lovelyannoyingcher - Tumblr blog

lovelyannoyingcher · 1 month ago

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☆ ａｌｗａｙｓ，ｆｏｒｅｖｅｒ ☆

☆ Pairing: rockstar!boyfriend!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader

☆ Genre: rocker au/smut/fluff

☆ Word Count: 3.3k

☆ Summary: You and your boyfriend are infamous for being the wildest couple on the rock scene. You do what you want, when you want. You live to raise hell and neither of you are showing any signs of stopping. At least not until you miss your period and it becomes abundantly clear that the party's about to end. So far you've done well keeping it a secret from Woo but the truth has to come out some day and when it does, will he still be standing by you?

☆ Warnings: you're 100% pregnant, reader has a lot of worries about it, breeding kink, mommy/daddy kink, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, pain kink, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, mommy, daddy), a smidge of angst, a lil man handling, body worship undertones, wooyoung in a crop top (❤️), gets real lovey dovey.

☆ A/N: I'm on a rocker boyfriend thing lately. It's my soft spot. I can't help it. I just wanted some sweet rocker boyfriend Woo being all soft for his girlfriend so here we are. As always, I hope you enjoy reading, my loves.

All that make up,

But it couldn’t hide her fears.

All that beauty,

But it couldn’t stop the tears…

The lyrics to one of your boyfriend’s songs. They loop in your head like a broken record as you lean into the bathroom mirror, swiping another layer of mascara across your lash.

The curtain’s up,

They’re all waiting for you now…

Perform. That’s all you ever do anymore. Your friends think it’s cool dating a rockstar. Sex. Drugs. Rock N Roll. It’s exciting, it’s glamorous, it’s exhausting, and—courtesy of the plus sign on that little test tucked away in your makeup bag—it could all be over.

You and Wooyoung have never talked about living a traditional life together. Marriage, kids, white picket fence. PTA meetings and Sunday dinners. You partied. You got wasted. You wrecked shit and loved every minute of it. So does everyone else.

Wooyoung's friends compliment you on the regular for your ability to keep up with him. “No other girl’s ever matched his crazy the way that you do” they say, “He usually chases them all off by now.”

But you? You stay. Not for the money or for the fame, simply because you love him more than words can express. No man’s ever been so sweet to you, so endlessly passionate. Late at night when you’re all alone he whispers to you that you’re his world. That he could never do any of this without having you by his side.

But what about the baby growing inside of you? Would he love that too or would it be a threat to the lifestyle he’s accustomed to? The thought twists your stomach in knots. There’s no time for this now. The album release party for Wooyoung’s band is in an hour and everyone will expect you to be there with bells on, ready to be the source of another wild story they can tell over breakfast in the morning.

Turning the music up on your phone, you pluck a tube of red lipstick from your bag, puckering your lips to dab it on. If you can’t silence the voices in your head, the least you can do is drown them out.

“You plan on getting dressed anytime soon or you going to the party in a towel?” Wooyoung teases, leaning in the doorway to watch you.

You roll your eyes, too busy putting on the finishing touches to spare him a glance. In truth you can’t bear to look at him. It’s sorta like how Wonder Woman has her lasso of truth. Wooyoung has this way of looking at you—into you—and your lies crumble every single time.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Maybe. I might be trying something new.”

Wooyoung sneaks up behind you, lacing his arms around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, softly kissing your neck. “Whatever you wanna do, babe. You know I think you look gorgeous in anything. Plus it’ll be easier to take off later.” Flashing you a playful grin, he eases your towel up, squeezing the lush meat of your thigh.

“Woo, stop it!” you snap, pushing his hand away, “I need to get ready so can you just not?”

You watch his smile drop, your words cutting him like knives. That rumor that artists are sensitive? It’s more than a rumor, it’s a fact, and exhibit A is your boyfriend. You never reject his affection. All he’s ever known from you is warmth but tonight you’re ice cold, your body tensing rather than giving into his touch.

Wooyoung backs away, studying you the way a detective might a suspect. “Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just paranoid.”

He clicks his tongue, observing the subtle clues in your reflection. Your bottom lip’s quivering, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. You keep looking up…down…away. You’re running from him without taking a step.

“Can you just look at me for a second?” he asks, the sweetness of his voice betraying the sharpness of his gaze.

You take a deep breath, tossing the lipstick aside. Gripping the edge of the counter, you do as he asks and stare into the mirror, your eyes locking in an instant. Your beautiful boy. You’ve always admired how he can manage to be so masculine and feminine at the same time.

And it’s not just in the way that he can make a crop top and a pair of jeans look like the toughest fit on earth. It’s in the way he carries himself. Rugged yet gentle. Vulnerable yet strong. You wonder if your baby would take after him in that way. Would he want it to? That’s the question that really eats you up inside. Would he want it? Would he want you?

Tears roll down your cheeks, streaking through the foundation you so painstakingly applied. A sound leaves you that you’ve never heard before. A slow, pained whine that comes from somewhere deep in your chest. You turn to face him and he takes you into his arms, making you feel safe in a way that only he can.

“I’m sorry” you sob, face buried in his chest, “Everything’s fucked now and it’s all my fault.”

Wooyoung has only seen you cry a handful of times and he swears it breaks him everytime. “Hey, don’t say that. Nothing’s fucked. If something’s wrong we can fix it but I need you to talk to me.” He cradles your cheeks, tilting your head up to get a good look at you. “You know you can never do anything wrong in my eyes, don’t you? If you needed me to help you bury a body I’d ask for a shovel. I need you to understand that.”

He means what he says, you feel it in your heart, but you can’t bring yourself to utter the words. They form on your tongue and die there as if by not saying it you can stop this from being real. Grabbing your makeup bag, you shuffle through the contents until you find it—the secret your lips can’t fix themselves to bear. The bag falls to the floor, contents scattering at your feet, and all that’s left is a test that you hold with the fragility of a bomb.

Wooyoung squints down at it, unsure what it is you’re holding at first. When reality hits him it knocks the air from his lungs. He’s jumped off of stages, hung upside down from ceilings, but none of it ever came close to this.

“Are you telling me you’re…”

“Pregnant” you sigh, “I missed my period so I thought I’d check and, yeah, according to six different tests I am.”

A tense silence dances between the two of you and a part of you wishes that he’d get it over with already. Reject you. Say he doesn’t want it. That he didn’t sign up for any of this. It’ll tear you apart but at least you’ll know.

Wooyoung rests a hand on your belly, rubbing it through your towel. His expression’s unreadable at first but ever so slowly his lips curve into a smile, “So there’s a little me in there? A little us? And you thought I’d be upset?”

“Aren’t you?” you sniffle, fingers trembling around the test. “You have the tour and your promotions. You’re in a different city every week. How does this fit into that?”

Wooyoung takes it from your hand, setting it aside, “Give me one second. Don’t move.”

“Woo…”

“Don’t move!” he shouts, disappearing down the hallway. You hear a door open and the faint sounds of shuffling. “You always say how impulsive I am and you’re right, I guess there’s some things I could think about more, but I’m not impulsive with everything.” He rushes back into the bathroom, arms hidden behind his back. “Some things I think about a lot and this is one of them.” He drops to his knees in front of you, revealing a small black velvet box in the palm of his hand. “I was gonna do this onstage this summer but the bathroom floor’s just as good, isn’t it?”

You wipe the tears from your eyes just in time to get a crystal clear view of him popping the box open. Inside sits a pear shaped diamond ring on a silver band sized perfectly to fit your finger. It’s the shiniest, prettiest thing you’ve ever laid eyes on and you can’t even begin to process that it’s for you.

“You’re right” he says, removing the ring from the box, “I do have the tour and the promotions. I am in a different city every week but when you’re with me it always feels like I’m home and I want that for the rest of my life…with both of you. So would you maybe, possibly think about marrying me?”

The tears are falling again but this time from an overwhelming sense of joy. One that blooms somewhere deep inside and spreads to every corner of your body. From the end of the world to the rest of your life? It’s enough to give you whiplash.

“I’ll marry you” you manage through the tears. You hold your hand out and Wooyoung slips it into your finger. It slides into place like it was destined to be there. The missing piece to a puzzle that’s slowly been coming together since the day you met.

Never in a million years did Wooyoung imagine you’d say yes. At the same time, he couldn’t even begin to picture a world where you didn’t. How could you ever think that he wouldn’t want a life with you? The man who has a stack of notebooks filled with songs about you. Crowds of thousands scream his name every night but the only voice he hears is yours. Your smiling face always waits for him at the edge of the stage and he looks at you now the same way he did then. Like the whole world centers on you.

You blink and his lips are at yours, your body pressed against the edge of the sink as his tongue intertwines with yours, deepening the kiss. He kisses you patiently…carefully, reveling in the taste of you as if for the first time. His fingertips skim your exposed thigh and this time you don’t dare push him away, a hum of pleasure leaving you as he ventures further inward.

“I look insane right now” you say, your awareness suddenly brought back to the wrecked state of your makeup.

Wooyoung laughs, trailing lipstick stained kisses down your chin, “I don’t know, I kinda like this whole Joker thing you’ve got going on.”

You gasp at his audacity but crack a smile despite yourself. “Oh, fuck you” you say, swinging your knee up to hit him right where it hurts.

Catching it just in time, he holds your leg at his waist, spreading you open to stroke your pussy beneath your towel. A hushed moan flows out of you and his mouth is right back at yours, eager to catch it.

“I’m just messing with you. You’re beautiful” he whispers, his tongue peeking out to lick your lips. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

His fingers slip between your velvet folds, closing around your clit until you make that one special noise that lets him know he has you. It’s not quite a moan, not quite a whine. Some melodic combination of the two that’s music to his ears when it finally breaks from you.

Heat pricks at your skin like you’ve stepped too close to a fire and you melt for him, all over his fingers. In a matter of seconds you’re dripping wet, painting his fingers in your glistening arousal. You shiver at the sensation of his knuckles dragging along your entrance, teasing you by pressing in the slightest bit before pulling away.

Wooyoung leans in, breath skimming your neck to give you goosebumps. “You’ll make the prettiest mommy. I’ve always thought that about you. How absolutely radiant you’d look with my baby inside you.”

His confession turns you on. You don’t need to admit it. Your body speaks for itself. Walls clenching around the tips of his knuckles. Nipples stiffening against the soft cotton. Your heart’s beating like a hammer and it only worsens when his fingers ease into you.

“I wanna hear you say it. Say, ‘I’m gonna make the prettiest mommy’” he instructs, the smooth rotation of his wrist too hypnotizing to resist.

“I…I’m gonna make the p-p-prettiest mommy” you stutter, grasping at the marble counter behind you to keep from falling.

Wooyoung pushes his fingers deep into you, guiding you up onto the counter as the pad of his thumb circles your sensitive clit. Resting his forehead against yours, he pumps his fingers in and out of you, soaking your thighs in your essence.

“Hmm, I don’t think you mean it. Make me believe you, baby.”

Your nails tear at the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto, “I’ll be the prettiest mommy. The prettiest…mmph…mommy.”

Your back hits the mirror, lashes fluttering away stars as he takes you by the neck, drawing you into another breathless kiss. Wooyoung drags his fingertips across your sweet spot, the muscles of his toned arm flexing the faster he pumps your needy core.

“Can you be a doll and do me a favor?” he asks, making it sound like any old request.

“Honey, pass the salt.”

“Can you hand me the remote please?”

You nod, it’s the only thing you can do when your walls are sucking the nail polish off his fingers. Sliding his hand down to the top of your towel, he gathers the material in his fist, tugging it away from you.

“Hold my hair.”

It’s the last thing he says before his tongue’s at your clit, his free hand reaching up to palm one of your supple breasts. He pinches your nipple—tugging, rolling—all with the perfect amount of pressure to make you clench even tighter. You push the hair back from his face, loose strands framing his sharp features as he leans his head back to gaze up at you.

His tongue’s flicking and curling, a grin painting his face at the bliss radiating from yours. He blows a cool breath against your pussy and a chill skates up your spine. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging it right from the scalp.

“Pull it harder, mommy” Wooyoung groans, slurping at your cunt between every word. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

You pull as hard as you can, nothing held back. You’ve all but scratched your name into this man’s back before. You know better than anyone else how devastatingly hard pain gets him. His cock is throbbing, the need to have you invading every thought that creeps its way into his mind.

Having you but not having you. Tasting you on his tongue but not having you wrapped around his cock. It’s heaven and hell but it’s worth every conflicting feeling to see you hit your peak, hips rocking into his face for more as you come down his hand.

Rushing back to his feet, he undoes his pants with one hand—the other still occupied by your spasming walls. You claw at his wrist, fighting to push him back. He’s far too deep. The pleasure’s too much. You’re falling apart and you can feel it, piece by beautiful piece. Wooyoung drags you to the edge, his cock springing free to replace his soaked fingers. You’re still coming when it slams into you, every thick, hard inch pulsing in all those places his fingers couldn’t reach.

“Woo, too much. I can’t…” you whine, the added stretch dragging your orgasm out even further.

He pouts, feigning sympathy, “But princess, look how good you’re coming for daddy. It’s a wonder how I didn’t get you pregnant sooner when you take my cock so well.”

“You’re supposed to be a nice daddy.”

Cupping your cheek, he brushes his thumb along your bottom lip making it shine with your arousal. “I am a nice daddy. Don’t you feel nice right now?”

Nice is not the word for what this feels like. Ice cream cones are nice. Walks on the beach are nice. Wooyoung bouncing you on his cock until your ears ring isn’t nice. It’s fucking earth shattering.

“Feels so nice, daddy. So…mmph…so nice.”

His hands find your sides, massaging the contours of your figure, and he can’t help but dream of all the ways your body’s about to change. He’s already in love with your body. Every stretch mark. Every curve. But to see you swell up with his baby? To feel how much softer you’ll get—how you’ll glow—it makes him feral.

Every thrust into your plush walls is amplified by a thousand. Warm pearls of precum meld with the remnants of your last orgasm making it slicker. Juicer. The sound of your bodies meeting is borderline filthy and you couldn’t pay him to stop.

“I want you forever” he says, fingertips ghosting your belly, “I want this forever.”

You take his hand, kissing his palm. He’s doing that thing where his eyebrow twitches. His eyes go glossy and he looks so lost, in you to be specific.

“You’ll make a very handsome daddy and a good one too.”

It’s not the dirtiest thing you’ve ever said to him during sex but it’s the sweetest. It hits all the same notes, emotion spreading through him until heat consumes his body. He knows what you mean now about it being too much. His knees are weak, a sheen of sweat forming on his skin as the tip of his cock swells, ropes of white decorating your insides. You rock your hips against his, maintaining the rhythm as he loses it.

“Fill me up, Woo” you beg, pulling him in for a kiss. “Need all of you.”

Tucking his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs back, bottoming out to give you all of him. If he weren’t kissing you, you’d be drooling. You’re intoxicated by the fullness, no corner of you left unclaimed by him.

You exist in this moment as one. Pulses racing, hearts thumping. You’ve never belonged to each other so completely. You never want this moment to end. Never want this high to fade. Even as it does you stay tied to each other, lips moving weakly as the tension in your bodies softens.

“I love you” he says, giving you a hug that’s adorably innocent for a man who’s still inside of you.

You settle into his arms, smiling to yourself, “Love you too, Youngie.”

Catching a quick glimpse at his reflection he notices that half of your makeup has transferred onto him. “Guess I look like Joker too now. Don’t think I can go to the party like this.”

“Shit, the party!” You grab him by the face, giggling when you notice. “Low key? You’re kinda right. Come here.”

Opening the pack of wipes by your side, you pull one out to clean him up but when you bring it to his face he pushes your hand down.

“Actually, fuck the party. I just wanna stay here with the two of you for a little bit if that’s okay?”

Wooyoung lays his head on your shoulder and you pet his cheek, your earlier worries so far away now that you can hardly recall them. Late night beers are about to turn into baby bottles, all those parties are about to become bedtime stories, and Wooyoung would trade it all in every lifetime to have this with you.

All that make up,

But it couldn’t hide her fears.

And with the three of you together, it’ll never have to.

#ateez x reader #ateez x female reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung smut #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez smut #ateez fluff #wooyoung fluff #chubby reader

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lovelyannoyingcher · 1 month ago

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hidden affections - kim sunwoo

pairing ☆ kim sunwoo x f. reader

warnings ☆ dom!sunwoo, !brothers best friend, !cheating (sunwoo gets cheated on), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), !while brother is home, !juyeon is readers brother and yuqi is his girlfriend!

word count ☆ 3.3k

this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. hope you enjoy!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

"juyeon, i can find a different place. i don't want to take your room." you told your brother over coffee.

"nonsense," he waves his hand to dismiss your statement, "i've been wanting to move out anyways."

you smile weakly at him.

you know that he hasn't been staying at his apartment and he is always over at his girlfriend's.

