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gyuubear · 3 days ago

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OMG I LOVEEEEEEE (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Kai’s Pretty Girlfriend [5]: Take Your Time With Me (Please)

OT5 x reader, gyu focused, masterlist <3 [word count] Warnings: pleasure dom gyu, sub reader, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, body worship, slight breeding kink but also, protected sex (crowd boos/j),

Beomgyu wears his title as the group's resident romantic like the badge of honor it is. He grew up in a house with two loving parents who after so many years together still look at each other with such love and adoration he can't help but want the same for himself.

He's used to treasuring his partners, soaking in every moment as if it's the last time he'll ever see them. He knows it—he can be a bit much, but his mom always told him that the right person wouldn't mind. That he'd find someone who would love him in both his loudness and his silence, someone who would take all the love he pours out and return it tenfold. And, call him crazy, but he always knew that that person would be you.

He remembers walking into that coffee shop while mumbling the order to himself as if he would forget: two americanos, two caramel macchiatos, and something sweet (he wouldn't forget, he could probably order meals for an entire day for his members without asking them—their lives are already so intertwined that he can't remember what it was like before them). He remembers the K-pop song playing softly through the store (he knows now that it was Mist by Ateez, you always had it on loop). He remembers panicking for a moment, worried that you'd know who he was and react... oddly, even if they'd only debuted a year before. But that didn't happen.

What happened was him freezing the moment a cheery voice welcomed him in and asked for his order. His mind went blank and all he could focus on was you. He remembers asking you what your favorite drink was (something called a Honey Bee Latte) and ordering six of them. While you prepared the drinks, you asked him about his life and ranted about school as if you were none the wiser to his internal state (he remembers mentioning that he had four permanent roommates that he loved and wanted to be with forever). When you finished the drinks, he took one out of the carrier and gave it to you before bolting out (he remembers your light laugh and how he decided he'd come back soon to hear it again). He also remembers how his groupmates whined about not getting the right orders, but still thanked him and told him he wasn't going to be excluded from making the runs just because he got it wrong once (he got it wrong every time after that, too).

(In the three months that followed, he learned so much about you. How you moved here from America not too long ago and the lady that owns the place was a family friend without kids who needed someone to work the night shift. How you think she might want you to own the shop in the future and you were thinking of taking it just because you didn't know what to do with your life yet. In return, he told you about his time as a trainee and the uncertainty. How he thinks he doesn't deserve the life that was given to him so he'll work himself down to nothing to make sure he keeps it and gets more.)

He remembers how they finally got tired of getting the wrong drinks and sent Kai with him. He remembers the immediate connection between you two, how a flush spread across Kai's face, and how your eyes were constantly drawn to him. He had always been a romantic and who was he to stand in the way of something so beautiful? He remembers how he declared himself Kai's wingman and made it his mission to get him to confess. And the rest was history. His hunch was correct: real, true love flows between you and Kai. (He tries to forget the night two years later that he allowed himself to feel, to cry, and ask 'Why not me? Why not us?' But the silence of his room had no answer for him.)

He thought he'd left his indulgence in the past, but the new door you opened up for him has that monster stirring to life again. He spends the rest of the day in a daze until he books a hotel room for a night (it's actually for a week and under a different name, but semantics). He knows it's reckless and stupid and way too risky for a hookup, but it's really not, not to him. He resolves to give himself one more night. A night where he can pretend, just once that you're his and he's yours, and he can't do that on a twin bed in the room he shares with Soobin.

(Beomgyu checked in with Kai before, to make sure it was okay and he was met with a smile that made him feel like the younger one. He thinks the desperation in his eyes was obvious. The way he needs this. Kai merely ruffled his hair and said, 'Anything you want, Beomie.' And that was that.)

When they're leaving the next morning he presses the paper in your hand with the code to the room and a kiss to your lips (because he can do that now) whispering "Thursday. When you get off."

He spends the days leading in a blur until he's suddenly standing in the hotel room with a bottle of wine sitting on the table. He knows you don't get off until eight but he couldn't take staying in the dorm a second later, the nervousness and anticipation had him pacing his room.

He hears the keypad go off around 8:30 and turns just in time to see you enter the room. You're wearing an oversized sweater and some shorts. You flash him a sheepish smile as you make your way over to him.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't keep you waiting long. I had to stop home and shower."

"What if I wanted you sweaty?" He puts an arm around your waist to pull you into him and shoves his head to your shoulder to give you an exaggerated sniff as you let out that oh so familiar and beautiful laugh (the monster starts stirring again when he realizes that you're wearing a perfume he got you).

He pulls away and leads you to the table before pouring you both some wine and placing it in the fridge (just a bit, to take the nerves off). He asks you about your day and then sits back and sips as you immediately launch into a rant. He started off paying attention, he really did, but the longer you talk the more his gaze wanders.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Cause I really want to kiss you." His voice is laced with a desperation he can't even begin to attempt to hide. "Come here?" You jump out of your chair like it's on fire and climb into his lap.

"This okay?" You ask with a coy smile.

"Almost." He places his hands on your hips to pull you so you're chest to chest. But even that's not enough for him. He can still tell where his body ends and yours begins.

Beomgyu isn’t sure which of you leaned in first, but when your lips meet it’s magical. His hands work to map out the line of your body, passing over the curves of your breasts, the softness of your waist, the fullness of your hips before settling over your thighs.

He takes his time with his tracing when he gets there. Running his hands back and forth before squeezing the flesh. His hands continue to travel up and up until they reach the crevice where your thighs meet your butt. And no sooner than his hands finding a home in that curve does your impatience begin.

You were content to sit prettily and let Beomgyu do as he wants to your lips and body for a few minutes, but now you’re shifting in your spot on his lap. Your hips give hesitant rocks as you try to restrain yourself.

Beomgyu has half a mind to draw this out some more, see how long it would take for you to cry for him, but another part of him- a larger part of him wants to give you everything you want and more tonight. He has who knows how long to prod and push at your buttons to see which ones get what reactions, but for tonight he wants to treat you nicely. Honor your first time as if you were spending it in a different context.

When he pulls away, he makes sure to bite down gently on your bottom lip just to hear you gasp. "Bed?"

You blink your eyes open slowly. "Yeah. Yes."

He readjusts his grip on your hips before standing, making a show of stumbling just to hear your squeals and feel you grab onto him tighter. He can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him and you reward him with a hit to the back of his head that has him threatening to drop you, but you don’t flinch at his words (you both know he wouldn’t dare).

He places you down in the center of the bed before climbing on top of you. As soon as it's safe enough, you're rising up to meet his lips in another kiss. This one's tamer than the last, simply a press of your lips together before it devolves into Beomgyu kissing every inch of your skin he can reach. He makes sure to peck your lips every so often, so they don't get lonely (they never will again, if he has anything to say about it).

