’re already breaking. I own you now.”

Another slap. Another crack of the cane.

And finally—

You sob.

Quiet at first. Then louder. You cry, raw and humiliated and ruined, gasping out her name like a prayer.

And she moans.

“That’s it. That’s what I wanted.”

She straddles you again, rubbing her wet heat along your tip. But she doesn’t take you in.

Not yet.

“You’ll never fuck me again,” she lies. “Unless you earn it. And right now?”

She leans close to your ear.

“You’re just a mess I get to torment.”

You sob harder.

She licks your tears. Sinks down just enough to tease your tip. Rides slowly. Grinding. Ruining.

“You feel that?” she pants. “That’s what you’ll never get without begging like the desperate little whore you are.”

You nod frantically. “Please—I need you—please, I’ll do anything—!”

“Say it louder,” she growls. “I want the neighbors to hear what a broken toy sounds like.”

“I’m yours! Use me! Please—I’m your toy, Sullyoon—break me—”

And she does.

She fucks you slow at first, then brutally — bouncing on your cock, nails scratching your chest, tears streaming down your cheeks as you moan and sob and scream her name over and over.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry,” she gasps. “You should cry for me every night.”

You cum when she tells you to.

Not before. Not after.

And when she finally unties you, she kisses your forehead gently, draping a soft robe over your shaking body.

“Good boy,” she whispers. “I think I’ll keep you.”