"are you sure sunwoo won't mind?"

"of course little sis, he is basically family."

you met sunwoo when you were 6 and he was 10.

during that time you were in your, "all boys have cooties." era.

by the time you were 13, you came to find yourself having a crush on your brother's best friend.

he problem was, he was 17.

you knew there was no way anything could happen between you two.

all you could do was watch as he grew older and became hotter.

you knew he only saw you as his "best friend's little sister."

all you could do is watch and hope that one day things would change.

at 14, they left for college. you lost all hope during this time.

you remember crying all night when they left.

you knew that sunwoo would never look at you the way you wanted after going to college.

during this time you couldn't help but measure yourself up to college girls. at 14, you felt so ugly, so worthless.

you only felt better when they came home for breaks. it was the only time you could be close to him.

but as you grew into a young women, you knew that he was never going to see you the say way.

but when you turned 18, you decided to go to the same school as your brother and his best friend.

at first, it was super nice. they were 22 and could buy you and your friends alcohol.

almost every weekend was spent doing something with them.

going shopping, watching movies, eating out, they really helped you get accustomed to college life.

that went crashing down when your brother got a girlfriend and soon after sunwoo got one too.

you took it as a sign to move on from your school girl crush.

you're first college boyfriend was sweet. cute dates, he would surprise you with flowers, and cute little presents. it was everything you wanted.

but in the end, it didn't work out. ending in your heart being broken.

you would blame it on him if you could. but you knew it was you.

your heart was never in it. always longing for the one boy that was untouchable.

that leads you to your current dilemma.

it's the middle of the semester, november, and there are no openings for apartments.

so you had to turn to your last option: your brother.

you know he always has a answer for his little sister and would do anything for you.

"come over tomorrow. we will get it sorted out. i promise."

"okay." you look down into your coffee with watery eyes.

he looks down at his apple watch.

"shit. i gotta go. tomorrow at 3. okay?"

you nod.

fun times, you think to yourself.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

as soon as your brother opens the door, you want to turn around.

not only was his girlfriend there (which you're fine with) but also sunwoo's.

you give them all a small smile, wanting to bawl as they watch you walk into the apartment.

the only people that give you a smile back are your brother's girlfriend, yuqi, and sunwoo.

sunwoo's girlfriend just glares at you. scowling as she attaches herself to sunwoo.

"how are you doing?" juyeon's girlfriend, yuqi, wraps her arm around you as you start the walk up your new room.

you open the door to your new room, "honestly yuqi, not good."

yuqi closes the door behind you two.

"was it that bad?" she frowns.

"no no, it was mutual. it has to do with sunwoo." you lean into her.

"oh shit. what? did you guys have a fling or something?"

"no but," you lower your voice, "i've had a crush on him since i was younger."

"oh!" she borderline yells.

she slams her hand over her mouth in a flash.

you're heart stops as you hear heavy foot steps and a slight knock on the door.

"is everything okay?" sunwoo asks through the door.

"yeah," your voice comes a little shaken, "we saw a spider. we killed it."

yuqi looks at you with soft eyes as she looks you.

"okay, i'm just making sure." sunwoo calls back before walking away.

you blow out the air that you didn't even know you were holding.

"i am so sorry babe, if you need me y/n, you call. i will kick your brother out for you." she smiles at you.

"don't worry. i'll be okay. it's only until i find a new place." you give her a weak smile.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

"fuck," you hear sunwoo's girlfriend moan.

you roll your eyes and roll over.

you thought he would have a little curtesy to let you know when to leave but he didn't.

instead you are laying in bed with your head between two pillows, like a child who is hearing their parent's having sex.

but, instead you are listening to the one boy you want but can't have.

you get up and find a pair of sweats. changing your pajama shorts out for them.

finding your headphones, you put them on and play music really loud as you make your way downstairs.

you throw on your crocs and grab your black hoodie that is resting on the dining room chair.

as you go to unlock the door, it opens.

you're eyes go wide as you see sunwoo standing in front of you.

you do a double take, looking at the stairs then back at sunwoo.

"what are you doing?" sunwoo asks with a puzzled look on his face.

"um..." you start as you pull off your headphones, not knowing what to even say, "i was gonna go on a walk to the store."

"y/n, it's 2 in the morning." he scolds you.

"yeah, but i kinda heard something I wasn't supposed to hear."

"come on." he grabs your hand and leads you back into the apartment.

when he shuts the door, that's when you hear the whine of his cheating girlfriend.

you watch as his face drops, angry quickly spreading.

he quickly makes his way to the stairs, running up them.

he bursts into his room and you follow along quickly. wanting to make sure that sunwoo doesn't do something stupid.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!" he yells.

his girlfriend quickly covers herself as the naked man rolls off of her.

"sunwoo, i thought you were staying at changmin's!" she exclaims.

"wow, i gave you a key to get away from your annoying roommate, not so you can fuck some other dude in my fucking bed." he shouts, a little quieter this time.

you stand there in shock. she knew you lived there and she still went through with cheating on sunwoo.

what did she think, that you wouldn't tell him if you found out?

"i'm so so sorry sunwoo. it just kinda happened. i promise you, it will never happen again." she begs him.

"get out." he says through his teeth.

"baby. i promise it won-"

he cuts her off, "i don't care. get out now."

sunwoo and you stand there as they both rush to get dress.

you stand by sunwoo and watch him as his jaw clunches. you can tell he is really holding himself back.

you can't even imagine how he is feeling.

"sunwoo, i am so sorry. i was going to go on a walk because i thought you were, ya know, together." you explain.

"i didn't want to hear you guys, i didn't know it was some-" he cuts you off by pulling you into a hug.

"it's not your fault. you couldn't have know unless you listened and i doubt you wanted to."

"i never liked her anyway," you breathe out, "she doesn't deserve you and you deserve much more than her." you say into his chest.

he gives a small laugh, "i wish i had a you, y/n."

you feel your heart start racing.

all you could think to yourself is, 'you could have me, if you want.'

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

it's been a month since you both found out that sunwoo's girlfriend was cheating on him. she ended up dating the guy. which made sunwoo depressed, which he expressed to you.

since that day, sunwoo has been stuck to you like glue. you could be cooking, watching tv, doing your homework, showering, out with friends, sunwoo was either with you or waiting for you.

you can't help to feel special. your heart racing every time he gets close, everytime he touches you. the butterfiles only multipling by the day.

today, juyeon, yuqi, sunwoo, and you are having a movie sleepover.

earlier in the day, you and sunwoo dragged his king sized mattress downstairs.

it was a struggle between you two. ending with you basically laughing your ass off as sunwoo pushed you, while you were on the mattress, down the stairs.

he was gonna sleep on the couch, you, yuqi, and juyeon on the mattress. you insisted that sunwoo could sleep next to you but he said, "i don't want it to feel packed"

right now you're sat next to sunwoo on the couch, you are all watch the twilight series, much to the guys dismay.

juyeon and yuqi are focused on the movie infront of them, when you feel sunwoo's hand creep to your thigh under the blanket you are currently sharing.

your eyes go wide and you turn to him. he has a devilish smile on his face as he holds up a finger to his mouth. instructing you to stay quiet.

his touch goes straight down to you stomach.

he moves his hand futher up your thigh before resting on your inner thigh. you shudder at the sudden movement.

he smiles as he watches the movie.

he slowly moves his hand over your clothed heat.

you nearly moan at the action but you keep quiet by biting you lip.

"these movies are actually kind of good." sunwoo speaks up.

"i told you!" yuqi perks up.

"what do you think y/n?" he smiles at you as he runs his hand over you clit.

"they are a classic-c." you barely get out.

the feeling of his hand so close to your heat has you dizzy.

"are you okay?" juyeon asks, knowing that something is up.

gotta love sibling telepathy.

"yeah, i'm just really hot in these pajama pants. i think i'm going to go put on shorts." you stand up, brushing sunwoo's hand off of you.

you rush up the stairs and dash to your room.

you shut your door and rest on it, taking in everything that has happened in the matter of minutes.

wondering why of all times, sunwoo is making a move.

you have been stuck to each others sides for a month. and now, when your brother is here, he wants to make a move.

you're not complaning though, you just can't help but wonder why.

you walk over to your dresser and pull out a pair of shorts.

just as you're going to pull down your pajama pants the door opens and quickly shuts.

there stands sunwoo, his gray sweatpants barely hiding his hard length.

he strides over to you, "do you see what you do to me?"

you shake your head, pretending to not understand.

he backs you into the wall near your window and grabs your hand, guiding it to his cock.

"you make me so hard y/n." he rasps in your ear.

you can feel a blush spread across your cheeks as he drops his head down to nip at your neck.

"sunwoo," you huff out, "juyeon is downstairs."

"i can't help myself y/n. you're driving me fucking crazy." his words go straight from your ears to your clit.

you continue to rub him through his shorts.

"so good y/n." he groans.

you sink down to your knees at the praise.

"you want my cock huh? with your brother downstairs? i thought you were concerned. now you're acting like a little slut."

all you can do is stare up at him with need. wanting to make him feel good.

"how can i say no to you when you're staring at me. so pretty." he brings his hand down to caress your cheek.

your hands make their way up his thighs and to the waistband of his sweats.

you pull them down slowly while staring up at him anticipation.

they pool around his ankles as you reach for the waistband of his boxers.

you slowly pull them down, wanting to see his dick hit his stomach.

you can't help but stare in awe at the sheer size of him. he isn't particularly thick but he sure does make up with it in length.

"so pretty on your knees for me." he grabs a handful of your hair.

you gasp at the sudden contact.

he hits his tip on your face before demanding, "open wide princess."

you comply and open your mouth just enough for him to slide in.

you watch as he throws his head back.

with his hands in your hair, he shoves his cock down your throat.

"mhm, fuck you're taking me so good."

you hollow your cheeks as he continues fucking your face.

his thrust get sloppy as you start to bob your head to take him deeper.

you keep going as he attempts to pull out.

wanting to taste his cum.

but he has different ideas as he pulls out of your mouth.

he quickly pulls you up and crashes his lips onto yours.

you happily oblige, giving him the same energy.

the only sound in the room is the sound of lips moving.

he pulls back slightly to tell you, "i need to fuck you."

before you can respond his lips are back on yours and he turns the two of you.

he steps out of his pants as he starts to walk forward.

your back is to the bed as he walks you to the bed.

when the back of your knees hit the bed, you fall back.

he takes this time to grab you by the hips and pull you to the edge.

"these need to come off." he pulls your pajama pants down in one motion. leaving you in your black lacy panties.

"fuck, you're so hot y/n." he groans as he kissed up your thigh. you throw your head back at the feeling.

"can i take these off?" he looks up at you.

you nod in need.

"i need your words baby."

"yes, sunwoo please, take them off."

"anything for you pretty girl."

your stomach flutters.

he doesn't even take a second before he is nose deep into your cunt.

you fist the sheets as he starts with your clit, running his tongue down to your opening.

"oh shit." you gasp out.

he takes this as a sign to start pumping his tongue in and out of your wet cunt. adding two fingers as he eats you out.

he is sliding his fingers in and out at a steady pace as he continues pumping his tongue in at the same time.

you arch off the bed.

"sunwoo, fuck if you keep doing that i will cum." you moan out. trying to keep quiet.

he doesn't say anything. instead he brings his other hand down from your waist and to your clit.

it only takes one touch before your coming undone. twitching as you cum.

"sunwoo." you grab his hair.

he takes your hands from his hair and pins them together.

slowly crawling ontop of you.

"you taste so good. i could've gone all night but i need to be inside you now."

you shake your head in need. wanting to feel him fill you up.

he pins your wrist above your head before looking down into your eyes.

his big beautiful chocolate eyes send a shiver down your spine.

"i need you to be quiet y/n. can you do that for me?"

you nod, "yes sunwoo, i will be so quiet."

with this, he takes his cock and guides it to your entrance.

you can feel the stretch as he fills you up.

it's once he's all the way in when you nearly shout at the feeling.

he brings his hand down to cover your mouth.

he's so deep that he can touch your sensitive spot without even moving.

your eyes roll to the back of your head once he starts moving.

"fuck baby, you like that?"

you shake your head profusely. unable to form words.

he thrusts at a steady pace. everytime he hits that spot, you jump.

arching your back as you thrash your hands in an attempt to grab at something.

"you look so pretty baby. are you ready? i'm going to speed up."

you nod, bracing yourself for what is to come next.

picking up pace, he fucks you into the bed.

you are nearly screaming at the feeling of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over.

your legs shake as you get closer.

"fuck y/n, you're gripping me so tight. are you getting close?"

you nod as tears start to fall from your eyes because of the stimulation.

"can i cum inside you? i can buy you the pill but i really need to fill you up." sunwoo whispers into your ear.

he lifts his hand off of your mouth for your response.

"yes fill me up please." you cry out. still trying to be quiet.

"okay baby, i wanna hear you cum. can you be quiet?"

"mhm." you bite your bottom lip.

he speeds up more as you continue to bite down on your lip. drawing blood.

"fuck y/n, i'm getting close." his thrusts get sloppy.

"me too, please don't stop." you whine.

he listens and continues slamming into you.

as you feel his hot cum spill into you, you feel the ball in your stomach explode.

you grab him as you feel your orgasm hit you like a truck.

biting at his shoulder to keep from screaming.

he slumps against you, making sure to keep the majority of his weight off of you.

"y/n that was amazing."

"it was." you breathe out, finally coming down from the amazing orgasm your brother's best friend gave you.

"we should probably get back down stairs soon." he lifts off of you.

you prop up on your elbows, "this wasn't just a one time thing, right?"

"of course not, one second i'll be right back." he dresses quickly and rushes out of the room.

you are still in the same position when he comes back.

with a damp towel, he cleans his cum off of your thighs.

"as i was saying, no it's not just a one time thing y/n," he helps you to put your clothes on, "i like you. like a lot."

you smile at him as he pulls your shirt over your head.

"i like you too sunwoo."

he grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet, catching you as you almost fall.

"i don't think i can walk." you sit back down.

"shit okay, umm i'll go tell them you're not feeling well."

he rushes down the stairs.

you lay back down and laugh.

hearing him rush back upstairs so quickly you prop on your elbows again.

"they left and they left a note."

he hands you the note which is scribbled on the grocery list paper.

'you guys are loud as FUCK. please tell us to leave before you do that shit again.'

you laugh at the note.

"i thought i was being somewhat quiet."

sunwoo tilts your head up, "obviously not." he kisses the top of your head.

"can we watch a movie?" you ask as you scoot to the head of the bed.

"anything you want y/n." he sits next to you.

the movie doesn't last long before he is on top of you again.

#kim sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo imagines #kim sunwoo fluff #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo hard hours #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #the boyz angst #the boyz smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #smut

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lovelyannoyingcher · 1 month ago

Text

His #1 Fan - Haechan

Pairing: !idol! Haechan x perv loser fangirl! gf! reader

Genre: idol! au, smut

Synopsis: You told him you were just a fan. But behind closed doors? You were obsessed—saving every fancam, moaning his name into your pillow, and running a secret fan account filled with god knows what. Haechan never suspected a thing… until he came home early and found it all. And now that he knows what you really are?

A pervert.

Warnings: smut. !mean/hard dom! haechan, loser/perv sub!reader, reader has an unhealthy obsession with him and is lowkey creepy at times… mutual masturbation, phone sex?, size kink, oral (giving), fingering (receiving), sex toy use, pillow humping, HEAVY humiliation and degradation, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 5.4k words

A/N: Fair warning—this fic is pretty disturbing, and if you’re not comfortable with any of the tags above, please refrain from reading. This one’s way more intense than most of what I’ve written before.

Also, sorry for disappearing for months… I had zero motivation to write until now!!

AND I did not forget about the NCT prompt requests!! A bunch of them are still in the works, so keep an eye out

You were a fan first. Always.

You’d been following Haechan for years. Not casually. Not like one of those girls who watches a few stages and thinks she’s obsessed because she knows his birthday and blood type. No. You were deep into it. Sick with it. You're the kind of fan people make callout threads about.

You studied him.

Every stage outfit—categorized by tour, color scheme, and accessory. Every fancam—even the shaky, blurry 360p ones where the mic check overshadowed his voice—downloaded, backed up, renamed, and stored in folders sorted by era, hair color, etc. You had tags for expressions like his smirks or lip bites. Livestreams were recorded the second they went up, even the ones that got deleted halfway through. You had them saved forever.

You had clips titled things like "his moan???" and “rude ass stare.mp4.” You watched them on loop.

You came to them.

At first, you told yourself it wasn’t that bad. You weren’t trying to date him. You didn’t want to be his girlfriend. You wanted to be fucked. Used.

You wanted to be some stupid little fan he could bend over the edge of a hotel bed and ruin—nothing but a warm hole to fuck until your throat was raw from moaning and your legs were too weak to stand.