He starts trailing his kisses down to your neck to show some love to it too (he makes sure to leave a few marks just under your jaw, tilting your head one way and another). His hands trace a path to the end of your sweater, tugging on it once in question. At your nod, he's raising it over your head to take it off (he's glad it got stuck over your face because he couldn't help drinking in the sight of your body clad in a black lace bra).

He’s only able to tear his eyes off that sight when you start squirming and tell him to ‘stop staring.’ Fondness bubbles up in his chest and he can’t help but smile and bring his lips to yours again.

“You’re so beautiful.” He marks those words with another kiss before trailing them down to kiss the newly exposed skin.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it?” He scoffs and nips at your nipple through the fabric. “I love it.”

You card your fingers through his hair, but don’t pull him away. “I bought it just for you.” Your words cause a line of heat to travel through his body, and he can’t help but bring his head lower to where you need him most.

Though he's been doing it most of the night, he really can't help but make his trek down to your pussy slow. He has to show love to every inch of your body or he might die. He trails kisses down your stomach, making sure to leave a trail of marks in his wake (he has half a mind to mark a 'B' into your skin but he doesn't think the guys would like that).

He makes quick work of removing your shorts and panties. He allows himself a moment to just stare at you spread bare for him but your whines for him to either look away or do something get to him and he leans in to place a kiss on your mound and moving around to your thighs.

When he gets there he can’t help but take his time leaving as many kisses and marks as he can with his hands grasping the outside of your thighs to keep you spread open for him.

You let out a soft ‘oh’ when he slips his middle and ring fingers into you, that he shushes with gentle kisses to your thighs. He then start to work you open, stretching and spreading his fingers into you to carve out a space just for him. He’s happy he got to take his time here before, because now he can’t contain the excitement thrumming through his veins at the thought of finally being inside you.

He does make sure to tease you a bit though. Kai always talks about how he likes to spoil you and it shows in the way you buck your hips against his fingers and whine for him to ‘give me more, gyu.’

He responds by pressing his fingers up and asking in a sweet voice, “You want it here, baby?” You make such pretty noises for him at that, but he remembers where that spot that makes you let out even prettier noises is (he’s thought of it every day since the last time he had you, after all). “Or what about here?” He marks those words with a quick shift of his fingers into that spongy spot inside of you that has you hurtling over the edge before either of you can react.

“You look so pretty when you fall apart for me, baby.” Beomgyu lets out as he keeps thrusting his fingers into that sweet spot of yours. “Will you do it again?”

“No, no, Gyu.” You let out petulantly with a pout on your face. “I want you. Not your fingers.”

He gives you a pout of his own that is nothing but mocking with the way his eyes light up in glee. “Oh, but baby, I need to make sure you’re ready for me. I don’t want to break you.”

“I can take you. You won’t break me.” You huff and cross your arms even as your hips buck up to meet his still moving hand. “You give yourself too much credit.”

“Yeah? You think so, baby?” Beomgyu pulls his fingers out, just to add another and push them back into you slowly watching the way your breath hitches. “You can’t even take three of my fingers, let alone my cock.”

“I can. I can.” Your hands find their way to his biceps, squeezing them as you plead. “Give it to me. ‘m want it, Gyu.”

“Come for me again and I’ll give it to you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles on your clit and it’s enough to have your words turn into mindless babbles that serve no real purpose. Despite your complaining, it didn’t take long for him to work you over the edge again. He had half a mind to make you give him another but figured he could be nice to you just this once.

You let out a sweet whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, urging him to put something in you because you’re so empty. He shushes you with gentle kisses to your lips before he’s rising to take off his clothes, not forgetting to grab a condom. He relishes in the way your eyes take him in, raking over his body with a hunger he wants to see every day for the rest of his life.

He gets back into the bed and places himself in between your legs. Just to be a tease, he holds the corner of his mouth when he goes to open it. His trick works and it has your hands fumbling to be the one to work it over his cock. He lets out a sigh when you give a few pumps once the condom is rolled on as he falls over you with his elbows on either side of your head.

Beomgyu leans back onto his calves to line himself up but finds himself unable to choose where to focus. He doesn’t know if he should watch the way you take him (he just knows you’ll take him so well, he’ll fit so perfectly inside you) or your face when he finally gets inside you.

He doesn’t have much time to decide because you promptly begin whining for him to ‘do something, Gyu, please.’ He runs his hands along your thighs as he smirks down at you below him. “Don’t worry, baby.” He gives quick pinch to your thigh. “I’ll take care of you.”

He lines himself up and pushes inside while watching the way your face scrunches and smooths over at the sensation. He makes sure to pause about halfway because while he may not be as long as Kai is, he is thicker and he meant it when he said he didn’t want to break you.

Once you give him the green light to move, he falls down onto his elbows on either side of your head and lets you have it.

"Gyu, fast- go faster." Your legs circle around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer to your body, but he holds himself up on an elbow and lets out a scoff.

"Faster? Are you sure? You can't even handle this, baby." He punctuates his words with a hard thrust that has sparks flowing throughout your body.

"Oh. Oh, like that, Gyu. Please." He lets out a breathless laugh and smirks down at you.

"You see? You get so drunk on cock that you don't even know what you want."

"No, no I do!"

"Yeah? What do you want, baby?" He brings a hand up to wipe your tears. "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

"Wanna come, Gyu. I wanna come."

"Well, then come. Come and I'll fill you up." He feels the way your walls clench around him at his words and he takes it in stride. "You'd like that, hm? Me filling you up and leaving you a pretty mess?"

"Yes, yes, please, wannit Gyu. 'm wannit so bad." He doesn't respond to your words, just plants his feet and drives his cock right back into that spot that had you seeing stars and watches you writhe in pleasure. "Kiss me."

He leans down and thrusts his tongue into your mouth, seemingly not in a state to kiss but still giving you what you want regardless. You pull away when you feel yourself being pushed over the edge and again Beomgyu watches the way you fall apart around him. He continues his movements to help you ride it out and goes to pull out but lets out a surprised yelp when your legs stay locked around him. You look at him with a glaze in your eyes and a smile filled with bliss.

"You look so pretty, Gyu." You bring your arms around his neck and pull him back down. "Fill me up? Please?" And Beomgyu is many things, but strong is not one of them when it comes to you. His thrusts lose their rhythm and he's truly just chasing his orgasm at this point.

"Fuck, baby." He looks at you. "You, hah, you really don't know what you do to me, do you?" You can't seem to find the words to respond to him, merely letting out sweet little ‘ahs’ that- call him crazy- he wants to hear all the time. Your pretty nails are scratching up his back and he hopes they leave marks that he can look at in the mirror later and press into to feel again. His eyes rake over your face and eventually settle on the new stream of tears flowing down it, no doubt from overstimulation, but you don’t complain or ask him to stop, you just take it for him. You're letting him use you to get off and that thought has him tumbling over the edge with your name on his lips.