Your private account—@haebrainrot606—was the place where you said all the shit you’d never admit aloud.

he laughs like he knows i’d let him use my throat if he asked

i just know he gives the craziest head i want his face shoved in between my legs

i want to make a mess on his thigh and ride it till i cry

The tweet that went viral wasn’t even your worst one.

i want him to ignore me while he jerks off. just use my mouth. don’t even look at me

15k likes.. People were going crazy in the replies. No one knew who you were. You never posted your face. But your followers? They knew. They understood. They were sick just like you.

You weren’t a fan.

You were a pervert.

And you were fine with that.

Until it stopped being a fantasy.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You were working some nothing backstage job at a music show—wrangling cables, keeping your head down, trying not to get caught staring. You tried not to stare too hard when he walked by.

But he saw you.

He looked at you.

Really looked.

He asked for your name, then asked if you were free that weekend—and you said yes, way too quickly. You went out that weekend, nervous as hell, trying not to shake through the whole thing. You lied—told him you liked his group, but that you weren’t really into K-pop like that. You tried to act cool, like you weren’t always imagining him bending you over in one of the backstage closets and fucking you raw.

He honestly thought you were cute.

You started dating not long after.

Nobody knew. Not the fans. Not your friends. Not your mutuals on Twitter who’d die if they found out the girl thirst-tweeting about getting face-fucked by Haechan was actually dating him.

He didn’t know either.

Not about the account. Not about the folder on your phone marked simply “H.” Not about the screenshots of his hands or the dozens of clips of his hips during choreography. Not about the draft in your Notes app describing him bending you over his kitchen table and muttering, “Don’t fucking speak unless it’s to beg.”

He didn’t know you got off to them. Regularly.

He had no idea you watched his fancams with a vibrator pressed to your cunt. That sometimes you got so high on him, you ignored his texts just to ride your own hand through another orgasm.

He thought you were shy.

He thought you were sweet. Innocent.

He thought you missed him when he went on tour because you loved him.

You did. That part was true.

But you also missed the weight of his cock on your tongue. The way he grunted when you gagged around him. The way he groaned—low and casual, like he didn’t even realize it. You missed how sometimes—just sometimes—he’d look at you while you were on your knees like you’d pissed him off, like he was two seconds away from saying ‘shut the fuck up and take it.’

You missed that look.

You loved him so much it made you sick. Loved the way he touched you like you were breakable. Like he was holding back. Loved the weight of his body over yours, slow and deep, fucking the air from your lungs one thrust at a time.

You wanted him to know.

You wanted to show him the account. Scroll through every tweet. Every draft. Every voice note of his moaning that you looped until your thighs were slick and your sheets were ruined.

You wanted him to snap.

You were soaking, just thinking about it.

His hoodie clung to your skin, black and oversized, still heavy with his cologne. You had your vibrator in one hand, your phone in the other. Fancam loaded. Volume low.

You rolled onto your stomach, shoved a pillow under your hips, and tucked the vibe against your clit.

You were already wet. The second it pulsed, your breath stuttered. The buzz vibrated through your spine, soft and relentless. Your hips rolled down into it, desperate for pressure, for anything.

The screen showed him on stage—sweat-soaked, hair messy, jean jacket clinging to his shoulders. He was practically fucking the air, like the audience wasn’t even there—like the lights, the screams, none of it mattered. His eyes stayed locked straight ahead, jaw clenched, hips grinding with that same brutal rhythm, like he was already inside someone. Like he knew you were out there, watching him lose control—and wishing it was you he was doing it to.

And God, his face. That smirk. Those eyes.

You pressed the vibe harder.

Your moan slipped out soft and broken. Your thighs clenched. You moved against it, slow and messy, your slick coating the pillow underneath you. You didn’t care. Your body was already curling, every nerve drawn tight.

“Fuck…”

The moan echoed through your room, quiet but desperate.

Your mind filled with his voice—imaginary, yet it felt so real

“You’re really humping a pillow, baby?”

You gasped. Your hips bucked. Your hands twisted in the sheets.

“You get off to me like this every night, huh?”

You did.

And you were so close.

“Fucking pathetic.”

You came fast and hard—legs twitching, hips jerking, body trembling.

But the shame didn’t stick.

Because you weren’t done.

You didn’t want to be done.

You turned the vibe higher. Pressed it back against your clit.

You were sobbing. Moaning through it. Guttural, aching sounds you couldn’t even bite back.

You couldn’t stop. Couldn’t breathe.

And then—

Your phone rang.

Your whole body jerked. The vibrator still buzzed mercilessly against your clit.

Caller ID lit up the screen.

Haechan ♥️

Your heart dropped. Your brain fried.

You stared. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

And then you answered.

“Hi,” you gasped, voice hoarse and fucked-out.

Silence.

A pause.

Then his voice came through the line, low and smug, and knowing.

“You sound fucked out already.”

You choked on air.

“That for me?”

You whimpered. A sound so broken it wasn’t even a word.

He laughed.

And that was when you realized—he knew.

“Jesus, baby,” Haechan said, voice soaked in disbelief. “You miss me that bad?”

You nodded before you remembered he couldn’t see you. Tried to speak, but your throat clenched around the sound. The vibrator was still humming against your swollen clit—slow, cruel pulses dragging you up and down the edge like it had all the time in the world to make you suffer.

“What are you doing right now?” His voice dropped, smoother and a little darker now. “Tell me.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t even breathe, let alone form words. Shame burned through your face, your chest, all the way down to your trembling thighs.

He clicked his tongue—sharp, almost condescending.

“Oh my god. Are you actually touching yourself right now?”

The orgasm that had been teasing at your spine flared hotter.

“I didn’t think you were serious. You really can’t help yourself, huh?” he murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Bet you’ve been humping that sad little pillow of yours like it’s my thigh.”

You choked on a moan.

He heard it.

“Aw, baby. You’re so fucking gross.”

He wasn’t mad. That was the worst part. He sounded fond and weirdly amused. Like the whole thing was endearing—your soaked sheets, your ruined underwear, your whimpers breaking apart in the back of your throat.

“You got the vibe still on?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you gasped. “Still—still on—”

“How long have you been like this?”

You had to think. Or maybe just lie.

“An h-hour?” It came out small. Shaky. Fragile.

He exhaled through a soft laugh—dark, amused, and just a little breathless.

“Jesus Christ.” A pause. “Did you cum already?”

You hesitated.

“…Twice.”

His groan bled into the speaker. It was quiet, low, and raw. It sounded like it had slipped past his teeth before he could hold it back.

“Fuck. You’re obsessed.”

You whimpered again, full-body tremble, everything clenched and aching and tight.

“Say it,” he said, voice cutting like a blade between your ribs. “Say what you want.”

You wanted to tell him you’d been jerking off to his fancams, but instead, you just said, “I want you to use me,” the words spilling out all at once, your voice cracking. “I want you to know how desperate I am. Please, Haechan, I want to be yours, I want—”

Your breath caught in your throat. The vibrator ground against your clit like it wanted to break you, and your whole body tensed with a cry.

“Keep going,” he breathed. “Let me hear you, baby.”

You didn’t know what you were saying anymore. It poured out of you—shameless and breathless.

“I think about your dick every night. I dream about your voice, your fingers, the way you fuck—rough, mean, fast—I want you to choke me—”

You screamed as it hit you.

Your orgasm exploded through your spine, brutal and unstoppable. You bit your own arm to keep from sobbing out loud. Your legs locked up, your hips twitched, and your cunt throbbed around nothing, dripping slick down your thighs and into the ruined pillow beneath you.

The vibrator kept buzzing.

Too much.

You clawed at it, yanked it away with shaky fingers, body twitching uncontrollably. You were soaked. The pillow beneath you was drenched. You couldn’t see straight and your vision blurred,

He was still on the line.

You heard him breathing slowly and steadily.

“…Are you okay?” he asked finally, voice wrecked. Like he’d been jerking off the whole time and was pretending not to.

You nodded, then laughed, the sound breaking apart halfway through.

“No,” you exclaimed. “I’m fucking exhausted now.”

He let out a breathy laugh at your response; he found it cute—how easily you fell apart, how quickly you turned into a desperate, needy mess just for him.

“I’m coming home in two days, by the way,” he said, tone soft but heavy, like a warning, like a promise.

You swallowed hard.

“You better be ready.”

You weren’t.

Not even close.

Two days later, he didn’t knock.

No warning. No text. No call.

He just walked in.

You were curled up in his bed, legs folded beneath you, phone glowing in your hand, face buried in his pillow like you were trying to smother yourself with the scent of him.

The same video played on your screen. The one you’d watched too many times. Him in the clear box. Sweating, smirking, thrusting so deep into the air it felt personal. The volume was too high. His voice filled the room—hot and arrogant and cocky—and you were too far gone to notice the door.

But you heard his voice in real time.

“What the fuck is this?”

Your blood ran cold.

You turned slowly. Almost robotically. Like maybe if you didn’t move too fast, you could lie your way out of it.

He stood in the doorway. Still. Calm.

Too calm.

His eyes tracked everything— your flustered expression, your soaked panties half-pulled down your thighs, the spent vibrator glowing faintly at your side. And your phone. Playing him.

You moved too late.

He was already crossing the room, grabbing the phone out of your hand. You didn’t even have time to blink.

He saw everything.

The tweets. The clips. The saved voice notes. The smut drafts in your Notes app.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

His thumb flicked across your screen.

Then he read one out loud.

“‘I want to be manhandled by Haechan so bad.’” His gaze snapped up. “Wow.”

You opened your mouth.

Nothing came out.

He scrolled again.

“‘I want him to use me so bad I don’t give a fuck anymore.’” His head tilted slightly. He looked almost impressed.

“Damn, baby.”

You scrambled. “It’s not—I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean what?” he cut in, voice sharp now. “Didn’t think I’d find out?”

You fell silent.

He laughed. A single, low sound, cold and amused.

“All this time,” he said, stepping closer, eyes scanning your face like you were something he didn’t quite recognize. “You’ve been getting off to me in secret. Watching me over and over, like my fancams were made to feed your obsession. Lying to my face. Playing innocent.”

He stepped closer, phone still in his hand, and you instinctively backed up against the headboard.

“You’ve been jerking off to me like a fucking pervert. Fucking your pillow like a bitch in heat. Did you even want me, or did you just want to get off?”

You whimpered. Shook your head. But it was useless.

He was already reaching for you, already grabbing your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks until your lips parted with a soft gasp.

“You’re fucking lucky I like you.”

Then he climbed onto the bed, knees pinning your thighs down, eyes flashing with something darker than desire.

You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes stayed down, body trembling like it knew what was coming.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely a thread.

“Oh, baby,” he muttered, dark amusement curling through every syllable. “You’re gonna be.”

He dropped your phone onto the bed with a loud, deliberate thud—screen still lit, still open to your account—and you flinched like it’d struck you.

Then his hand was on you.

Fingers curled under your chin, rough and possessive, tilting your face up until you couldn’t look anywhere but him. His grip was firm, his eyes burning with something far beyond anger.

“You ever think about telling me?”

All you could do was swallow hard; your throat tightened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him.

“You were gonna take that little account to the grave, huh?”

Still nothing.

He scoffed, like he already knew. Like he’d already read every tweet, every caption, every sick little reply.

And then—without warning—he yanked his hoodie off your body. The fabric dragged across your skin as you gasped, arms instinctively crossing over your chest like you could shield yourself from his gaze.

Pointless.

You were bare underneath. Exposed.

He looked at you slowly as if he was analyzing you.

And everything in his face changed.

His anger didn’t even go away. It just shifted into something colder, hungrier. His eyes darkened, dragging slowly and deliberately down the length of your body, lingering at the subtle twitch of your thighs. His gaze caught where your slick had already started to spill, glistening at your swollen cunt—leaking like you were begging without words.

He looked at you like it was the first time—like he was finally seeing you the way you’ve always seen yourself.

“You were jerking off to me just now, weren’t you?” he asked, voice low, deadly calm.

Your face burned. “Y-Yes.”

He didn’t even blink. “You’re sick.”

You nodded. “I know.”

He stepped closer, closing the space between you in one stride. One hand reached for the back of your neck, gripping tight, fingers splayed wide, ownership in his touch.

“You’ve been jerking off to me every night like some pathetic loser,” he growled, pulling you close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. “You moan into your pillows while touching yourself to the thought of me. You even write your dirty little fanfics and tweet things you’d never dare say to my face—still acting like you’re not already mine.”

“But I-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “I’m not done.”

You shut it.

His eyes dropped again, scanning your trembling thighs, the way your fingers twitched at your sides. The way your body was begging without saying a word.

“You couldn’t wait two days?” he muttered. “Two fucking days without touching yourself like a slut?”

You shook your head, barely breathing.

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“No self-control,” he whispered.

His hand drifted from your throat, down over your chest, between the curve of your tits, across your stomach, slow enough to make you tremble.

“You like this,” he said. “Being caught? Being humiliated?”

You opened your mouth to answer.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“…Yes,” you whispered, throat tight. “I do.”

His fingers skimmed your thighs, teasing the inside, not touching where you needed him—just grazing, just letting you squirm.

“Now you’re gonna sit here,” he said, voice rough. “And you’re gonna watch me go through that little fan account of yours. Every tweet. Every thread. Every disgusting thought you’ve had about my dick.”

You nodded quickly, breath hitching.

The second he told you to drop—you did. Your knees hit the floor like it was second nature to you.

He didn’t waste time.

Didn’t even look at you for long. Just unzipped his pants, pulled his cock out—hard, angry-looking, flushed to the tip like it took every tweet personally.

“Open,” he ordered.

You opened your mouth, and he shoved his cock past your lips without hesitation. No warm-up, no mercy. Just thick, heavy weight pushing into your throat like you were nothing but a hole to fuck. You choked immediately, lips stretching wide, spit spilling down your chin.

Both hands tangled in your hair as he held your head in place. Then he started to move.

“Let’s see if you suck dick as good as you tweet about it.”

You gagged, eyes watering. You tried to keep up—to breathe through your nose, relax your throat—but he didn’t give you the chance. He used you. Fucked into your mouth like he owned it.

When your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, he chuckled darkly.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” he muttered, pulling you back just far enough to watch the spit stretch from your lips to his cock. “You like this. You like being used.”

You nodded, tears sliding down your cheeks, spit dripping down to your chest. You were shaking.

“It’s pathetic.”

He shoved your head down again, and you took it. Gagged, swallowed around it. And he still didn’t stop.

He grabbed your phone with one hand and started scrolling again—Like your sobbing throat and strangled gags were nothing more than background noise to him, just his new favorite sound.

Your head already bobbing, spit-slick and twitching from every shove, every taunting roll of his hips like he was trying to bruise your esophagus on purpose. He had one hand tangled in your hair, the other casually lifting your phone, thumb swiping upward as if your tears pooling down his thighs weren’t even worth acknowledgment.

"Oh, what’s this one say?" he mused, even as you spluttered, spit bubbling around his shaft. He tilted the phone slightly, screen lighting his cheek with that faint glow.

"'If he looked at me like that we’re fucking in that box in front of everyone I don't give af.'"

He barked a laugh and shoved his hips forward—not hard, just deep, intentional, burying himself until your throat was full of him and nothing else. Until your nose was pressed up against his happy trail and your eyes blurred with tears.

"Did you actually tweet this? " he taunted, holding the phone up, showing you the exact fancam—the fancam that you came to so many times.—paused right on that moment. His own eyes staring into the camera, pupils dark, jaw tight, every muscle in his body glistening in that glass box during that impossible performance. He hadn’t broken eye contact once with the lens, and you knew it. You’d watched it a hundred times. You tweeted about it.

He thrust again and your whole body jolted, a garbled whimper dragging out of your chest as he tapped the screen, watching himself lock eyes with the camera. With you. Over and over. That same unrelenting stare.

"Fucking in that box in front of everyone, huh?" he repeated, half-laughing now, breathless from how tight your throat clamped down when he quoted you. “God, you’re such a slut… wanting me to fuck you in front of all those people.”

You tried to breathe, tried to speak, but he just rocked into your mouth again, harder this time, making your shoulders hitch and your lungs beg. The phone was still in his hand, still glowing, still showing the loop of him staring into your soul.

“Bet you only said that so everyone would know I belong to you.”

God, he was so right.

You liked the idea of every single one of his fans, your mutuals, your followers, the whole damn world—watching that fancam and reading your tweets and knowing none of them could ever have him. Because he belonged to you. And more than that, you belonged to him.

You were his favorite fangirl.

Your whole body jerked, trembling. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room as your throat fought to accommodate all of him and failed, again and again.

You were choking. He was scrolling. Perfect harmony.

His expression twisted, something between disgusted and turned on.

Then he pulled out with a wet pop, shoving your head aside like you were nothing more than a toy for him to use.

“On the bed.”

You scrambled up, legs barely working, knees weak as you crawled onto the mattress—still damp from earlier, still smelling like your last orgasm. You lay back, legs spread wide, open like muscle memory.

He stared.

Then smacked your clit.

Hard.

You screamed, body arching, hands fisting the sheets.

“You’re soaking just from me being mean to you?” he scoffed. “God, you’re such a fucking loser.”

Then he sank two fingers inside you—deep, rough, fast.

No warning.

They curled immediately, stroking the spot that made you jerk with a cry, your whole body thrumming with need.

You tried to breathe. Tried to stay still. But he was relentless—crooked fingers, wet sounds, his thumb grazing your clit just enough to drive you mad.

He leaned in close, voice pouring into your ear.

“All those dirty little posts?” he whispered. “All those disgusting tweets? You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”

You whimpered.

“You’re a fucking perv.”

He grabbed your phone again, still open on the mattress, still glowing.

“Let’s see what else my number-one fan’s been up to…”

He read aloud, slow and mocking.

“‘God, his hands are so pretty I just wish he could shove them deep inside and not stop no matter how many times I tell him to.’”

He looked at you, smirking. “My hands, baby? Out of everything? That’s what gets you off?”

You couldn’t speak. You were too far gone. Too humiliated.

“You’re such a pervert for me.”

His fingers moved faster. Wet. Unforgiving. Fucking into you with no rhythm, no care—just force and pleasure. Until your legs started shaking and your walls clenched tight and you felt yourself teetering again.

And then—

He stopped.

Pulled out.

You sobbed. A broken, desperate sound.

He clicked his tongue. “Oh, princess. You really thought I’d let you cum after all that gross things you wrote about me?”

You shook your head, begged silently, grinding against nothing.

“You don’t deserve shit from me.”

He unzipped his pants again, pulled his cock out, slapped it against your clit once—twice—just to watch your hips jerk. Your back arched. You needed him. Needed it.

“Mmm, baby,” he said, voice honey-thick and mocking. “Look at it. The cock you’ve been tweeting about. The one you came to.”

Then he flipped you onto your stomach, shoved your face into the mattress, and fucked into you in one vicious, brutal thrust.

You screamed.

“You don’t even deserve to be fucked like this,” he snarled, hips already slamming into yours. “But I’m gonna do it anyway.”

You cried out again. Again. Every thrust shoved you further into the bed, stretched you wider, fucked you raw. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“God, listen to you,” he groaned. “You’re dripping down my cock, baby. Fucking soaked. All for me.”

The sheets smelled like him. Like cologne, sweat, and sex. It was overwhelming. It was perfect.

You couldn’t stop shaking.

Your orgasm was building again.

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already,” he said, voice low. “We barely fucking started.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even form a sound. You didn’t even hear him anymore—his constant taunts and teasing were a blur. All you could feel was his cock pounding into you and your orgasm building like a scream in your throat. All that registered now was the relentless rhythm of his cock slamming into you, slick and punishing, hitting that spot again and again with no mercy, no slowing, no breath between thrusts. Your body wasn't keeping up, and your brain had left hours ago.

And then it hit.

The orgasm came without warning—sudden, blinding, violent. Muscles clamped tight around his cock, walls spasming uncontrollably, thighs shaking as the wave surged through your core and stole every breath. Stars bloom into your vision, and you feel yourself getting dizzy. A scream tore from your throat, raw and broken, muffled into the sheets as your entire body trembled and shook. The convulsions came hard, hips jolting, knees knocking into his without rhythm, and still—he didn’t stop.

He grunted. Slowed just enough to mock you.

“God,” he hissed, breathless, looking down at the mess you’d become. “You’re so fucking gross. You really came that fast?”

Just grabbed your aching body and flipped you over like a ragdoll, letting you bounce onto your back, eyes glassy, lips trembling.

“Now it’s my turn.”

And you didn’t get to breathe. Not even once.

He shoved into you in a single, brutal thrust, hips slamming against yours with obscene wet heat. You squealed—sharp and involuntary, a high-pitched gasp that twisted into a choked sob. Your legs instinctively locked around him, thighs clenching at his waist, your arms snapping up around his neck as your whole body reacted with desperate need. He filled you, absolutely filled you, cock stretching your sore pussy wide open again with zero warning, and it was too much.

“Fuck—” he groaned, pressing his chest flush to yours, his entire weight pinning you down into the bed. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t even lift your head. His cock ground inside you, thick and brutal and unrelenting, while he buried his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of your sweat.

“You’re so fucking small under me,” he muttered, voice hoarse with lust, dragging his hips slow now, long, deliberate thrusts that made your back arch off the mattress. His cock slid in deep, too deep, forcing your body to take every inch like it had no choice.

You could barely breathe. He was suffocating you, swallowing your air, pinning your wrists back down with his hands wrapped tight around them like shackles. His broad shoulders caged you in like he wanted to drown you in him. His cock bullied your pussy with every thrust, splitting you open, dragging slick out of you with wet, squelching sounds that made your ears burn.

And you loved it.

You loved being held down. Loved the crushing weight of him on your body, the way his arms flexed over yours, how every part of you was forced to mold to him.

He started fucking harder. Hips snapping forward, slamming into you without rhythm, without restraint—just force. You cried out with each impact, your arms tightening around his neck, trying to anchor yourself to anything as he railed you into the mattress.

Then his mouth found your ear.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice soft and dangerous, like a knife against skin. “You were running a fan account the whole time.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, sweat dripping from his temple onto your flushed cheeks, hips slamming forward as he spoke. Each word landed with a violent thrust.

“All those pathetic little things you posted about me—every night—while I was already fucking you like this in my bed.”

You gasped, trying to stammer something, anything, but the air was gone, and so were your thoughts. His fingers gripped your jaw tightly, forcing your gaze back to his. His eyes were wild.

Possessive.

He than whispered in your ear “Don’t you think that’s a little fucking selfish?”

“I—I'm sorry—I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did," he cut you off, cock drilling into you harder, his voice thick with betrayal—and something darker. “You wanted both. You wanted to be my girlfriend and my #1 fan all at the same time. You wanted to write all that crazy shit about me and still look me in the eyes like nothing was wrong.”

Your body jolted as his cock slammed deeper, harder, shoving you up the bed until your head smacked into the headboard, breath ripped from your lungs.

“You’re mine,” he exclaimed. “You’ve always been mine. And no one gets to know that my biggest fan is a gross, pervy little slut I call my girlfriend.”

And that did it. Again.

Your orgasm ripped through you, violent and unstoppable. Your legs shook around him, your voice cracked in a hoarse, broken scream that you buried in his shoulder, teeth scraping skin. You clung to him like a lifeline as he fucked you through it—faster now, chasing his own release with those brutal, punishing thrusts that sent the bedframe banging against the wall.

Then you felt it.

The heat. The flood. His cock twitched hard inside you, buried to the hilt, as thick, his warm cum spilling deep into your cunt. He groaned into your mouth, kissing you like he wanted to drown in you, hips still twitching, grinding in lazy aftershocks as your body milked him for every drop.

You were full. Overstuffed. Sore, soaked, still trembling. His cum leaked out of you in hot, messy spurts, mixing with your slick on the sheets. You could feel the mess under you, the wet sound your bodies made every time he shifted slightly, still inside you, cock still hard.

He didn’t move. Just collapsed on top of you, chest heaving against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist like he didn’t care if you suffocated under him.

He stayed there.

You stayed under.

His cock twitched inside your pulsing cunt. Your heartbeat pounded against his ribs. You were nothing but a mess under him, and he loved it.

After a long silence, he reached over, his arm dragging lazily across the mattress, and grabbed your phone from where it had fallen off the bed earlier. He unlocked it without asking.

Scrolled.

Paused.

“I thought about it,” he said suddenly, voice low, husky. “But I don’t want you to delete your account.”

You blinked. Tried to process through the fog.

“…W-wait. What?”

“I said,” he repeated, eyes flicking to yours with that same glint of cruel amusement, “you should keep it.”

Your stomach dropped through the bed. You stared, eyes wide and raw. “No. No, wait—”

He leaned in close, mouth brushing yours with a smirk.

“Don’t get all shy now, baby,” he said with a low chuckle, eyes glinting. “Not after you posted that 43 tweet thread about how you’d let me facefuck you while I played League.”

You wanted to vanish, to die, to claw your way under the bed and disappear forever.

But he just kissed you again. Slow this time. Warm. Sickeningly sweet. Sinister.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your lips. “Don’t worry.”

He pulled back and winked.

“Post whatever you want. Just know I’ll be watching…”

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lovelyannoyingcher · 1 month ago

Text

Babydoll | Lee Hyunjae

SUMMARY: your sugar daddy only wanted a simple request: record a series of sex tapes for him on a weekly basis. but when he finally made the move to meet you in person, it was there and then that you finally realised what he was truly capable of when he was off the screen.

PAIRING: sugar daddy!Hyunjae x f!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: he's literally your sugar daddy 😃, sex tapes, dirty talk, cum play, hickeys, breast play, sex toys (ribbons are used), Hyunjae makes reader dresses up as a doll, praise kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, p in v sex, bondage, doggy style, rough sex, missionary, petnames (babygirl, princess, babydoll), reader loses her virginity

WORD COUNT: 2,834

A/N: i am alive yes 😃 dedicating this fic to the miraes @daisyvisions @jinkoh @kyaroscuro 😚

Your hands began to tremble as you dragged the video that you had just recorded into the dropbox on the website, as you mentally battled yourself to click send.

It shouldn’t have been too hard for you, especially when you have been doing this almost every day for the past couple of months, especially when the sender was your very own sugar daddy who had been sending you more than enough money to survive on a daily basis.

You met Hyunjae online, and it took a while for you to accept that he’s not someone you would consider a stranger, let alone report to the authorities. Well, at least when you finally convinced him to actually send you pictures in real time to prove that he’s not lying about his true identity.

Getting a random message from a stranger online seemed scary, but you definitely couldn’t dismiss the fact that he was willing to pay you ten times more than your part-time job at your local coffee shop downtown. You were struggling to pay for your university fees as you finally reached your last semester, and you were this close to taking on another job to pull through if you hadn’t met Hyunjae.

What was interesting, or rather strange, was that he wanted you to record videos of yourself and send them to him weekly.

Erotic videos of yourself, to be exact.

That idea freaked you out because, for one, you had never lost your virginity, nor were you knowledgeable in conducting any of these sexual acts at all. Second, where and who were you going to go out to be able to find and convince them that you were practically planning to film an actual sex tape with? And of course, you weren’t particularly fond of posting your nude body out there on the internet for everyone to see.

But before you could even start rejecting the male’s offer as you blabbed out all the potential things that could go wrong, he reassured you that the videos are just meant for him, and you don’t have to film them with anyone else. All you had to do was set up a camera in front of you, pleasure yourself and send the clip to him every weekend, and he would then transfer the agreed amount of money to your bank account.

You weren’t too sure of the idea and knew from the back of your head that this all felt so wrong, but the temptation of the large sum of money he was willing to pay was too hard to resist, so you told him that you would try it out first to see.

And he respected your decision, and reassured you that you can always back out later if this isn’t something up your alley.

The very first time you did it, it felt awkward to say the least. Even before mustering up the courage to record yourself, you had actually gone online and done a little bit of research on what was considered doable for your first-ever sex tape for Hyunjae.

There were definitely many ones that were a little too intense for your liking, especially on your first try, so you decided to choose the most tame amongst them before you began playing out the whole scenario in your head for a couple of days.

The moment you finally recorded yourself doing the act, it felt strange yet so good. You definitely discovered many things about yourself that you didn’t know even existed, especially in certain spots where you felt a lot more sensitive than others.

It took less than a minute for Hyunjae to reply to your message when you first sent your video to him. Instantly, a large sum of money was transferred into your bank account. Feeling satisfied with your little accomplishment, you decided to try it out a couple of times to get the feel of it.

Eventually, a month had passed, and you gradually increased the number of times you sent videos to him. What used to be a weekly habit was reduced to sending one every 3 days, and eventually every day from the start of this month.

Hyunjae made sure that he had an actual conversation with you as well—giving you feedback on how you could do this particular action better or even suggesting new ideas that you could potentially try out the next time. But what really intrigued you the most was his praises—and god, how much those words sounded so sweet to your ears.

Over time, both of you began talking a lot more than just about sex, and eventually got to know more about one another as well. Hyunjae would send you random photos of his daily life through text, and you did the same with yours. Eventually, you’ve come to realise that he’s actually a pretty goofy guy who loves random cute plushies that you would come across whenever you’re out with your friends.

There are times when he would whine and actually send you messages that definitely did not seem to have come from a grown adult like him, where he would send you multiple crying emojis and begging you to buy it for him instead.

This childish side of him was lovable, and you giggled whenever he acted in such a way, but it also turned you on when he would suddenly switch to being this cold, yet dominating side whenever you would send your little gifts to him.

As you came back from reality and finally mustered up the courage to hit send, it took him less than 10 seconds to send you back a reply. But this time, it was something that was a lot different from usual, and your eyes widen the moment you read through his messages a couple of times, just to make sure you weren’t hallucinating.

🐻: shall we meet up in person real soon?

You immediately started panicking. Being his little sugar baby was one thing, but meeting him in person? God, how your fingers started trembling as you struggled to come up with a proper reply.

So many questions ran through your head: what exactly will he look like in person, to if he was genuinely as nice as he was online. Part of you wanted to meet him, yet another part of you was scared and reluctant, because if there was one thing your parents had taught you well, it wasn’t always safe out there.

But before you could even think of a response, Hyunjae immediately sent you the date and location and a rather unusual request.

🐻: i would love to see you dress up in pink with ribbons tied neatly through your hair.

🐻: see you then :)

As you read through that last message a couple of times, you finally threw your phone towards your desk before plunging yourself down onto your bed—burying your face and screaming into your pillow.

Oh god, what will I do now?

The dreaded date has arrived as you stood in front of the designated hotel sent by Hyunjae a week ago. You already knew that some passersby were giving you the looks, and you weren’t too fond of that idea. Ducking your head down the whole time as you tap your feet on the ground, you constantly prayed in your head, hoping that Hyunjae wasn’t just all talk and he really was on his way to you.

Just as 20 minutes passed, you suddenly heard loud footsteps approaching towards your right, and you looked up to see the very same man you had been waiting for. As your intuition was right, he was definitely a lot more attractive in person: his dark brown hair parted towards the side as he wore a black leather jacket paired with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

When he finally stopped right in front of you while catching his breath, he quickly shoved the flowers straight towards your face, bowing down a couple of times while he was at it to apologise profusely towards you.

“I-I’m so so sorry- the train got delayed and I had to go pick up the order I made for these flowers and-”

“Oh my god! Don’t be, I just got here not too long ago as well,” you reassured the male, but he was able to wipe off that little lie you had just made towards him.

“My dear, Y/N. You don’t have to lie to me, and I should be the one who’s all embarrassed for making a lady wait,” he grunts before running his hand through his hair. And god, did that simple action make him look hot as hell.

As he finally composed himself, he reached out his arm towards you, signalling for you to tag along as you both finally entered the booked hotel room. “Sorry for making you wait, my princess. Shall we finally go and have some fun?”

It was then you finally realised why on earth Hyunjae wanted you to dress up the way you did for tonight.

As you examined the room, you could see that Hyunjae had picked a themed room for both of your visits for the night. It was a dollhouse room: covered with dusty pink wallpaper with a few toys that would satisfy the occupants of this room.

You already knew that you both were going to go down with some kinky shit the moment he had you dress up in pink, but definitely not like this.

Hyunjae made sure to get you all comfortable before you could even think about sex: prepping you a hot cup of tea that was provided and letting you sit comfortably on the bed. As time quickly flew by and you two were comfortable enough, he slowly approached you before taking a seat right next to you. Gently, he snakes his hands onto your neck before pulling you in for a kiss.

The kiss was soft and sensual at the beginning: pleasuring you with soft yet hungry kisses and giving you time to adjust to his pace. His lips tasted like strawberries, and you knew that he probably went along with the pink theme that he had in his mind. As he had expected, you did not reject his touch and let yourself loose as you let him take full control of everything.

It all felt like a haze, and you were so mesmerised by his beauty and demeanour that you couldn’t pull yourself away from his grasp.

Slowly, he moves his hands down to give your breasts a gentle massage, before going down underneath your dress to rub your already wet underwear. Hyunjae smirked in between your kisses, and he quickened his pace as your pants finally turned into soft moans.

“I love how you’re so sensitive, Y/N,” he chimed, taking a few breaks between kisses to stare down at your now red, burning hot face as tears formed in your eyes.