He falls onto your chest entirely boneless and spends a few minutes catching his breath and listening to your heartbeat while your hands find his hair and brush through it in a mindless motion. When your heartbeats slow to steady thumps, he finds the will to move because as much as he wants to just fall asleep in your arms, a used condom isn't the most comfortable thing in the world.

He makes quick work of cleaning you up before doing the same to himself. He climbs back onto the bed and asks. "You okay? Anything hurt?"

"No, I'm okay." He watches the way you hesitate a bit before saying. "Hold me?"

"Of course. You're crazy if you think I'd do anything less." He settles down next to you and pulls you into his arms. He studies your face for a moment, making sure you're comfortable (and because he just likes looking at you). "Thank you." The words escape him before he can even think of stopping them. He watches the way your face scrunched up in displeasure before you respond.

"Don't thank me for this, Gyu. This is something we're doing together, not a favor."

"No, I know it's just-" He cuts himself off while shaking his head trying to find the words. "You're just..."

"Amazing? Yeah, I know." You joke, cuddling into him more.

"Yeah." He smiles down at you. "You really are."

Soooo, what do we think? I had a different idea in mind when starting but Gyu's loser lover boy spirit took control of my body. Did all the words in parenthesis bother you or is it fine? I personally like them, but I'm always open to feedback! Also one of you absolutely gagged me by getting them all right, but I guess I'm too predictable. If you see any mistakes, no you didn’t!

Addressing the elephant in the room, it has been two years since I updated this. That was not the plan😭😭😭 idk what happened, it’s like I blinked and it was march (and now it’s April😭) (And now it’s MAY😭😭). In other other news, this fic will not be abandoned but I am a slow updater so take that with a grain of salt. I want to do a taglist but I’m not sure how they work so if someone explains, you can send me a message to be added and I’ll add you!

How do you think your tango with the other guys will go?

#LETS GOOOOO #I’ve been waiting so long omg I feel like the happiest person on earth #THIS IS SO GOOOD #I’m actually so excited I’m shitting my pants #txt #beomgyu #moon’s rambles

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gyuubear · 5 days ago

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SO GOOD OH MY GOD

best friend hueningkai who likes to keep you on his lap and kiss your neck

still thinking about the kai pepero game…

(wc: 2k / warnings: lots of kissing and making out, grinding, cumming in pants, they’re both pathetic and desperate lmao)

kai has always been a touchy person. you only let him get away with as much as he does because you don’t want to hurt his soft heart, but sometimes you wish you had the guts to. it’s not that his clinginess makes you uncomfortable, because it certainly doesn’t—it’s just that sometimes, he doesn’t realize how intimate he’s getting.

when kai asked for a movie night with you, you expected the cuddling. you expected the way he’d pull you into his lap and keep his arms wrapped around you. you even expected the occasional peck of his soft lips against your skin, but you weren’t prepared for his kisses to land on your neck instead of your cheek. it surprises you, but it’s innocent enough to ignore for a while. he doesn’t linger very long, just planting a few small kisses along your pulse point.

you’re able to calm down after a minute, adjusting to your best friend’s newfound interest in your neck. he keeps his head rested against your shoulder, the warm skin of his cheek heating you up. he’s calm and quiet every time he speaks up, making one-off comments about the movie that you only respond to sometimes. with him leaning on you like this, you can feel the vibrations from his voice rumbling against you.

you start dozing off at some point, too relaxed to bother keeping your eyes open, letting your body go lax against kai’s. the slow rhythm of his hands drawing up and down your body helps you drift off; his innocent, soft touches have always comforted you.

“you tired?” he asks, voice low. he entertains himself with the soft skin of your thigh, gently grazing his fingers against it. it sends a shiver down your spine.

“yeah,” you answer, and even you can hear the slow, sleepy lilt in your response. you feel kai’s lips pull into a small smile before he’s pecking your shoulder carefully.

“do you want me to take you to bed?”

you hum, considering his offer, but you don’t feel like moving around. the second you hit your mattress, you’ll probably lose all your drowsiness. “no, i’m comfortable,” you say.

kai giggles, “okay.” he places his hands on your waist and maneuvers you until you’re facing him instead of the television. it’s easy to move you around when you’re so relaxed, just letting him do whatever he wants. you blink at him slowly, taking in his soft features under the dim lights. he looks angelic. you think you tell him that, but you’re only half-awake and can’t really think well.

he brings his face back into your neck, nosing up the column of your throat languidly. a hand on your thigh gently urges you closer, pressing you further into him until you’re chest-to-chest. he keeps his head buried against you, and his affection nearly drowns you. in your sleepy daze, you accept his actions happily, feeling nothing but cherished by your best friend.

the moment builds up so slowly that it barely hits you when he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your skin, right under your jaw. the heat of his mouth feels like heaven against you, and you can’t bring yourself to push him away, too comfortable and content to deny his touches. he drags his lips a little further down, sucking lightly against your neck, taking just a small taste of you.

there’s a heat building inside you now, a growing need that you only register when it’s too late. you’re too far into the moment, too entranced by the feeling to pull away. you let him do as he pleases with your pliant body, indulging in the slow, firm drag of his hands over your sides and the glide of his warm tongue against your flesh.

he kisses all over your skin like he needs to keep you warm, humming pleasantly as he brings his mouth to your shoulder. his fingers dip ever so slightly under your shirt, resting on your bare skin, a faint tickle against your waist. his teeth just barely scrape against your skin, and a tiny mewl slips out of you before you can think about controlling yourself.

he pulls his lips off you after that, face flushing red like he’s the one who made the embarrassing noise. cool air hits the saliva trail kai left on your neck, and suddenly you’re missing the heat of his mouth. your stomach’s still twisted up in knots, all worked up from kai’s relentless attention.

“i’m sorry,” he finally says, hands slipping out from under your shirt. his touch lands on your upper thighs instead, just below your hips. you try hard to push down the arousal that pools in your gut, fearing the possibility of making a fool of yourself even more than you already have.

“it’s okay,” you reply meekly. you can’t tell if the silence that fills the room is tense because it’s awkward or because everything feels so intimate. you have to put in a conscious effort to not let your hips buck against his, still perched on his lap. it’s only now that you realize how hard kai’s gotten beneath you, a prominent tent in his pants. you ignore it for both his sake and your own.

“w-we should stop,” he stutters out, loosening the hold he has on you like he’s ready to let you go. you tighten your legs around his, not wanting him to pry you off. this is stupid, and you know you should just go to bed, but you fear what will happen when you finally let the moment fall.

“yeah…” you agree quietly, even though your actions don’t match your words. you stay right where you are, and your eyes betray you when they dart down to his lips. they’re pink and coated with his saliva, and it doesn’t help you simmer down at all. you only feel more restless. his hands find your hips, holding you still against him. it seems like neither of you are willing to pull away.

his gaze flits behind you for a moment. “the movie’s over,” he says.

you hum and nod. it’s quiet for a few seconds as you think of what to say to fill the silence. “it was pretty good,” you say, making boring, meaningless conversation. you’re not thinking about the movie at all.