Just before you could even climax, Hyunjae abruptly stops as he stands up to pull one of your pink ribbons away from your hair to tie both of your hands behind your back. You were flabbergasted by that sudden action, but he was too distracted to even hear you ask what was even going on in his head. Followed by that, he pulls away another ribbon from your hair and positions it in between your thighs—hurriedly yanking down your wet underwear and tossing them aside.

He then places the ribbon right underneath your wet, dripping clit and commands you to sit before he started pulling the ribbon back and forth. The friction from the fabric was now rubbing your clit, and god, did that stimulated you good.

You looked at him with pleading eyes, desperately wanting to cum at this point, and you knew from the look of his face he was trying his best to drag this out as long as possible—wanting to make you cry out to him more than you were right now.

“H-Hyunjae…p-please…” You mumbled, trying to get his attention and wanting him to cut the act and get straight to the point.

“Hmm? What’s that, princess? I won’t know unless you tell me what you want.”

“I-I want- Hngh-”

“Yes, tell me, babygirl. I’ll give you anything you want.”

“F-Faster…please…” You begged as your teardrop finally drips down from the corners of your eyes.

Hyunjae smiles, and it does not belong to the goofy guy who would beg you throughout your texts for you to buy him the latest jellycat doll that was available on the market.

No. This was your sugar daddy: the one who counted on you to make sex tapes for him once every couple of days for his own gratification.

“Now that’s my good girl,” he winks as he quickens his pace, rubbing it faster and harder, which makes you scream in agony. “I just love messing with my little princess.”

During the heat of the moment, he reconnects his lips with your bare skin—leaving a trail of kisses from your neck all the way down to your collarbone before he started sucking on them to make sure that he was going to leave a bright, red mark where it would be extremely visible.

You, on the other hand, were suffering from the consequences of his actions. Tears continued pouring out as you finally felt a little knot form within your stomach, and it only took Hyunjae a few more attempts before the hot, warm liquid started flowing from your thighs down onto the bed. He simply smacked his lips before taking that very same wet ribbon and placing it right onto your lips, making you taste the aftermath of your own hard work.

“Tell me, how does it taste? Do you like it?”

“V-Very m-much…” You mumbled while biting the ribbon before he finally pulled it away from your lips. Though he wasn’t done, and this time he gently pushes you down before he positions himself behind you, and that’s when your eyes widen in fear.

An unzipping noise was heard, and you knew exactly what it was without having the need to turn around to look. And frankly, you couldn’t have done that since your hands were still tied behind you, and you could only mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

Just as you had expected, his tip has just lightly brushed through your dripping wet clit before your entire body squirmed for a second. Hyunjae had to lean forward and whisper into your ear to reassure you that he would be gentle and take good care of you. With one hand gently massaging his tip at your entrance, his other one came down to caress your cheeks as he reconnected his lips with yours.

Turns out he did kept his promise, and he waited until your body was no longer stiff with fear before he slowly pushed his member into you—causing you to yelp much louder than you did before.

“Shh…everything is okay, babygirl. Just trust me,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks softly before pulling himself back up and resting both of his hands on your waist. It didn’t take long for him to slowly pick up his pace, and he moved one of his hands onto your hands as he began pulling them backwards—making your body move up slightly and giving him a lot more room and pressure to thrust within you.

“God- You’re - So- Tight- Y/N-” Hyunjae grunts as he applies a tad bit more pressure each second. It was then you felt like your walls were legitimately breaking apart, and god knows how much longer you can take his cock anymore.

Grunts and moans filled the entire room, and the bed shook vigorously, to the point you were starting to worry if it would even collapse with the amount of pressure he was exerting. The once soft and demure Hyunjae was gone, and he was now a beast.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-” Hyunjae grits his teeth before he finally filled you up completely—all of the extra liquids oozing out from your clit and they continued dripping down your thighs to the bed. You were a complete mess from that whole ordeal, and you finally heaved a sigh of relief when you finally came down from your high.

But you wished that you had held onto that thought for now.

Without even pulling out his member, he abruptly turns you around and snakes himself over your hands so that they were now wrapped around his neck as he lowered himself down to the point that you could feel his breath on yours.

If you thought what just happened a minute ago was bad enough, you were in for another ride as you’re practically locked under Hyunjae’s grasp. The male simply licks his lips before responding with a sly smirk on his face.

“My babydoll is such a good girl, and I believe she deserves another round.”

A/N: suddenly i've forgotten how to write smut so pls bear with me 😭

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @mamuljji @synthwxve @j4edo @daisyvisions @h0mebody-heaven (join my permanent taglist here!)

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lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Text

WHEN YOU'RE SICK VS WHEN HE'S SICK ⋆˚✿˖°

۶ৎ PAIRING : boynextdoor x gn!reader ۶ৎ GENRE(S) : established relationship, a whole load of FLUFF!!! ۶ৎ WARNINGS(S) : mentions of fever, colds, and general illness (nothing severe), slight medical caretaking (blankets, soup, cold compress, etc.), lots of secondhand embarrassment from Jaehyun and Woonhak being dramatic (not actually hehe), minor mentions of emotional clinginess and crying (but in a soft/funny way) ۶ৎ WORD COUNT : 0.3k - 0.5k words

۶ৎ A/N : My first ever headcanon fic! 💌 This one’s a little self-indulgent since I’m currently sick rn .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. so I wrote about how BOYNEXTDOOR would take care of you (or how they'd act if they were the sick ones themselves). Also… I just realized every fic I’ve written so far has been angst… 😳 So please accept this soft, chaotic fluff as a humble apology for emotionally wrecking you all. Consider it a tissue and a warm soup for your soul 🥲💗

SUNGHO ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐

ᰔ when you're sick :

۶ৎ balances between giving you space and checking in just enough to make sure you're comfortable

۶ৎ makes a quick trip to the store and returns with medicine, your favorite drinks, and a small surprise to cheer you up

۶ৎ helps change your bedsheets because "fresh sheets always feel better when you're under the weather"

۶ৎ wears a mask even if you’re the sick one :

"Sungho, I’m the contagious one."

"Yeah, but what if I breathe in your sick and it bounces back at you?? Think, babe.”

۶ৎ checks your temperature every five minutes because he's convinced your fever is one decimal away from a medical emergency :

“Sungho you checked my temperature five minutes ago…”

“Yeah, and what if it went up since then? What if you're like... melting and I missed it?”

۶ৎ lays you gently in bed like a precious doll. Adjusts the blanket 12 times. Pats it smooth. Kisses your forehead, checks for fever, then kisses it again just in case :

“You’re acting like I’m dying.”

“I almost lost you to a paper cut once. Let me panic in peace.”

۶ৎ offers to make you simple but nutritious meals : "You need to keep your strength up."

۶ৎ keeps making you tea, but forgets he already made one, so by 2pm you have five mugs on your nightstand and he’s still going. “Tea is healing, babe. You're basically 80% tea now.”

۶ৎ reads out funny messages from the other members to make you smile

۶ৎ stays up to check on your breathing :

“Okay… still breathing. Good. You're doing amazing, sweetie. I love you.”

ᰔ when he's sick :

۶ৎ refuses to admit he’s sick for the longest time. He’s wiping down counters, vacuuming the floor with a tissue stuck to one nostril like :

“I’m not sick, I just— achoo—need to open a window or something.”

۶ৎ tries to go to the gym anyway. You physically have to block the door :

"You’re sweating and not in a gains way, Sungho."

"But my back day—"

"Will be waiting when you’re not running a fever."

۶ৎ refuses to be babied… until you do

۶ৎ at first he’s all “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

۶ৎ but the moment you put a cool cloth on his forehead or brush his hair back, his whole body melts and he just whispers, “...Do that again.”

۶ৎ he usually holds you at night, but when he’s sick, he turns into the clingiest little spoon

۶ৎ Lays on your chest with a pitiful voice :

“I think I’m dying.”

“You have a cold.”

“A dramatic one.”

۶ৎ still tries to meal prep through the sickness

۶ৎ you catch him in the kitchen trying to chop broccoli with a hoodie over his head, sniffing every five seconds :

“Sungho. Please go lie down.”

“But we need protein—”

“I will feed you boiled eggs. Just. Go.”

۶ৎ will grumble about “not being weak,” but the second you tuck the blanket under his chin or spoon-feed him porridge, he’s looking at you with those lovey dovey eyes :

“I could get used to this.”

“You better not.”

۶ৎ pouts when you leave the room for 2 seconds :

“I’m just getting you more tea.”

“I thought you abandoned me. (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) ”

RIWOO ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐

ᰔ when you're sick :

۶ৎ shows up with no announcement, just slips into your home with comfort food and quiet support

۶ৎ doesn’t say much, but somehow he’s cooked your comfort meal exactly how you like it — “Not too spicy. I remember.”

۶ৎ leaves sticky notes all around your space :

"Take this one after lunch." (on your meds)

"Drink water or I will be silently disappointed." (on your water bottle)

"Eat this. I picked out the weird onions." (on your porridge)

۶ৎ you don’t even see him move—he’s just like a ghost nurse who appears, helps, and vanishes

۶ৎ sits at the foot of the bed, just watching something on his phone with the volume low so he doesn’t disturb you

۶ৎ occasionally tosses you a fruit snack like a koala being fed at a zoo

۶ৎ gives your ankle a gentle squeeze like: I’m here, rest easy.

۶ৎ puts on a movie or show he knows you'll enjoy, sitting close enough that you can lean on him if you want

۶ৎ remembers the little details about how you like your tea or what side you prefer to sleep on

۶ৎ doesn’t make a fuss about the tissues or mess. He just calmly puts on gloves, clears everything up, and hums quietly to himself

۶ৎ you try to thank him. He shrugs. “I like taking care of you.” …

۶ৎ now your fever’s worse, but for romantic reasons

ᰔ when he's sick :

۶ৎ becomes extra quiet, communicating mostly through sleepy nods and head shakes

۶ৎ he’s in full cozy mode — oversized hoodie, two pairs of socks, blanket wrapped like a cocoon. He just blinks slowly from the corner of the couch while you fuss over him

۶ৎ wants you nearby but doesn't want to be a burden : "You don't have to stay..."

۶ৎ this cutie always wants food but has no energy 🥹 :

“I want kimchi jjigae… but the chopsticks are too far.”

“They’re literally next to you.”

“...Then fate is against me.”

۶ৎ sometimes, he'll just stare longingly at the fridge and sigh

“Do you want juice?”

“...Wouldn’t mind some. If the universe provides.” (The “universe” is you. Obviously.)

۶ৎ is somehow still able to make dad jokes :

“I made you soup.”

“Soup-erb. You’re soup-erb. You’re… souper.”

“Stop.”

“Can’t. I’m on a broth roll.”

۶ৎ gets embarrassed about how messy his hair looks or how raspy his voice becomes

۶ৎ doesn’t want to talk much, but wants you nearby. Will hold your pinky with his under the blanket

۶ৎ if you leave the room too long, he texts you “🧃? 🥺” or a sad selfie with half his face under a hoodie

۶ৎ the rare, genuine smile he gives when you bring him something he needs without asking speaks volumes 💕

JAEHYUN ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐

ᰔ when you're sick :

۶ৎ you sneeze once and Jaehyun is already in your room with a thermometer, two drinks (water and vitamin juice), tissues, a plushie, and five different worries :

“Baby?? My love?? My precious one?? Are you okay?? Are you dying?? Should we call the hospital?? Should I fight your immune system??”

۶ৎ cannot stop talking… "So I was thinking about what might make you feel better and I remembered this one time when I was sick and my mom did this thing with ginger and honey and…”

۶ৎ walks in with a bowl of soup like it’s the Olympic torch :

“I have brought you a gift. A miracle. A healing potion passed down by my ancestors—”

“It’s literally instant porridge.”

“Don’t ruin the lore.”

۶ৎ constantly flits around your space, adjusting blinds, fluffing pillows, reorganizing medicine

۶ৎ “I wanna hug you but I don’t wanna get sick.” So he lies at the edge of the bed, dramatically stretching one arm over to hold your hand. Ten minutes later he’s asleep on top of you anyway

۶ৎ sends hourly encouraging text messages with an excessive amount of emojis

۶ৎ dramatically reads stories to distract you, doing all the character voices

۶ৎ while you nap, he tapes a little note to your vitamin bottle that says “eat these or I cry ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)💢”

۶ৎ his genuine concern shows in how he keeps touching your forehead, shoulder, hand - just making sure you're okay

ᰔ when he's sick :

۶ৎ somehow becomes EVEN MORE talkative, but now with a raspy voice :

"I'm fine! I'm fine! It's just a little cold! Did I tell you about the dream I had last night?"

۶ৎ gets emotional about literally everything : "This tissue is so soft... why am I crying?”

۶ৎ SO clingy. Will not let you leave the room. Follows you with his eyes like a sad puppy :

“Where are you going? You’re leaving me?”

“To get your medicine.”

“…Take me with you 🥺”

۶ৎ literally wraps himself around your arm like a koala :

“Can you feed me?”

“You can feed yourself.”

“Yeah but it tastes better when you do it 😔”

۶ৎ coughs once and acts like he's on death's doorstep :

“This is it. This is how it ends.”

“Jaehyun, you’re being so dramatic—”

“Tell Taesan to take my solo lines. Tell Riwoo he was my favorite. Tell Woonhak I've loved him since the very day I birthed him.”

۶ৎ basically the most dramatic out of the six :

“Promise me something.”

“…What?”

“If I don’t make it, delete all my selfies. But leave the ones from Jeju. I looked good in those.”

TAESAN ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐

ִᰔ when you're sick :

۶ৎ also doesn’t say much, but somehow everything’s already done

۶ৎ your meds? On the nightstand. Water? Cold and fresh. Room? Quiet and dim. You didn’t even hear him come in

۶ৎ tucks you in like it's instinct. Pulls the blanket over your shoulders. Adjusts the pillow. Brushes a hand over your forehead like he’s checking if you’re too warm, too cold, or just need a little affection. Doesn’t say anything about it

۶ৎ plays soft alt rock through his speaker, says, “This helped my little sister. Might help you too.”

۶ৎ if you try to get up and do anything, he just goes, “Sit.” And you…sit

۶ৎ folds your laundry, disinfects your phone, and empties the trash without being asked. “I’ve done this before. You're not allowed to move unless it’s to hug me.”

۶ৎ deadpan threatens you whenever he tries feeding you :

“Eat or I'm sending Woonhak your sick selfies.”

“That's blackmail!”

“And it works.”

۶ৎ adjusts your blanket while you’re sleeping. You pretend you don’t notice. He pretends he didn’t do it. You both know he did

۶ৎ never says he's worried, but you can tell from the small acts of services he does and how he glances at you every 5 seconds like : please feel better already

ᰔ when he's sick :

۶ৎ he doesn't like feeling weak, so he tries to hide it

۶ৎ you only found out he's sick because he sneezed twice during a voice call and his voice cracked :

“Are you sick?”

“...no.”

“You sound like a dying cat.”

“...cool.”

۶ৎ eventually gives in to your care… but barely speaks

۶ৎ will wrap himself in layers and still be cold

۶ৎ he’s in a hoodie, scarf, and blanket burrito — arms crossed, nose red, refusing to admit he’s miserable :

“Why are you sulking?”

“I'm not. I just... can’t breathe.”

۶ৎ if you sit by his bed and play with his hair or read next to him, he instantly knocks out. Doesn’t say anything, but shifts closer in his sleep

۶ৎ grumbles softly when you get up like: no, warmth, come back.

۶ৎ giant mountain? More like giant baby

۶ৎ secretly appreciates everything you do for him 🥹

۶ৎ he won’t say “thank you” outright. But when he’s feeling a bit better, he pulls you in for a quiet hug and murmurs, “You take care of me too well. It’s unfair.”

LEEHAN ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐

ִᰔ when you're sick :

۶ৎ arrives with a small aquarium: "Studies show watching fish reduces stress and helps healing!”

۶ৎ makes you hydration drinks with way too much love :

“What’s this?”

“It’s vitamin water… but I added lemon slices shaped like hearts and stirred it counter-clockwise for positive energy.”

“…Thank you?”

۶ৎ makes oddly specific but helpful remedies: "This is seaweed soup with exactly seven types of seaweed.”

۶ৎ sits beside your bed and whispers fish trivia to you :

“Did you know clownfish can change gender if the dominant female dies?”

“…Leehan.”

“It’s important to keep your brain stimulated while you’re resting!”

(But lowkey, his voice is so soothing you fall asleep halfway through a fact about seahorses.)

۶ৎ gives you his favourite plushie to cuddle with “for morale” he says :

۶ৎ it’s shaped like a blue tang fish and smells faintly like lavender

“He’s been through a lot. He knows how to handle tough days.”

“What’s his name?”

“Doctor Tang.”

“…Okay.”