“yeah, it was,” he agrees. it’s almost like you can see the restraint he’s summoning upon himself to not pounce on you.

nothing seems to dissipate the tension in the air. you’re stuck staring at each other, and it’s like you’re both waiting for the other to make a move. his hands drift a little lower, sprawling out on your thighs. his large palms engulf your flesh so easily. you gulp.

your hands ease themselves onto kai’s chest, ignoring how firm and strong he feels under you. you only put your hands there to ground yourself. you’re only doing this to keep yourself sane. that’s what you’re telling yourself, at least.

“you got anything to do tomorrow?” you ask, voice shaky as you try to keep your tone casual. his fingertips inch up your thighs to breach into your shorts, slight enough to not need to mention it.

“no,” he answers a little breathlessly. your hands trail up until they’re resting around his neck. it would be easy to pull him in for a kiss like this, but you don’t think about that.

“me either,” you say, whispering now. you feel your heart pounding in your chest. there’s a pulse in your core, too, but you promised yourself you’d ignore that. you barely feel able to breathe.

kai’s eyes fall to your lips. you take the opportunity to let your gaze fall to his own, admiring the rosy swell once again. his hands tighten against you in a way that’s barely noticeable, but since you’re so attuned to every little thing happening, you catch it easily.

you find each other’s eyes again at the same time, and mercy finds you both then—you pull into each other hungrily, lips colliding like you can’t bear another second apart. he moans into your mouth, working against you like he needs to swallow you whole. you’re just as desperate as him, hands scrunching up into the fabric of his shirt as you push your tongue into his mouth.

he doesn’t part for a second, not daring to let up on his kiss, and you let him consume you completely. your mind is spinning, and all you can think about is how incredible his mouth is. he kisses like that’s what he was put on earth to do, diving into your mouth like he needs to taste you to survive.

you whine when his palm meets your clothed center, rubbing against your cunt like he knows how hard you’ve been holding back. you grind against his hand unabashedly, possessed by the need to sink into the pleasure he gives you. your hand travels down his torso until you’re palming the bulge in his pants. you work your hand over him in the same rhythm he rubs his fingers against you, calculated and needy.

you’re panting into his mouth now, leaving it wide open for him to swirl his tongue into. your legs clamp around his hand, feeling yourself nearing your peak, and you can’t stop whimpering and moaning. you feel pathetic, you feel like some bitch in heat, but kai seems to absolutely love it.

he pulls away from your mouth to praise you, “pretty. pretty girl. fuck, i really want you.”

you’re entranced by how swollen his lips have become, looking all the more sinful, making your cunt gush pathetically. your stomach tenses up, orgasm approaching quickly, and kai bucks his hips up into your hand. he seems to be getting close too.

“kai, need to cum, please, need it,” you moan, and he doesn’t let up on his rhythm against your core. you almost feel like crying. you can taste your high as it approaches, chasing it by grinding your hips against him faster.

“yeah, let go, cum for me,” he says, sounding just as broken and pathetic as you. your climax hits you like sweet relief, leaving you crying out as kai helps you make a mess of your panties. you feels kai’s dick twitch beneath your palm as you ride out your high, and you jerk your hand over him greedily until he’s spent and spilling his load into his pants. he throws his head back with a deep moan, thrusting up against you until he’s coming back down.

you’re exhausted, sinking against him and leaning into his chest. you don’t even have the energy to talk about the line you just crossed with him. he doesn’t speak up either, only running his hand down your back as he catches his breath.

a few minutes pass, and you think he might be asleep. the rise and fall of his chest is steady, and it almost lulls you into slumber as well. you’d be perfectly content laying in his arms and resting here, but you feel too gross and sweaty to stay. you let a few peaceful minutes pass before slowly prying yourself from kai’s hold—not without his sleepy refusals to let you go—and head off to go shower.

you don’t know if you should go back to the couch with him, or if you should lay in bed and give yourselves some space. you stay in the shower longer than you need to, not wanting to make any decisions that’s going to alter the course of your friendship with kai. you groan; you should’ve thought of that before hooking up with him. you lean your head against the shower wall, shutting your eyes tight. rationality only comes to you at the worst times.

at least you got off. at least he was nice. at least you won’t have to wonder what kai’s lips taste like anymore.

#im weak in the knees #not strong enough #nothing appropriate to say #MORE PLSSSSS #txt #hueningkai

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gyuubear · 5 days ago

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In my wolf era. I want men carnally. I blame the summer heat.

#biting at the bars of my enclosure

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gyuubear · 7 days ago

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prove it. — yeonjun x fem!reader

cw. yeonjun is implied to be an idol but it's not super relevant to the story, reader is jealous of another woman, established relationship, chubby!reader implied, friends to lovers implied, kissing, cunnilingus, nipple play, fingering, use of a butt plug, penetration (protection not mentioned), eating ass (f. receiving), a bit of exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, hickeys, marking, edging, masturbation, joi, "fat" as a positive descriptor, "I love you," pet names (baby, babe, love, my love), swearing, lube, mostly porn w little plot tbh, aftercare. notes. hello! i haven't posted in forever and i feel like i haven't written smut in a while so i may be a little rusty, lol. wc. 6.3K

Looking down at the city through the glass railing that lines the rooftop, you draw your knees to your chest. No matter how hard you try, staring at the city isn’t enough of a distraction to divert your mind from the images of them. But your jealousy is unwarranted; you know that. You weren’t even dating him at that time, but he knew how you felt and he felt the same way about you, but the timing simply wasn’t right. You were about to leave for three months and that’s no way to start a new relationship. He did anything and everything to try and get you off his mind—drinking, partying, sleeping with strangers, dyeing his hair, and…dating her.

Thinking about you sitting in endless hotel rooms, longing for him while he was kissing, hugging, fucking another woman is too overwhelming. That’s why you’re here. You’d wanted to surprise him after a long work day, but instead of finding your Yeonjun taking a coffee break alone in a dance studio while he scrolled Instagram, you found her all over him.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter if he was calling after you. You just ran and found yourself on the roof. But he knew where to find you. He explained he was trying to put a stop to it, but it still hurt. You couldn’t stop yourself from asking who she was even if you tried. But he always told you about his relationships and dates. He was your best friend; you told each other everything. But he kept her a secret from you.

“We never overlapped, did we?”

“Of course not. You know I wouldn’t do that.” Reaching for your hand, he brushes his thumb across your knuckles and asks, “You okay?” You nod, but he knows you too well. “Stop lying.”

“I dunno…” you shrug. “I can’t sit here and say I didn’t hook up with anyone while I was gone, but I never dated anyone. Just kinda stings.”

“I’m sorry,” he says seriously. “Listen,” he sighs. “I know it’s weird I dated her then, but I love you more than anything. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” And you want to believe him, really you do. Especially while you look into his eyes only a few inches away from yours while on the rooftop of his agency, stories above anyone else, alone as the breeze chills your nose and he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Prove it,” you say softly. He hums. “Prove it. Prove you love me more than anything.”

Seconds pass before he pulls you by your ankles, wrapping your legs around his waist and his lips fall into yours, kissing you so amazingly. His kisses still make you dizzy. Then he guides your body to lay on the ground, trailing his lips down your neck and chest, pulling down the hem of your shirt to access your skin, all while working at the button of your jeans.

“What if someone sees us?” You ask, breath heavy. There’s a low chance of that happening, but you can’t help but think about it.

“Let them.” Fully pulling your jeans off your legs, goosebumps prick your skin as it makes contact with the cold air. Stuffing his nose into your pussy over your panties, he inhales while his hands wrap around your thighs. Shaking his head to dive deeper, his nose teases your clit.

“Yeonjun…” you groan, letting your head fall back while his hair slips between your fingers. He’s not wasting a single second. Desperately moving your panties to the side, he spreads your pussy lips, dragging his tongue up your pussy so deliberately you may faint. The tip of his tongue teases your clit forever, never quite touching it.

When he finally flicks his tongue over your clit, you gasp and your back arches off the roof while your hip rolls accompany his movements. God, he’s so fucking good at eating you out. Sometimes you can’t believe it. It’s genuinely the best oral you’ve ever had. Slow at first, getting you all worked up and wet, then he dives right in, making your head reel.

Then he slides two fingers inside you, curling them up, perfectly hitting the exact right spot. He is absolutely gonna be the death of you. You moan, blissfully watching as a plane goes by thousands of feet above you. Can they see you? You’re not quite sure. Either way, it’s thrilling to think about. A couple hundred people watching as the sexiest guy in the world makes you feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

“Oh my fucking god,” you say, your chest heaving. He comes up for air, but doesn’t take his fingers out of you. As he makes his way back up to your face, he kisses you slowly, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, and finishing it off with a lick across your bottom lip.

“Let me take you inside,” he suggests. “I wanna worship your body for hours,” he whispers against your lips, nudging your nose with his own. “Wanna show you how much I love you. How much I crave you. How much I need you,” he says, punctuating each power word—love, crave, need—with a stroke against your g-spot. “Wanna make you feel things you’ve never felt before. Wanna make you forget every word you know except my name,” he keeps adding on to this incredible list, leaving wet kisses all over you. “Wanna make you so wet you drip all over my bed. Wanna make you cry from how good I’m making you feel. Wanna make you cum so many times you’re begging me to stop,” he says. “And then I’d make you cum again. Wanna taste every inch of you.” Finally taking his finger out of you, he sucks and licks every last bit of you up. “Wanna leave marks on you that stay for days so you never forget how much I love you.”

Which is more delicious? Him whisking you off to his bedroom to fuck you raw or him fingering you on the roof? The way your heart races at every glance of each glowing window across the street is almost too good to give up but the thought of him filling you to the brim with his cock is too tempting. And when he pulls his face away just enough to look down at you with those gorgeous-as-fuck eyes and his black hair barely hanging in front of his face and asks—

“Is that okay?”

Your body crumbles to dust. That contrast of whispering the dirtiest shit you’ve ever heard along with the sweetest form of gaining consent—literally asking—is overwhelming. Part of you scoffs at how something so bare minimum, something so basic decency as consent, turns you on so much.

But fuck you need him more than ever.

“Fuck yes,” you say confidently.

He barely gives you enough time to slip your jeans back on before lifting you to your feet to lead you to the roof access door, down the elevator, into his bedroom, and onto his bed.

While you wait on his bed for whatever’s about to happen, you watch as he takes his time unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. What shall he do with you? So many parts of him want to rip your clothes off and ravage you with fast, hard, and dirty sex; cover you in spit and sweat and cum until you’re trembling and begging for rest. But another part of him wants to do exactly what he said: worship your body for hours. Slowly, carefully, intentionally, tenderly.

Ditching his t-shirt, he smiles at you—not in an I’m gonna fuck you so hard way, but in a You’re perfection kinda way. Letting him take your clothes off so carefully like he’s unwrapping a vintage book waiting to be adored is one of the best parts of it all. Showered in love and kisses and attraction and compliments for who knows how long.

“I love your body so fucking much,” he says as his lips brush your collarbone, but his hands are everywhere else—your tits, tummy, hips, ass, thighs. Taking a beat to look into your eyes, he says, “I meant it.” You nod. “I’m gonna worship your body for hours.”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long to come, babe…” you trail off.

“Hm…” you can feel his smile against the sensitive skin under your breast. “Who said you have to wait? You can come as many times as you want.”

Relief floods every part of your body. You could already tell you weren’t gonna last long but he absolutely loves making you wait. Edging you until you’re begging him to let you—wait. His words from earlier, Wanna make you cum so many times you’re begging me to stop—echoes in the back of your mind. A couple orgasms is exactly what you need right now.

“Lay on your tummy, love,” he says gently. Face down, you hear him rummage through his bedside table drawer. The smell of eucalyptus lavender massage oil fills the air before his strong hands work through your tense shoulders, back, and ass. Perhaps you dozed off because the next thing you know, he’s turning you over to lay on your back. Then his fingers work through your arms, kneading your tits so good your breath hitches in your throat, then up and down your waist.

As you start to drift off again, his hand carefully slides up your thigh to gently cup your pussy—nothing vulgar or pushy, just resting his hand there while his other hand brushes all over your skin. You succumb to him, letting your hips roll as gentle as his touches. Then your body slowly welcomes his middle finger inside, no deeper than his first knuckle.

Are you floating? Flying? Spinning? You can’t tell—just that it’s warm and dizzying and that you can’t get enough of it. Then his fingers spread your pussy lips with slow precision and your breath catches. Your eyes burst open, but he shushes you, brushing his thumb across your brow, coaxing your head back onto the pillow. Your lashes flutter closed, the weight of everything melting under his hands. You ache at the loss of his finger from inside you, only for him to circle your pleading clit with a maddening patience. The touch is slick and deliberate, then his other hand finds your breast, palm gliding over your nipple in slow, teasing spirals. Every nerve is tuned to him as everything shrinks and dissipates like he has all the time in the world.

No more than three lazy circles later, he stops teasing your clit. One thumb stays on your nipple, warm and firm, while he leans down to flick his tongue over the other. Oh. He knows how much you crave this—how nipple play drives you crazy—and this time, he’s drawing it out. Every touch, every word, every slow stroke leading up to now has left you raw in the best way, so keyed up you don’t know whether to squirm away or pull him closer.

It doesn’t take long until you’re gasping, rolling your body involuntarily, and feeling so on edge you’re about to fall off something. And all he’s doing is playing with your nipples—rubbing then circling, biting then licking, teasing then soothing. Spit covers your nipple before he backs off, blowing cold air to perk it up. Gentle bites flicker your body like sparks, subtly like fireflies. Internally begging for something—his cock, his tongue, his fingers, anything to be inside you—but you don’t say a word because this alone feels too good to stop.