۶ৎ tucks you into bed with such care like he’s folding sacred origami. He literally whispers, “There. Safe and warm. Like a burrito. My burrito.” before kissing your forehead 💕

ᰔ when he's sick :

۶ৎ MY SHAYLAAAAA 😭😭😭

۶ৎ is so apologetic when he's sick :

“Sorry… my body is failing me… I didn’t mean to…”

“My love, it’s literally just a cold—”

“I let my white blood cells down.”

۶ৎ has a collection of soft blankets and aquatic plushies that only emerge when he's unwell

۶ৎ adores when you play with his hair or rub his back to help him relax

۶ৎ wants you to play marine documentaries when he sleeps : “No horror movies. Just gentle turtles… maybe a kelp forest.”

۶ৎ falls asleep halfway through David Attenborough’s narration and smiles in his sleep when the narrator says “nudibranch”

۶ৎ once he's better, he acts like he had a spiritual journey :

“I dreamed I was a guppy floating through space.”

“…Okay.”

“And you were there. Feeding me vitamin jelly.”

“Hannie. Go brush your teeth.”

۶ৎ looks at you with such genuine gratitude for simple acts of care that it makes your heart melt

WOONHAK ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐

ᰔ when you're sick :

۶ৎ “YOU’RE WHAT? SICK?!”

۶ৎ he finds out and gasps like you told him you're moving to another country. Then runs around gathering everything like it’s a medical emergency :

“Do you need soup? Ice? Socks? Medicine? A hug? Two hugs??”

۶ৎ his naturally loud voice keeps dropping as he remembers to be quieter: "I brought SOUP! I mean... soup.”

۶ৎ brings an overflowing bag of snacks, drinks, and random items he thought might cheer you up

۶ৎ despite his playful nature, he shows remarkable maturity in how he cares for you

۶ৎ keeps trying to make you laugh: "A smile strengthens your immune system! I read that somewhere... or maybe I made it up?"

۶ৎ expresses his concern openly and warmly: "I was really worried about you, you know?”

۶ৎ puts on cartoons for you because "they heal the soul"

۶ৎ sits next to you under the blanket and gasps at every plot twist in Paw Patrol like it’s his first time watching :

“Did you SEE THAT? He SAVED THE BOAT—babe, are you watching?”

dozing off

“She’s sleeping peacefully… I’m sobbing.”

۶ৎ will not stop hugging you even though he’s told “no contact”

۶ৎ creates elaborate pillow fortresses around you "for protection against bad germs”

ᰔ when he's sick :

۶ৎ remember when I said Jaehyun is the most dramatic? He has some competition...

“Hey, how are you feeling—”

“I CAN’T SMELL. I MIGHT NEVER SMELL AGAIN.”

“It’s a stuffy nose—”

“I FORGOT WHAT CHOCOLATE SMELLS LIKE.”

۶ৎ lays on the bed like he’s in a music video about heartbreak. Blanket up to his nose. Arms flopped dramatically :

“Do you want tea?”

“I want… to feel alive again.”

۶ৎ slips into full baby mode because he just loves being babied by you but will never admit it :

“Will you brush my hair?”

“Can you sing to me while I nap?”

“Will you feed me tiny spoonfuls of soup and call me a strong boy?”

۶ৎ won’t eat unless you feed him

“No I can’t lift my arms… you have to do the airplane… no, wait, the rocket ship—okay I’m ready.”

opens mouth dramatically

۶ৎ whimpers if you try to leave the room :

“I’ll go make tea—”

“NoooOooOO don’t go… what if I need cuddles mid-sip…”

۶ৎ starts naming your care items

“This water bottle’s name is Aqua. She’s my emotional support friend now.”

“This tissue pack? He’s called Mr. Fluffy.”

۶ৎ gets genuinely sad when you try to throw them away

“You can’t just discard Fluffy like that... he caught my tears…”

۶ৎ the way he lights up when you bring him his favorite snack makes taking care of him rewarding

۶ৎ falls asleep holding your hand, looking younger and more vulnerable than usual🥹

@coriihanniee 💌

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

taglist: @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @8makes1atom @s0shroe @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @mydeepestsecrects @brownetry @pumpkg @heeheesang @jungwonbropls @prodkwh @reibelhearts

769 notes · View notes

lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Text

GUESS

🎧 now playing… tonight you are mine - the technicolors

pairing: non-idol!jiseok x virgin!fem!reader

genre: smut ( 18+ ) ── 2.6k words

c.w ! virginity loss, virgin kink, few descriptions of pain, not vanilla

✎… friends to???, sub!reader, protected sex, oral sex (f!rec), spit kink, pet names, praise mixed with condescension, hint of exhibitionism, filming (there’s no vocal consent given but reader likes it), dacryphilia, begging, narcissistic!gaon

a.note ! half of this is based on one of my anons’ dream

( xdh masterlist )

You weren't planning on being here tonight.

But your best friend begged you all day so now you're here - at her soon-to-be-boyfriend’s party; clutching a plastic cup of cheap alcohol and watching the mess of tangled bodies that's on the improvised dance floor.

You managed to sneak out without anyone noticing and have few minutes to yourself before your friends start looking for you.

Until your wandering gaze is suddenly caught by Kwak Jiseok. He’s just in the middle of a story, but seeing you across the room makes the grin on his face grow, and as if though he spotted something in your eyes, he stops mid sentence.

You look away quickly, suddenly too aware of the feelings you’ve been keeping bottled up. Just pretend you did not see him… He’ll go back to his conversation.

Well, it’s too late… he’s already coming over.

“Hey!” His voice, warm and deep, calls out enough to overpower the blasting music. “Why are you standing here all alone? Trying to look mysterious?”

“No.” You mutter, fighting back the lingering nerves.

Of course, he grins at your response, speaking up with that playful tone of his that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So, you were just waiting for me to come talk to you.”

“Again,” you finally allow for your eyes to lock, “wrong answer.”

And you can’t deny it - seeing him look away because he can’t think of a response right away feels good.

“Tsk,” he steps closer, casually adjusting against the counter beside you, “it’s not easy to talk to you.”

“Maybe.” You shrug, chuckling before you can stop yourself.

“You know, quiet people like you always have the most naughty secrets.”

“Oh, really?” You sound more distracted than amused; it’s hard not to peek at him when he’s standing this close. He’s got on that black t-shirt you’ve seen him wear before, and the familiar trace of his musky cologne reaches you due to the lack of distance, tempting and arousing. “How do you know that exactly?”

“People love me, I guess.” He wiggles his brows at you, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “They always tell me everything.”

You let out a quiet sigh, it’s annoyingly true.

“See the girl in the red top over there?” He nods subtly in her direction, his voice lowers secretly. “The guy next to her is her boyfriend, they’ve been together for months, but she’s cheating on him with the guy Seungmin’s talking to right now.”

He pauses, turning to you with brows gathered in fake pity.

“Sucks, doesn’t it? I know your biggest secret too.”

“My… biggest secret?” Your voice dips without meaning to. The way he says it like it’s nothing, like he’s speaking seriously, makes the panick in your chest spread even quicker. “I don’t even know what my biggest secret is.” You force a laugh to play it off.

Your heart skips anyway, though. It’s not possible for him to… There’s no way…

“Come on,” Jiseok turns his body to keep his eye on you, “being a pure innocent girl isn’t something to be ashamed of. I like it, I think it’s hot.”

“Who—“

You leave the word hanging in the air.

He can’t know. Out of all people…

Instead of saying anything else, you grab Jiseok’s arm without thinking twice, dragging him to the nearest empty room.

The door shuts behind you with a heavy thud. Jiseok’s curious eyes quickly scan the setting before settling upon you, a little too amused - it’s your temper, and the ridiculous conversation he can’t help but laugh at.

Who would’ve thought that of all things, that stupid conversation would be what finally gets him alone with you?

“Who told you?” You snap, your tone rising freely with frustration. “You better keep your mouth shut, Jiseok! This isn’t your business.”

Jiseok lifts his hands in mock surrender. A faint smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Relax,” he drawls, infuriatingly calm, “no one told me anything. I was just guessing.”

Upon hearing this, your heart should be easening its thumping.

However, with Jiseok stepping closer, you fail to calm down the way you’d like to.

“The first time I saw you, I could tell. You’ve never done it, have you?”

Compared to the party buzzing down the hallway, here it’s too quiet; you can almost hear the butterflies bursting in your stomach at the way his smirk softens.

“You haven’t.”

“No, I haven’t.” You can’t help but snort lightly. He looks ridiculously pleased. “How did you know?”

You almost forget to breathe as you wait for him to respond. And you’re damn certain… he’s purposefully going to take longer to do so.

“Does it really matter?” Jiseok’s trademark grin stretches wide. His dark eyes glint with a bold spark, but his body moves nonchalantly. “I didn’t lie earlier, though… I really think it’s hot.”

“Would you…” the words slip quietly before you can catch them. “Would you like to do it…”

Jiseok blinks; his plump lips part in what looks like genuine wonderment.

“Do what?”

There’s a clear tilt in his smooth voice, but the longer you study his expression the harder it gets to tell if he’s stunned, or not that surprised by your suggestion.

“Take my virginity.” You wet your lips in anticipation after you blurt out your wish - more composed than you’d expect.

Jiseok takes a deep breath, shoving hands in the pockets of his pants, though his palms are getting warmer.

“You’re messing with me,” he narrows eyes, suspicious, “you’ve been waiting for a long time, and now you suddenly want me to take your virginity?”

Without hesitation, you cut the remaining distance between you and place hands on his shoulders. You can almost hear his breathing hitch from your touch.

His gaze immediately drops to your mouth.

“Please,” you whisper, staring weakly at his lips; feeling how the urge to taste them bubbles in your body. “I want you to be the one… but I guess if you don’t…”

“Shut up.”

And like that, Jiseok cuts you off. Stealing your next breath by crashing his mouth into yours.

Your fingers grasp on the fabric of his shirt; his kiss lands so powerfully that your knees already feel close to giving up on you. It feels too intoxicating as he takes the lead; the excitment flooding your veins is brand new.

“You want me to be the one,” he pulls back first but remaining as near as possible, “is that what you said?” The words come out with a hint of amusement.

You’ve always been fascinated with Jiseok’s voice - how low and husky it can get, and how despite that, it still manages to sound effortlessly inviting.

“Yeah,” you nod, already lightheaded simply from his tongue grazing your lips as he kisses you again; his quick hands are already stripping you from your pants in the process. “I want it, so bad.”

“Keep saying it.”

… he says, pushing you on the bed.

“Keep begging.”

… he says, falling to his knees and spreading your legs open.

Your pleads slip in the air one by one; each more compelling than the previous one, easily turning Jiseok more eager, testing the patience he’s never really had in the first place when it comes to things like this.

On the instant, he sighs at the sight of your pretty underwear. It’s already marked by an alluring wet spot. Jiseok bumps it with his finger, teasing the place where you’re leaking from… for him.

“How cute.” A seductive chuckle drips from his tongue before he drags it up your clothed pussy folds. “You’re already making a mess, baby.”

“Jiseok, please…” You tense as you feel his strong, flat tongue rubbing through the fabric some more.

“Sorry, doll,” he murmurs, slipping a finger under your panties to push them to the side; his voice doesn’t have even a hint of remorse though. “I just really wanted to taste your underwear.”

Your heart stumbles in anticipation once his warm breaths caress your exposed cunt. As his hands secure your thighs open, you can almost feel his intense gaze on your skin, how it studies your glistening parts with interest.

“Baby, I think you’re already ready to be stretched out.” He mutters, but still licks a stripe all the way to your clit. “Mmm, you’re soaked… and so fuckin’ sweet.”

He runs his flat tongue over your slick again. Next, he dips the tip into your small entrance, wanting to feel it before it widens, wanting to taste your virgin juices straight out of it.

Securing your thighs open, he shamelessly slurps and moans as a result - as though he’s having the sweetest treat in his life.

Unable to hide the effects this had on you, you whine quietly, simultaneously burning from desire mixed with light embarrassment.

“You’re so sweet and tight, baby, fuck—“ his eyes glance at you briefly while he pushes his index finger through your walls, “you have the perfect pussy for my cock, do you know that?”

After a moment of exploring, he stands on his feet to get rid of his pants. His eyes start gleaming with even stronger tension as he sees you not moving even a muscle. You wait for him silently only in your t-shirt, still at the same spot; even your legs, bend and separated, stay the way he adjusted them.

Luckily, he already knew there’d be condoms in the drawer of the nightstand. His friend is predictable like that.

“Come here,” Jiseok signals you to move at the centre of the bed, staring down as he rolls on the condom, “you’re gonna feel a little sting, but it’s just temporary. You’re gonna like it.”

“Yeah, I know.” You take a deep breath.

The following moment, you focus on fixating your attention on his changing expressions. But instead, you immediately notice the wild fire that erupts inside you.

You clearly feel how he invites a part of himself, and how that makes the fire loom everywhere.

“Fuck!” You wail, fidgeting against the pillows.

Jiseok quickly reaches to your squirming face, grabbing your jaw.

“Baby, what did you expect? You’re tight as fuck.” He suppresses a dry laughter before groaning. “Loosen up, I can’t move.” His palm slaps your cheek lightly to help you snap out of your daze.

“I’m trying,” you whimper, finding comfort in gripping the sheets. “I want to, but it’s hard.”

Biting on your trembling lip, you put desperate efforts into not thinking about how sharp the pain in your core is; into forcing your muscles to ease up so your walls can stop hesitating.

This is what you wanted. With him. You’re not about to ruin this.

“That’s better.” Jiseok grunts, sliding the rest of his length in one move; not bit by bit, but a single glide that shoots a shockwave through your core. “Holy shit!”

He drops his weight on top of you, squeezing his eyes shut at the incredible feeling that wraps around his cock; hot and tight. Instantly, the rush floods his system, and he effortlessly succumbs to the pleasure, chasing it with his hips.

“Fuck, feels amazing!” His drawn out moans crash with your cries which only stirr his arousal. “So full, isn’t it? You feel my cock? You feel it, baby? You love that?”

A shaky yes slips from your lips before your teeth sink into his shoulder.

You feel everything - from the heat of his chest radiating from his t-shirt, to the stretching of your pussy that brings you an indescribable bittersweet pain.

You really start to feel it - the creeping wave of delight prevailing over the ache, slowly but surely. As he said, it’s temporary.

You repeat the word inside your mushy brain, over and over again; your hands grasp onto his clothing as he speeds up, wrapping a fist around your hair.

“Tell me,” his grunts at your ear make you tingle with their exciting rasp, “tell me how much you love my cock… say it, or I pull out.”

“No—“ you whine, tightening your arms around him. “Please, don’t…”

But he still backs away, strengthening his back and snickering at your reaction to his teasing.

Still buried in your warmth, Jiseok reaches out to grab his phone from the back pocket of his pants tossed at the edge of the bed.

“Here, film it.”

Your eyes, hazed and sparkling with tears, glance at the device that’s suddenly in your hands.

Jiseok, too consumed by the view below, does not seem to acknowledge the silent tears that are threatening to spill, nor the shaking of your voice.

“A v-video?”

“Yeah, a picture isn’t enough,” Jiseok states quickly like he’s already thought of this before. “I want a video…” he punctuates his statement thrust after thrust, “of me… fucking you.”

His words end with a sharp curve of his lips; soon enough, as you hit record, the smile fades so he can spit on your clit before picking back up the quick rhythm.

Your vision does not remain long on the footage, though; you can’t look away from Jiseok’s tensing stomach, from his long veins as he holds your legs loosely over his arms; from the rapture painting his attractive face.

From the shift in his attitude, his aura, as he gets caught up in the rush.

The sight is distracting just as much as the unfamiliar thrill that’s swirling in your tummy, keeping you whimpering. Something feels like it’s tightening inside you with each fierce move of his hips.

“Sweet, virgin pussy… fuck—“ His brows crash together. “Such a good grip.”

He gazes down, perfectly aware that you’re mainly focusing the camera on him. It’s evident in the way his body moves pridefully, in the way his groans elevate with a pornographic tilt.

He’s used to being the centre of attention, and he loves it.

“Look at the way this little cunt drips for me.” Without a warning, he pulls out, wanting to show off the amount of moisture that has the condom glistening, the squelching noises you make when he smacks your slick with his hard cock. “Not so pure anymore, right, baby?”

For the first time since you started filming, he looks up at you, and his challenging gaze makes you fumble.

“Remind me how you begged for it.”

And in this moment, as his cock gets shoved back in, your brain goes empty. Numb. A jolt of pleasure buzzes through your body, causing you to twitch beneath him.

“Remind me how you begged me to pop your cherry, c’mon…”

Another hit. Deep and powerful, making your thighs shake.

The video that continues rolling suddenly goes blurry and out of focus, but still, perfectly capturing the chain of pleading that escapes your lips.

“Please, please…” Your free hand pulls on his shirt as another sign of desperation. “Please, I think I’m gonna cum…”

“Aw, the good girl wants to cum on my cock? My cock feels really nice, huh?” Jiseok coos in mocking endearment. “Now that I think about it,” his voice dips lower again from his ragged breathing, “good girls don’t film themselves losing their virginity at a random party, do they?”

He steals the phone from your hand, adjusting it over the arousing view - where you’re tightly wrapped around him.

Anyone can see how perfectly you’re taking him, but only he can feel the arousing pressure from your needy walls, throbbing around their very first cock.

“I should come up with a new way to call you.” He continues, staring obsessively at the phone screen. The thumb of his free hand finds your clit while his hips resume the rough slamming. “Hmm, what about fuck toy? Yeah, cum on my cock, and I’ll make this pussy my new little fuck toy.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

♡ taglist: @sweet-dreaming-girl @zelinkcrossing @bahng-chrizz

#xdinary heroes smut #xdh smut #kwak jiseok smut #gaon smut #gaon x reader #jiseok x reader #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh x reader

201 notes · View notes

lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Note

🥴😵‍💫

hii!!!

i was thinking abt smth…

mean dom!taehyun n strength kink…. 🫢🫢🫢

punch! / kang taehyun

anon request<3

summary: you’ve got a filthy little obsession with watching your boyfriend kang taehyun box—his muscles, his sweat, the way he dominates the ring. it turns you on so bad you can't keep quiet on the ride home, and taehyun? he makes sure you learn exactly what happens when you beg to be his personal punching bag—gloves on, mercy off.

pairing: boxer!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut, mean dom behavior, strength kink, possessive behavior, degradation/praise, dirty talk, semi-public tension, established relationship.

warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, strength kink, face-fucking, choking, light slapping, fingering, begging, orgasm denial, size kink, spit, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, very explicit language, use of boxing gloves, dirty talk, manhandling, semi-public, choking (light), possessiveness.

wc: 1,47k.

notes: dear anon, here’s your request 🩷 i hope you enjoy it as much as i do watching boxer!taehyun ruin me with just a glance 💋

you don’t even pretend anymore.

not about the way you feel when you see him in the ring.

not about how wet it makes you.

you never meant for it to become a kink. but somewhere between the first time taehyun invited you to watch his boxing practice and the way you caught yourself clenching your thighs every time he threw a punch, it became one.

kang taehyun in a pair of black boxing shorts, gloves tight around his fists, shirtless and glistening with sweat—he’s a walking fantasy, and you’re a mess every time.

you sit on the edge of the bench, trying to look casual, legs crossed, phone in hand. but you're not texting. you're watching. wide-eyed, jaw slack, thighs pressed tight together as he moves like a god across the ring.

maybe it was the way he moved—fluid, calculated, dangerous. maybe it was the way his muscles tensed beneath sweat-slick skin, veins running like rivers down his forearms, across his flexed biceps, his abdomen tightening with every hit.

every punch he throws makes his back muscles flex, tight and glistening. his core contracts with every dodge, every pivot of his hips. the gloves only make it worse—black leather, molded to his fists, the way they curve around his thick wrists and contrast with the veins crawling up his arms. you don’t know if it’s the power or the control or the cold expression on his face, but you want him. desperately. painfully.

and he knows it.

he knows you're there.

he knows exactly what watching him like this does to you.

and he fucking uses it.

he doesn’t smile once during the spar, but when he catches your gaze from across the ring, something shifts. his movements get sharper, heavier. he starts hitting harder. and every time he lands a punch, his eyes flick toward you.

the gloves. fuck, the gloves. thick, dominant, moving like extensions of his body. every hit he landed looked like sex. power and control wrapped in black leather. and you couldn’t stop staring.

by the time the session ended, you were soaked. your panties stuck to you, and your fingers ached with the urge to touch. but you waited. like a good girl. like his girl.

he came over, removing his mouthguard, breathing heavy, chest still heaving. “you okay, baby?” he asked casually, but the glint in his eyes was anything but casual.

“you were so hot,” you whispered, dazed. “i couldn’t stop watching you.”

he tilted his head. “yeah? you like watching me beat someone bloody?”

you swallowed. “i like watching you move.”

he smirked, then leaned in, close enough to make your stomach flip. “you know what i like?”

“you looked insane in there,” you say, voice soft but loaded. “like—fucking dangerous.”

he tosses a towel over his shoulder, not bothering to change out of his shorts. his gloves are still hanging from one hand, and when he steps closer, you can still smell the heat of the gym on his skin.

“yeah?” he murmurs, low. “you couldn’t stop staring.”

you look up at him, heart skipping. “couldn’t help it.”

he chuckled darkly and pulled his hoodie over his head, not bothering to put on a shirt. “get in the car. we’re going home.”

the ride back was excruciating. you couldn’t stop talking about how good he looked. how hot he was. how perfect his body moved. you didn’t even realize you were rambling until his hand landed on your thigh with force, gripping hard.

“shut up,” he snapped, eyes still on the road. “you’re acting like a fucking slut.”

you keep squirming in your seat, thighs pressed together as you keep whispering things.

you whimpered. that only made him squeeze harder. “what, you like that? you like being a slut for me?”

you nodded. of course you did.

“jesus,” he mutters, gripping the wheel tighter. “you want me to pull over and fuck you in this car?”

you bite your lip. “maybe.”

his laugh is low, dangerous. “keep talking like that and you won’t be able to walk by the time we get home.”

as soon as the door shut behind you at home, he turned and slammed you against it, pressing his body into yours so tightly you could barely breathe.

“strip,” he orders, voice rough.

you fumble with your clothes, dizzy with need.

taehyun doesn’t touch you—not yet. instead, he slides the gloves back onto his hands, securing the straps with his teeth.

you stare, breath caught.

“w-why are you putting them back on?”

he looks at you like you're stupid. “you said you like me like this,” he says darkly. “so be good and get on your knees.”

you drop fast, knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. your eyes are wide, pupils blown, mouth already parting.

he steps closer, lifting one gloved hand to brush your cheek—not gentle, just deliberate. calculated.

“you wanna be my little punching bag, huh?” he whispers, tilting your chin up with the padded curve of his glove. “so desperate to be used.”

you nod, throat tight. “yes, please…”

“open.”

you do.

he slides the glove against your lips, then deeper, pressing the fabric in until you gag. the scent of leather, salt, sweat fills your senses.

“you like that?” he hisses. “you like gagging on my fucking gloves?”

you moan around the pressure.

“pathetic,” he spits. “you get off watching me fight and then beg to be broken. you think you’re worth that, baby?”

you whimper, tears stinging your eyes. “i just want you. please.”

he pulls the glove back slowly, dragging spit with it.

“stand up.”

he slaps your thigh with the back of the glove. you flinch.

“against the wall. now.”

you obey, trembling.

he doesn’t take the gloves off. instead, he presses you flat against the wall, one hand pinning both your wrists above your head, the other dragging down between your thighs with slow menace.

“fucking soaked,” he growls. “just from watching me throw punches? dirty little thing.”

you nod, eyes fluttering shut.

“you wanna be fucked by a fighter? wanna feel what all that strength does when i’m not pulling my punches?”

“yes—taehyun, please—”

he grinds his hips into you, cock straining hard through his shorts.

“beg for it.”

you whine, twisting against him. “please fuck me, taehyun. i want it so bad—i need to feel you, need you to ruin me—please, please—”

“you asked for it.”

he shoves your leg up, splits you open against the wall, and thrusts inside in one brutal, punishing motion.

your scream gets swallowed by his glove covering your mouth.

he starts fucking you like he’s still in the ring—controlled chaos, brutal rhythm, one hand keeping your wrists pinned, the other wrapped around your throat now, squeezing just enough to blur the edges of your thoughts.

“this what you wanted, slut?” he snarls into your ear. “wanted me to fuck the air out of your lungs?”

“yes—fuck—yesyesyes—” your voice is breaking, body limp under his power.

he pulls out suddenly, and you sob, aching.

“turn around. hands on the wall.”

you do it instantly, legs shaking.

he enters you again from behind, snapping his hips so hard your face hits the wall. over and over. you hear yourself moaning, whimpering, begging, but none of it makes sense.

he wraps the glove around your throat again, yanks your body against his chest, and fucks you like he’s claiming something that belongs to him.

“mine,” he growls. “my little toy. my filthy girl who gets off watching me break people.”

“taehyun—taehyun i’m gonna—”

“no.”

he pulls out again, and you sob—your climax stolen, denied, held just out of reach.

“you don’t cum until i say so.”

he throws you down on the couch, rips the gloves off, and finally—finally—touches you bare-handed. his fingers are rough, strong, and his mouth is just as brutal.

he fingers you fast, merciless, whispering filth against your ear.

“you’re such a mess,” he says, voice low. “crying for it like you’ve never been fucked before.”

you arch, gasp, sob his name.

“soaked. fuck,” he muttered. “all that because i threw a few punches?”

you nodded, breathless. “you’re so strong…”

he slapped your pussy—lightly, then harder—and your entire body jolted.

“say it again.”

“you’re so strong—fuck—you’re perfect,” you cried.

“cum for me.”

and when he says it—you break.

your orgasm crashes through you like lightning, thighs shaking, cunt pulsing so hard around his fingers he curses under his breath.

he slides inside one last time and fucks you through it, grunting as he spills inside you.

you lie there after, a wreck.

his hand slides over your thigh.

“next time,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous in your ear, “i’ll fuck you at the gym. let everyone know who you belong to.”

and you knew you’d let him.

again. and again.

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lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Text

Change Me, Baby

Pairing: Vampire! Chan x Reader

Summary: Chan's been watching you for months. You've been watching him for weeks. When you finally catch him watching you sleep, you get what you've been yearning for, and maybe more.

Warning: Smut [ oral f. receiving, unprotected sex, creampie etc] 18+ ONLY. MDNI

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Big thanks to @unholywriters for this idea!! If you want to commission your own story (especially cause it's my birthday in 6 days, or donate) you can do that HERE. Anything and everything is always SO appreciated!

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97 @1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez @stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip @kaleigh-2002 @honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis @kpop-choco @chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang @nightmarenyxx @0325tiny @m1nn1everse @igot7bulletproofmonstas @imeverycliche @cathyxhaddy @hodgepodge-musings

“You're finally back.” You whisper, rolling over in bed. You had been pretending to sleep, waiting and hoping the man who had been following you for weeks would show up again. It had been almost a week since he had last sat in the chair across from your bed, watching you sleep. So every night, you lay awake but pretending to sleep to see if he would show up, but he never did. You had almost given up hope until you heard the faint sound of the window in your living room slowly slide up. You left it unlocked on purpose, knowing it was his favorite way to come into your apartment, even though you lived on the seventh floor.

You knew he wasn't human. You knew he was something else. His pale skin wasn't normal, th3 strength he used to climb your buildings fire escape wasn't normal. You had seen him one night, effortlessly climbing. His eyes weren't normal, they weren't human. There was nothing human about him, maybe except for the fact that he only wanted you.

“I'm back.” He says in a low whisper.

“Why were you gone so long?” You ask, sitting up in your bed, turning your head to look at him. “I've been waiting for you.” You whisper.

“I know. That's why I couldn't come back. I'm not supposed to be here.” He says.

“Why?”

“Humans are forbidden.” He answers.

“Forbidden for what?” You ask. “Is that why you've been following me?” You wonder.

“I just needed to see you.” He says. “But I'm not allowed to.”

“I know what you are. You've been watching me for months, Chan. But I've been watching you too.” You admit.

“I know you’ve been watching me, Y/N.” He chuckles. “I should go.” He murmurs, standing up from the chair.

“I don't want you to go.” You say, standing up. You stand in front of him, your hand on his hard, muscular chest. “Stay.”

“I can't. I shouldn't have come.” He says, trying to move past you but you don't let him.

“Don't you want me?” You ask, trailing a finger down his chest and to his stomach. “Because I want you so fucking bad.”

“Fuck, i do.” He whispers. You move your hand up to his shoulder, pushing him down. He drops down to his knees, staring up at you. You smile down at him, lifting your leg, resting it on the chair. You pull up your nightgown, exposing your already wet pussy. Chan licks his lips as he leans forward, his eyes still on you. He hesitates for a second before he moves in, wrapping his lips around your clit. Your body jerks at the feeling of his lips on you. It doesn't take him long to get fully into it, sucking and licking you completely. His large but cold hands grip your thighs as he continues devouring you. You moan loudly, gasping as your orgasm builds quickly. Your hand grabs his hair, holding on tightly as you grind your cunt on his face.

“Oh god, Chan. Fuck… fuck.” You cry out, grinding faster as his tongue and lips work their magic. “Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” You cry, practically ripping his hair out of his scalp as you cum, all over Chan's face, gasping for air while you work through your high.

You bring your leg down, almost stumbling back. Chan catches you in a split second, smiling as he licks your juices off his lips. “You're going to get me into trouble.” He murmurs, tossing you on the bed.

“Hands and knees.” He demands. You don't say anything, except move into position. Chan lifts your dress up over your ass as you spread your legs even more. “Good girl.” He mutters. You can hear him unzip his pants from behind you. Your mouth was practically drooling, imagining the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Your cunt clenches as you impatiently wait for him, you were dripping with cum and desperately needed him to fuck you, right now.

“A little needy, are we?” He asks, stepping towards you.

“Very.” You gasp. “Please fuck me.”

“I'll have to be gentle with you.” He says.

“Sometimes I forget my own strength.”

“Don't be gentle with me.” You whimper. “I want you to destroy me.”

You can hear Chan chuckle behind you. “Your wish is my command.” He says. You can feel him pushing his tip into your hole, and you already wanted to cum again. Chan slowly slides his cock into your cunt, stretching you out in ways you had never had before. Your hands grip the bed sheets as he continues to push into you.

“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your arms giving out on you. You lay with your ass up, face being pushed into the mattress as Chan pulls out, before forcing himself back into you. You cry out loudly, the only sounds you can hear are Chan grunting as he rams himself into you, and you moaning and crying out in nothing but pure bliss as he destroys your pussy.

“You like that?” He asks, landing a hard slap on your ass.

“Y-yes.” You cry. “Shit.”

Chan moves one of his hands between your legs. It feels like ice on your clit as he rubs you, wanting to make you cum again. Your breathing gets heavier as your eyes roll back, your orgasm approaching at a record time. “Please, please…. fuck…. Please.” You scream.

“Cum all over my fucking cock.” He grunts, leaning forward to grab your hair this time. You yelp as he pulls your head back, having you lean against him. He moves his hand from your clit, Pulling your nightgown over your head, discarding it somewhere behind him. He continues thrusting into you while he reaches around, grabbing your tits. He pinches and pulls at your nipples while you move your hand down between your lips, rubbing yourself while he fucks you. He kisses your neck while slowly pushing his cock into you over and over again.

Your orgasm is building quickly, again. You moan out, mumbling some words about cumming.

“What do you need, baby?” He whispers into your ear.

“I need you to fuck me harder.” You gasp. Chan doesn't reply, instead forcefully pushes you back down onto the bed. His hands grip your hips, ramming his cock into you. You knew he was holding back because he was inhuman strength but even this was fucking wrecking you and you loved it.

“Just like that.” You cry, rubbing your clit harder and faster. Seconds later, your orgasm hits you, jolting pleasure through your whole weak body. Chan digs his fingers into your hips as he chases his own high.

“So tight.” He grunts. “Fuck.” He moans. You throw his head back as his own orgasm hits. He grunts loudly as he cums, spilling his cum into you. You clench your cunt around him, making his orgasm even better.

“Jesus christ.” He sighs, pulling his cock out of you. He moves to sit down on the chair, smiling widely as you collapse on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

“That's about right.” You murmur.

You can hear him standing up, getting dressed. You sit up on your bed, watching him getting ready to leave.

“Don't go.” You say. He gives you a sympathetic smile.

“I can't stay. I'm already going to get shit for being gone so long. And now fucking a human, that's going to be worse. Nothing more can happen while you're human.”

You struggle to get off your bed, scooting to the edge to stand in front of him. You look up at him and smile widely.

“Then change me.” You say.

“I can't… that's not an option.” He murmurs.

“Why?” You ask.

“I want you. I want to be with you. Don't you want that too?”

“More than you know.” He murmurs.

“Then do it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“I'm sure.” You whisper. Chan leans in close to you, putting his ear near your lips.

“Say it one more time and I'll do it right now.” He whispers. You hold him closely, smiling as you whisper into his ear.

“Change me, baby.”

#chan smut #bang chan smut #vampire chan #vampire chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz writing #skz #stray kids writing #skz imagines #skz fanfic #kpop writing #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop #kpop smut

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lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Text

Rise & Surprise

MDNI +18 (READ THIS)

Your heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

You’ve never done this before.

You never thought you would have done this before.

But you couldn't hold it anymore after waking up and seeing Anton fine nose.