Then it sneaks up on you, a shiver that starts somewhere deep and unnamed. You’re holding it, but only for a second. Then you let it overcome your entire being. It crashes over you, an orgasm so strong it’s hard to believe it came from nipple play alone shocks you until you’re seeing stars. But it’s no longer those gentle fireflies. It’s lightning—bright, electric, and unstoppable.

While you catch your breath, he waits patiently and silently, not daring to ruin this moment. Giving you space to relax for a moment while he hums against your collarbone, skating his lips across your skin while he leaves tiny kisses that make your ears burn.

And fuck. It finally sinks in. You came. Just from him playing with your nipples. He’s never gonna let you live this down after tonight. And you know he’s gonna beg you to try it on him.

Right now, though, he doesn’t care about himself. You’re the only thing on his mind. And he’s ready to get back to it.

“That’s my girl…” he murmurs, smug and low. “You’re so fucking sexy like this. I want to memorize every way your body falls apart for me.” And fall apart you do. Your legs are still trembling from the last orgasm, but he’s already bringing you back up for another. “I just want you to feel good for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “That’s all I care about.” His middle finger finds your clit again, slow and careful, drawing soft circles that make you melt all over again. “You feel that?” he asks.

But there’s no way you can form a sentence, but he doesn’t really need an answer—he can feel it in the way your body responds. You simply nod with a blissed out, closed-mouth smile across your lips and he chuckles, basking in how right he is—he makes you feel so fucking good.

It’s almost embarrassing how much you crave this: slow, gentle, sweet, simply caring for you in the best way possible. Is it selfish that you want this to last all night long? Are you not allowed to be selfish once in a while? And it’s not like he’s not enjoying this—you can tell he loves this from how hard he is alone. But his subtle hip thrusts make that even clearer.

“Baby…” you whine pathetically.

“What is it, love?” He asks sweetly. “I’ll do anything you want, just tell me what it is.”

“Your mouth,” you murmur.

“Of course,” he hums, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, then your arm, and makes his way down toward your pussy where your clit is begging for his tongue all on its own. It doesn’t take long before you’re edging on euphoria again. You’re chanting his name, which then makes you chuckle as his Wanna make you forget every word you know except my name, plays in the back of your mind again. And you suppose he noticed too because you feel the smile tugging at his lips against your core.

How was he able to get you here again so quickly? Your body craves his touch and it surrenders to him every time. The heat builds low and fast, curling and billowing in your stomach like a firework ready to fire. There’s no point in holding back. Not only has he proved how much he loves you, he’s proven he can pull another orgasm out of you like it’s nothing.

But that doesn’t make this one any less intense. It’s sharp and deep and crashes through you in an insistence that leaves your fingers clawing at the sheets and your breath caught in your chest. The fireworks fill your body like a night sky—sudden, bright, and everywhere at once.

“How many orgasms are you planning on giving me tonight?” You ask breathlessly.

“Hm…at least five,” he says. Can you even handle five of his orgasms in one night? You’re not even halfway through and you’re exhausted. But who are you to say no? “I’m just trying to figure out what to do with you next.”

Still breathless, you mumble, “My plug—” trying to support yourself on your elbows, but he slyly encourages you to lay back down; he’s not letting you lift a finger tonight.

“Oh…” he says cheekily. “Oh, fuck,” he chuckles. You hum in question. “Just thinking about it in your little asshole. Made my cock twitch,” he says matter-of-factly as he starts looking through his bedside table drawer. It doesn’t take him much time to find it but first, “Get on your knees, my love.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your hips to put on a bit of a show. Well, as good of a show as you can give when your legs feel like jelly. Then his big hands grab your hip fat. To simply feel and squeeze. You can’t hear, “I love your body so fucking much…” enough. Your heart flutters every single time as if it's the first time you heard it. And, “I love you so fucking much, baby…”

And he’s continuing to prove it, you’ll give him that. Then he spreads your cheeks, shoving his face right between them while his tongue circles your hole, earning an insatiable moan as you resist the urge to double over in pleasure. How do you always forget how good it feels when he eats your ass?

It’s simply so vulgar—going from him worshipping your body in such a loving way to absolutely devouring your asshole with his strong hands on your hips, squeezing so harsh you’re certain he’ll leave marks and groaning as if you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

He’s always had a thing for your taste, even outside of the bedroom. Can’t help it; you’re too yummy…he’d whisper after licking your neck once the elevator door closed you off the world. Or leaving the tiniest kitten lick on the back of your hand before a kiss. Just a little secret between the two of you. But when you’re in bed, his fascination is on full display. So many parts of you glisten with his spit—tits, thighs, collarbone, lips, clit. One harsh spank to your asscheek wakes you up again, fueling the need for more.

“Baby, please…I feel so empty.”

He chuckles—low and amused—and you hear the soft click of the lube bottle opening. A beat later, the coolness hits you as he rubs the gel around your hole with his thumb. It jolts you, making everything feel hotter in comparison—your skin, your breath, his body behind you. But he’s not rushing. He never does. You picture his face: focused, patient, and just a little smug.

Then you feel him shift, and you know he’s slicking up the plug, almost certainly more than necessary. You relax as best you can, bracing for what’s about to happen. It always takes a bit of time. There’s the stretch, the sting, that moment where your body wants to resist—but he knows how to help you through it. And fuck, it’s always worth it in the end. The way it makes you feel full, needy, desperate—like he’s taking care of you in the filthiest way possible.

“Tell me when it hurts, love.”

“I know,” you say with a smile, voice soft but sure. He always checks, always looks out for your comfort. He presses in slowly, carefully, the plug stretching you open millimeter by millimeter. At first, it’s fine—just pressure—but then the burn edges in and your breath catches. “Okay…hurts a little,” you murmur, not quite wincing but close.

Immediately, he pauses and pulls back just a bit. “Take a few deep breaths for me,” he says, his voice low, grounding. One hand stays on your hip, steadying you, the other rubbing soothing little circles along your lower back while you focus on your breath.

It becomes a rhythm. A slow, patient dance of pushing in, holding still, easing out, and beginning again. Each time he sinks in a little deeper, your body adjusts a little more, until the edge dulls and gives way to something warmer, thicker, heavier. Then it’s finally fully seated inside. You let out a sigh of relief, giving yourself time to adjust to the feeling of it with more breathing and relaxing. He’s perfectly content watching the shimmer of that cute pink heart gem poking out of you.

Then he rubs soothing strokes down your hips and asks, “What now, hm?”

“I told you I feel so empty,” you whine.

“I’m not fucking you yet.” A strangled noise escapes your throat, unintelligible yet unmistakably disappointed. “You’re getting at least one more orgasm before I’m inside you.” Rummaging through his side drawer again, you know he’s going for a dildo but—

“I don’t want anything else inside me before you,” you say. “I want the first thing I feel with the plug in to be you—just you, nothing else.” Moving awkwardly behind you, he’s unsure of himself for the first time tonight. “Guess you’ll have to figure out another way to make me cum…” you sing.

“Get on your back,” he says, voice smooth but firm. His hands trace the curve of your hips, obviously killing time while he brainstorms. “Hmm…” His eyes search everywhere, and you can’t help but giggle. You’ve got him stumped. But then that smirk appears, slow and wicked. “Touch yourself.”

“What?” Your voice is higher than you’d like, breath catching in your throat.

“You heard me.” He tilts his head, eyes darkening. “Touch yourself.” Heat blooms across your skin, embarrassment and arousal twining together. You haven’t felt this flustered since the very first time he undressed you—that same nervousness, that same raw vulnerability. “Don’t be shy.”

You bite down on your lip, dragging your hand lower, fingers trembling. You’re caught in that delicious limbo, equal parts exposed and excited, your face hot as you fight the urge to hide under the covers.

“It’s okay, baby,” he coaxes, voice low, a little rough. “Why are you nervous?”

A shaky breath escapes and you look away. “I dunno…I liked you being in charge,” you say, the words slipping out in a rush.

“What if I told you how to touch yourself? Would that be better?” Reaching for your dominant hand, he kisses your palm, closing his eyes to savor the feeling of your skin against his lips before turning your hand over to kiss the back of it. Once he flips it back over and his lips meet the pulsepoint of your wrist, your spine tingles. Then he sucks on your thumb before letting spit pool in his mouth to douse your first two fingers, making them slippery and wet. “As if you need any help getting wet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask with a laugh.

“Touch your nipples for me,” he whispers, dodging your question while you do as you’re told. With the fire your body’s been feeling all evening along with the shyness you feel, they’ve become soft and tired. But, under your touch, they spark back to life, pebbling once again. “That’s it, baby.” It’s silly how much of an affect those three words have on you. “Look at you…” he groans, tilting his head to look at your pussy. “Check.”

“Huh?”

“I made you so wet you’re dripping all over my bed,” he says, casual as anything. “Just checking that off my list from earlier.”

You roll your eyes, a smug smile playing on your lips. “Pretty sure I did this to myself.”

“The first two orgasms didn’t contribute?”

You shrug, playing coy. “Nah. You just warmed me up.”

He snorts, brows lifting. “Oh, is that right?” He moves like he’s about to stand, brushing his hands off dramatically. “Well, if you’re so good at it, I guess you don’t need my help.”

“Wait, come back,” you say, the words slipping out before you can catch them. He turns around immediately, grin wide and shameless. “You’re still missing something off your list.”

“What’s that?”

“You haven’t left any marks. I might forget how much you love me.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he says, drawing it out, his eyes bright with that mischievous gleam. “You want me to leave some marks while you touch yourself?” You nod, perhaps a little too eagerly. His grin widens as he leans in, his lips a whisper away from your neck. “You’re not touching yourself yet, are you?” he asks, voice all slow and syrupy. You hum, shaking your head. “Good,” he says, sinking his teeth into the soft curve of your shoulder.

He takes his time, leaving one dark mark, then another, each hickey followed by a slow, soothing lick. “Start moving your hand down to your pussy,” he says. “But don’t touch yourself yet.” He nips at your ear, hot breath making you shiver.”Just drag your fingertips across your skin.” Your stomach jerks at the tickle and it makes your breath hitch. “Now the insides of your thighs.” Your hand inches closer to your center, your breath coming out in shallow, shaky puffs.

“Tell me you love me,” you gasp.

As his expression softens, his thumb traces slow circles over your hip. “I- love- you-” he says, each low and velvety smooth word punctuated by a kiss. He closes the gap between his lips and your neck again before whispering against your skin, “And I’m gonna make sure you don’t forget it.” He sucks gently, then harder, a deep, deliberate mark blooming just above your collarbone. His tongue soothes over it, slow and lingering. “Want everyone to look at you and know how good I make you feel,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“Can I touch myself yet?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whimper.

He pulls back just enough to catch your eyes, his gaze heavy and intense. “No. Not yet.” He pauses, his thumb stroking over that fresh mark. You nod in defeat. “Remember earlier when I pressed my palm over your pussy, baby?” You nod again. “Do that again.” You follow his instructions, your palm pressing down, letting relaxation spread through your body as you sink deeper into the mattress. His lips are a paintbrush, each hickey blossoming like a petal against your skin. Some marks are soft, faint as the blush of a rosebud. Others are darker, deeper, rich as crushed violets, spreading slowly beneath his mouth like flowers unfurling in the dark. “Feel how wet you are.”

“I’m so fucking wet for you,” you say, a whimper escaping you.

“I know you are,” he says. “Cup your pussy again,” he whispers. “Grind your hips against your palm,” he says, telling your body exactly how to move. “But that’s still not what you want, is it?” You shake your head. “I know,” he soothes. “I’ll get to your clit in a bit.”

Clenching your jaw, it takes everything in you not to touch exactly where you need most. He chuckles evilly. “Please…”

“Not yet, babe,” he chuckles. “Touch just around your clit, not right on it. I love hearing you whine and beg for me.” He takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

“Baby, please let me touch my clit. Please…”

“Go ahead. Touch your clit.” You finally indulge in yourself, letting your moans and body rolls roam freely. “That’s it.”

“God, you feel so good,” you say, throwing your head back.

“That’s all you,” he coaxes.

“I love it when you talk to me like this.” The knot in your stomach tightens—his voice along with your fingers are delicious. “I’m so close,” you say, close to being out of breath.

“Don’t stop,” he insists. You don’t change anything—you don’t need to. You know your clit better than anyone and the way he’s playing with your body and leaving marks adds that much more pleasure.

“Cum so good for me,” he says and you push yourself over the edge for the third time that night, moaning loudly through gritted teeth, letting the sparks fly, lighting your whole body ablaze once more. “Just like that,” he praises, along with all kinds of sweet things.

“I could do this to you forever…”

“Look how well you listen…”

“You’re such a good girl for me…”

When you finally open your eyes, your vision is hazy, your body weightless above the sheets. His gaze is waiting for you, dark and warm. He’s leaning over you, hair tousled, chest heaving like he’s just as wrecked as you are.

“That was fun,” you say, a breathless laugh spilling out, caught between a moan and a sigh.

He smirks, his thumb tracing one of the love bites on your chest. “Yeah?” he asks, voice dipping low. “Liked being good for me, huh?” You nod, a shiver running down your spine when his thumb presses a little harder, enough to remind you how each mark got there.

Two more left.

And thank fuck because he’s finally on top of you, stroking your pussy lips with his hard cock. If you thought he’d finally jump straight into it, you’d be wrong. He teases you with his words and hands, brushing your most sensitive spots and whispering dirty shit to you.

“Can’t wait to feel you squeeze around me like you don’t want to let go…”

“I’m so lucky I’m the only one that gets to make you feel like this…”

“You belong to me and me alone…”

But he’s still just teasing. “How long do you think I should make you wait again?” He hums, watching you writhe. “How long should I keep my cock from you?” You whine while he circles your clit with the tip of his cock. “Right there?” You shake your head. “No? You were begging me to let you touch your clit ten minutes ago and now you don’t want me to?” He tsks.

“Please,” you practically shout. “I can’t take it anymore…”

“Yes you can, baby,” he smirks. But he places his cock right at your entrance and his own confidence falters, groaning at the slightest touch of your pussy. “Shit,” he chuckles. His hips inch forward so slowly, letting his head inside, his mouth falling open. Already full from just his head and your plug, you feel everything just that much more. Then he pulls back out. You groan again, throwing your head back in a fit.

“Fuck you,” you laugh, resting your forearm over your eyes. He snickers but doesn’t know if he’ll last much longer than this himself. But you’ve still got two left. Either he needs to get you to cum as fast as possible—which might be difficult after three orgasms already—or he needs to pace himself significantly. Teasing you again, he lets his head prod your pussy, but then he finally pushes in as slow as he can physically force himself. It’s exhilarating and sensual and romantic and dirty.

The way the plug makes you feel along with him inside you is incredible, perhaps a bit too much but in the best way possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full and so his. Your eyes go wide at the sudden intensity, your body caught off guard by how overwhelming it is. But then you exhale slowly and surrender to it and let yourself bask in the feeling, relaxing all your muscles to feel everything—the shape of him inside you, the way his cock presses onto your plug, his hands on your hips.

The muscles in your body melt like glass in a fire, slowly and gently as you relax into the sensation of the thick weight of him inside you. The plug is tight inside, pressing just right while his cock shifts and nudges against it with every slow thrust, sending sparks through your spine. His hands are firm on your hips, grounding you, guiding you, worshipping you.

Speechless. That’s the only way you know how to describe this. You let him fuck you slowly and deliberately, succombing to the feeling of him and nothing else. Your body is slack as you let your throat react by itself, not holding any sounds back—you can’t even hear yourself over the immense amount of pleasure he’s giving you.

There’s this intense sense of trust and security in it, in letting him overcome your body; you know you can let your guard down with him. He’d never do anything you wouldn’t want. Everything is sparks and glitter and sugar. You can’t even hear him, if he’s even talking at all.

Then he rubs your clit with his thumb and you wake back up. “Fuck—” you gasp. It must’ve been a bit more sudden than you realized, because it made him pause, but it wasn’t long before he started back up with a smile. When he adds his other thumb to your nipple, that’s it. An echo of an orgasm is in the distance, like he’s calling you from across a valley, urging you to jump, telling you you’ll fly.

And you believe him. You answer him, doing what he’s asking by jumping off your cliff, but you don’t fall. You fly just like he said you would. Your orgasm is swift like a tornado and carries you through it, gusts of pleasure and want and need swirl around you as you let yourself trust him in the rawest way possible.

The tornado settles into a gentle breeze, bringing you back down as he holds you there, letting you feel everything gently, knowing exactly when to stop pushing your buttons so you don’t get overstimulated and it becomes impossible to make you cum again.

“How was that?” You can only muster up a lazy nod. “Can you give me one more, baby?” He asks, rubbing soothing strokes up and down your thighs. Blissed out, you nod happily. “Of course you can.”

He might start out slow, but once you’ve adjusted again to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, along with the plug stretching you comfortably, he picks up speed, finding the speed that both of you like. The way his demeanor shifts once he’s taking what he needs takes your breath away. His eyes darken, his brows furrow, and his jaw is clenched tight with desperation.

It’s fast and rough and downright nasty the way he fucks you. He’s got your legs spread wide open while he holds them in his arms, thrusting into you fast and hard, skin slapping on skin making it sound that much more desperate, and he’s breathing so fast you know he’s not holding himself back any more.

And this new dirty way of fucking you makes your pussy and ass feel so full and sensitive and overstimulated after the four orgasms tonight. Your nipples are tired and spent, clit’s worn out and puffy, lips swollen and red from kissing, hips and neck and chest covered in hickeys and love bites, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want more, more, more.

It should be impossible to come again after all that’s happened tonight, no? How the fuck does he do it? How does he still make your pussy clench around his cock after hours that should’ve left you immobile? You can’t help but give credit to the amount of care he’s taken with you. Not just tonight, but every single time you’re together. The way he looks at you—it’s the same whether you’re across the room or spread open right underneath him: an aching adoration that you feel in your core. Like literally nothing could ever tear you two apart.

But it overcomes you once again. Bursts of pleasure whip around your body as he fucks you right through your fifth orgasm that night. Five. What the fuck? Sometimes you don’t even cum five times a week, let alone five times a night. And to make it even more delicious, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t stop thrusting into you until his hips stutter while he spills inside you, filling you with cum while his mouth drops open, groaning like it’s the best he’s ever felt.

And it very well could’ve been. Fuck, edging himself for hours to lead up to one of the best orgasms he’s ever had. It was all so worth it, worshipping your body for hours, showing you just how much he loves you and can’t imagine being with anyone else but you.

You’re still coming down from your high when he pulls out, the sudden emptiness makes you miss him already. His hands are firm on your hips, but these are gentler squeezes this time. The room is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the silence heavy before he presses his forehead to yours, still slightly out of breath. He says confidently, “I love you so much, baby.” You may be the giddiest you’ve been all night—doesn’t matter how many times he’s said it tonight.

It doesn’t need to be said how exhausted you are. You whimper as he eases the plug out of you, and his hand immediately returns to your thigh, steadying, soothing. “I know,” he murmurs, voice thick with something more than lust. “You did so well.” It’s worship in its quietest form—soft touches and whispered reminders that you’re his favorite person in the whole world. He moves slowly, gently. Not just because you’re weak and spent, but because you’ve given him everything, and he knows it.

The towel is warm and damp when he presses it between your legs, and you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you. “Up,” he says gently, patting your leg, and you groan in protest. “I’ll carry you if I have to, but you’re going to the bathroom.” You try to glare at him, but your body is too soft, too pliant, too thoroughly taken apart. Still, you shuffle up onto wobbly legs, bumbling to the en-suite.

By the time you’re back in bed, he’s already waiting, holding out a glass of ice water and you can’t help but think that maybe this is what true love really looks like—your body aching, your heart steady, your mind blissfully blank—because he knows how to care for you even when the sex is over. Especially then.

You curl onto your side, and he’s there immediately, pulling you back to his chest, tucking you into the warmth of his body. You belong here. His fingertips trace lazy paths along your arm, slow and soothing, like sand slipping through fingers—gentle, rhythmic, grounding.

Up and down. Over and over.

The world fades. Your muscles unwind. And with his breath against your neck and that soft, steady touch guiding you, you sink into sleep—safe, satisfied, and loved all the way through.

#omg #SO GOOOOD #I love

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