All you had in thought was how it would feel.

All you wanted to do was take a seat on that lovely nose, feel those lips with your lips.

Oh, the many things you want to do with Anton's face right now.

Poor thing looks so peaceful while he sleeps having no idea what you’re thinking of doing to him.

But Anton did mention he wanted to try somnophilia.

So why not give it a try?

“Fuck it” You whispered to yourself as you slowly get up and take off your sleep shirt and underwear.

Now fully nude, trying to remain quiet while clawing to Antons face. You feel so guilty and nasty.

“Oh fuck” you sigh as you place your legs between Anton face now hovering over his face.

Then you gradually place your lips on his face and with a soft moan you start grinding on him.

Softly moaning when his nose bumps with your clit. Your hands going to his soft brown locks trying not to tug too hard.

“Just like that” you moan out, you lightly arche your back. You couldn’t hold it to yourself. lips now rubbing on lips, nose rubbing on clit, thighs gently pressing on face.

Then all of a sudden you felt it

His tongue starting to lick every inch of your clit.

You feel the bed shift, Anton is moving his face closer to your core. Hands moving up to spread your thighs farther, He makes a Mmmmmm! sound as he buries his head deeper into your pussy. Not letting go while he has you in his hold, fighting for dominance.

All you could do is look down at the man who’s doing wonders with his tongue.

His already looking at you watching your very move. Now sticking his tongue out letting you rub your self on his face. His hands move up to your hips helping you ride his face as he moves your hips back and forward.

The taste of you settles on Anton’s tongue all he can do is lick deeper. Now finally sticking his tongue in your already soaking wet hole.

You gasp at the feeling of his tongue and nose now pressed onto your center with suck force you feel an orgasm coming along.

“Fuck! Anton.. I.. I’m so close” you stutter rocking your hips with a loud whimper.

“Yeah baby just like that” Anton says breathlessly as he puts his mouth back on you. “Cum for me pretty” He mumbles on your lips, the vibration is the final straw before you let all your sweet juices out.

Anton licks and sucks all the juices your core gives and with that he lets you go with a pop. Softly helping you getting off of his face.

“Good morning love” Anton’s says with a cheeky smile on his face. God how good he looks with your wetness on his face.

So fucking handsome

“Good morning” you replied almost out of breath. Chest going up and down in a dangerously fast pace.

“I just had a really good breakfast but I’m still hungry” Anton says on your ear making your core wet again.

“You don’t mind if I eat again? Right love?”

“How could I say no to you, my love.”

———————————————————

I can’t believe I wrote this while in public😵‍💫

Oh well, I really do hope you guys like this🤗 and also..

Also thank you @ratedfleur for inspiring me with one of your posts about Anton and his big nose. I will be putting that post here for the people who want to read it.

The post is here

I’m very sorry for not posting stories since last year🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

But I won’t do that again (I hope)

Either way my requests are open so feel free to ask what yall want me to write next or about.

I just might make your wish come true.🧞‍♀️

Another Also shout-out to my bestie Annie for fixing this story for me!!!

Love you bestie.

#anton x reader #anton #riize anton #anton lee #riize #lee anton smut #anton smut #riize smut

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lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Text

Worth It In The End | Anton [NSFW]

Anton Lee/Lee Chanyoung - RIIZE

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~ 6.9k (lol)

Pairing: Anton x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, Angry Sex, Kinda Angst, Jealousy

!!This is smut...if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Summary: After Anton gets jealous and does something rash in his jealousy, you get pissed.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Anger, Jealousy, Pet Names (Pretty Girls, Baby, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! & M! Receiving, Fingering, Deepthroating, Size Difference, Size Kink, Cock-Bulge (a bit), Overstimulation, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Big Dick! Anton (yay)

Author's Note: What is this? I actually wrote something to completion? And posted it? Must be why the weather is crazy...

Also, this is a dream I had... The only thing that's different is my freaking dad cutting a whole in our wall upstairs woke me up right after I got to the hotel room.

P.S. Where the hell did SM find him? He's just so freaking gorgeous...

P.P.S. the middle picture is Shohei Ohtani

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if it's to the other site! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

You go to almost every single event Anton is in, he’s your best friend after all, and you only miss if you’re sick. You however, much prefer his swim meets to his baseball games. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s shirtless when swimming, because you like his butt in his baseball uniform even more. You don’t try to hide how attractive you find him even if you are just friends, you aren’t blind. The reason you prefer his swim meets is because, for some reason, less of his fan-girlies come to those. Probably because they aren’t as “cool” or they don’t even know he’s also on the swim team. This upcoming baseball game though is very special. It’s the first time in over 20 years your university has made it to the national championships, but that means it’s a much, much bigger event than normal. That is why you kind of didn’t want to go, but all your girl friends are going too, and Anton had nearly begged for you to join. Reluctantly, you’d said yes.

In the end, you’re glad you decided to go, because each member of each team gets to pick one friend or family member to sit in the best seats, and Anton chooses you. His parents aren’t able to go because of their work schedules and so you get the honor. What that does mean however is that you’re sitting in the stands with a bunch of parents, so 40- and 50-year-olds, and you feel out of place to say the least. As more and more people get to the stands, you debate going up to the much worse seats just so you can be with your friends.

“How the hell did you end up here?” You hear a teasing voice, and you startle, looking up at the owner of the voice. You sigh in relief, huffing a laugh as he sits down. You believe his name is Jacob or something, and you know his brother is on the team. You’ve had a few classes with him but aren’t exactly friends, but he’s better than some middle-aged dad or over-protective mother.

“Take a guess…”

“Anton.”

“Yep.”

“How long have you two been dating?”

“Huh? We’re not dating.”

“You’re just friends?”

“Yeah?”

“Good, then he won’t punch me for talking to you.”

“He wouldn’t anyway…” You huff, shaking your head. As more and more people fill the stands, you joke back and forth with Jacob, the two teams coming out and practicing some. When you see Anton step out, you wait to see if he looks over to where you are and when he does, you smile wide, and wave. He waves back with a smile, and you don’t notice it fall into a scowl when you look at Jacob as he says something about the music playing over the loudspeaker making you laugh. You also don’t feel him glaring at the guy next to you, or see him roll his eyes before getting out onto the field. Right before the game starts, the other guy heads up to get food and he offers to get you some, so you tell him just to get you a soft pretzel or something.

“Hey.” You look down toward the field, seeing Anton leaning against the barricade, probably standing on some ledge or something, but he is still tall enough to allow him to fold his arms on the edge and his chin on his arms.

“Hey! You nervous?” You lean forward so it’s easier to hear each other over the loud music. He shrugs. You can tell by his face that he’s clearly not all that happy, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or what.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” His tone is terse, and you wonder if he’s upset about something, but don’t even ponder if it could be at you.

“Here comes the bitch brigade…” You mumble, seeing the cheerleaders heading out onto the field. He huffs a soft laugh, but it doesn’t reach his face.

“You still pissed at the whole team?”

“I wouldn’t be if the whole team didn’t bitch about me just because you’re my friend.”

“Yeah, well then, don’t be a bitch of a friend.” He snaps and storms off, heading back to the rest of the team. You flinch back at the harsh statement, wondering what the hell’s gotten into him. You then realize he must be upset at you, but you can’t think of even a fleck of what you could’ve done.

“Earth to (Y/N).” Jacob’s voice brings you back to reality and you take the pretzel he hands you.

“Thanks…”

“You good?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Soon, the game starts, and you manage to forget for the moment that Anton, your best friend ever, was pretty obviously pissed at you. When there’s a longer intermission between the fourth and fifth inning, you get up to find the restroom. Of course, there’s a long line out of the girls’ and so you lean against the wall to wait.

“Did you see number 17 on the other team?”

“Oh, yeah, Lee, right?”

“When the camera for the big screen zoomed in on him, I almost fainted.”

“He’s so fucking hot.”

You roll your eyes as you hear a trio of girls talking, waiting in the line in front of you. They’re clearly fans or classmen of the other team based on what they’re wearing… As if you didn’t have enough rabid girls to deal with from your own school.

“Hey, you’re here for the other school, yeah?” One of the girls catches your attention and you look up to see the three of them are looking at you. You try to casually cross your arms to hide the 17 you have on the front of the shirt you’re wearing. Anton’s bigger than you enough you’re wearing his spare uniform shirt like a dress with a ribbon-belt you braided of the school’s colors around your waist.

“Uh…yeah.” If it was a professional game, you’d be less worried, plenty of fans wear merch shirts at games, but neither school offers those types of shirts. They either don’t notice or don’t know how to read, because they don’t mention it.

“Do you know Lee then?”

“Yeah…”

“What was his first name, Anthony?”

“Nah, just Anton.”

“So you do?”

“Uh…something like that, yeah.”

“Is he single?” That question feels like a shiv in the gut, and you try to hide your wince. Why are you so upset? He’s just your friend… You have no right to be jealous.

“No idea.” You shrug. Before you can even get to the point in line you can get into the bathroom, you leave the line and head back to the stands. You sit back down right before the game starts back up again and you manage to hide that you’re upset so Jacob doesn’t notice. You two crack jokes through the whole game and you even ask if his girlfriend would mind him talking to you.

“Nah, she’s never been the jealous type. She’s pretty good at telling if a girl is actually flirting or not, too.”

Once again, you forget about your own upset as the game continues, your school’s team absolutely destroying the other team. When Anton’s team wins, it’s not even close and the people there for your school flood the field in cheers as confetti and other such things are launched and shot into the air. You decide to head down as well and see if you can find Anton and congratulate him first. As you weave through the crowd, wincing at the overwhelming smell of beer, you finally reach a break in the crowd. Looking around to try and see him, you catch a flash of a cheerleader in her uniform. Gently shoving people out of the way to see her better, guessing her and her gaggle are trying to find their “prince”, you freeze. Anton was there for sure, but with just one cheerleader, and she’s way too close. Like…close. Yeah, the crowd is dense, but there is still no reason for-

“You looked so good out there~”

“Did I?” The tone in his voice is what you’re used to him sounding like around the fangirls; bored. When he turns and catches a sight of you, you smile, ready to head closer, but you halt again. He sees you, and smirks, then looks back at the girl.

“So did you~” His voice immediately dropped to a flirty tone, and it pierces you, not just in the heart, but in the spirit. He steps even closer to her, you didn’t think it possible, and leans down. She giggles, flirty, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and your heart falls. While immediately you feel heartbroken, you then get horribly jealous. Anton’s eyes meet yours again, making you jerk in a flinch, and he leans down and kisses- Your entire body freezes when he kisses her, and it’s obvious it’s more tongue than anything. You see red and you turn to storm off, shoving people hard out of the way, but luckily your small stature doesn’t really do any damage. Getting off the field you head into the lower hall of the stadium and get to a private bathroom. You let the heavy door slam close and you lock the door. Huffing, you lean against the sink counter, staring down into the basin, then up into the mirror. Your face is red and blotchy, eyes even a bit bloodshot and even looking at yourself, you can’t tell if you’re more angry or hurt. He’s definitely upset with you, but why the actual fuck did he decide to tongue-fuck that girl’s mouth just because he saw you? Was he getting back at you? But for what-

“Damn it!” You realize, slamming your hand down onto the counter. He saw you with Jacob… But, even if that made him jealous, why would sucking face with a member of the bitch brigade equate to you cracking jokes with a guy?

“That stupid fucker-“ You scoff, leaving the bathroom and storming down the hall, not even thinking to use the restroom. Because you had the fancy little pass that got you the fancy little seat in the fancy little section for the friends and family of the team, they let you into the lower hall that leads to the locker rooms. Many parents and other family members were lingering around to wait for and/or are talking to other members of the team. Realizing it would be a very poor decision to go into the locker room, even if that’s what you want to do, you wait right by the door. Crossing your arms, tapping your foot, you don’t even know if he’s in there yet and so you keep looking down the hall as more players start to flow in. Finally, you see him, alone, joking around with two other team members. For a brief, fleeting moment, your ire dissipates, seeing your favorite smile on his face, clearly happy that the team won. When he sees you, his eyes harden to match yours and the air gets icy. His teammates look between the two of you then scurry into the locker room.

“She taste good?” You sneer and he scoffs.

“What?”

“I know you only did that because you saw me there. What the actual fuck?”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, (Y/N).”

“What?”

“You were slutting it up with Dylan’s brother.”

“No I wasn’t! He has a girlfriend, first of all. Second of all, we were just dicking around, joking.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What right do you have to get upset anyway? We’re friends, just friends.”

“Then why are you so pissed if I did kiss that girl?” You can’t answer, because he’s right. So, you decide to be honest.

“I am jealous.” He clearly wasn’t expecting you to straight out admit it, because he gapes at you for a few seconds, then his gaze hardens again.

“Then you know how I felt.”

“Wait- You kissed Miss Bitch because you were jealous I was platonically joking with a guy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s- That’s fucked. How is that equal? I was talking and so you decide to tongue-fuck her mouth in retaliation?” Your words seem to resonate with him because the anger on his face falls. It’s very obviously not close to being the same, and it’s not even just a step up. You scoff, resting your hand on your forehead, just soft enough to not be a full-on slap.

“Oh…my god… You-“ You release a shaky breath, tears pricking in your eyes and you still can’t tell what the emotion behind it is.

“Anton~!” You both flinch at the annoyingly familiar voice. You snort a dry laugh.

“Oh, here she comes, Miss Bitch. Well, have fun getting herpes or whatever.” You turn to leave, going to pull your satchel off your shoulder to get your phone and call an Uber, definitely not wanting to wait and go back to the hotel with Anton.

“(Y/N), wait!” He calls and you keep going, flipping him off.

“Damn it, (Y/N), wait a fucking second-“ His much longer legs allow him to catch up and he grabs your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but secure enough you know you can’t pull away. He turns you back to face him and the hurt on both of your faces is clear to the other.

“What…what room are you staying in?” He finally manages to get out.

“Why do you-“

“I need to deal with winning shit first, but then we’re dealing with this. I won’t even give that girl a second look, and don’t you dare do anything between here and the hotel.”

“Why should I listen to you?” He pauses, not sure how to answer. You wait.

“Please.” He asks softly and it pierces through you, popping your balloon of anger and you deflate, sighing.

“Fine. Room 127.” Anton lets you go, and you watch as he turns and heads straight into the locker room, up-right ignoring the cheerleader. When she notices this, she scoffs, looking at you, clearly blaming you. As she should, and you’re glad she does. You raise a brow, giving her a condescending look then turn around and head back down the hall. Sending a text to your friends, you let them know you’re heading to the hotel first, claiming to have a headache and they let you know they’re going to some after party. Like you agreed with Anton to do, you head straight back, not even stopping at a convenience store to get a snack.

After you get back to the hotel you just stand in the middle of the room for a good ten minutes, staring at a random spot on the carpet. You really didn’t want to have to deal with your turbulent emotions any day, but especially not now. The implication of their mere presence is enough to knock you off your feet. You know deep down why you’re jealous, but actually verbalizing it, even in your own head voice, is too much. Finally deciding to not loiter in your own hotel room, you turn to head to the restroom since you never had gotten the chance to go. After, you stare at your still somewhat blotchy face in the mirror, then sigh. The number 17 in big bold letters on the shirt you’re wearing is like a splinter in your eye. You aggressively undo the belt holding it around your waist and yeet the belt into the room, though it barely went anywhere since it was basically a ribbon. With a grunt and way more effort than it really should take, you remove the shirt-dress and drop it on the bathroom floor. Starting at yourself in the mirror again, just in a plain nude bra and a pair of purple boy-shorts undies, you feel horribly inadequate. You bet when that stupid cheerleader takes her uniform off, she has some frilly set on… Probably a sports bra, actually, but it makes you wonder if she even looks better in that than you do right now. She was a good four or five inches taller too…

You startle when there’s a knock on the door and you huff, looking around before realizing the fastest thing to put on would be the shirt. Grabbing it you go to the door and look through the peephole, and it’s not Anton, but a hotel employee.

“Uh, hold on!” You hurry to put the shirt back on and it looks significantly more suggestive without the belt somehow, like you were wearing your boyfriend’s-

“Uh, yeah?” You open the door just enough to peak your head out and the bellhop smiles.

“Are you (Y/N)?”

“Yes…”

“We were told to deliver this bouquet if the SM team won the championship?” He’s holding the bouquet of flowers you had ordered way ahead of time, if need be, of course.

“Oh, right, thanks…” You open the door enough and take it from him and he nods a bow and then leaves. Sighing you head back into the room, the bouquet dangling in your hold as your arms drop. Looking down at the flowers, the same colors of your school, you take a few deep breaths. Setting the flowers on the dresser that’s also the stand for the TV, you look again at your reflection, though its much less clear in the black screen than the bathroom mirror.

There’s another knock and you think that for sure is Anton, so you take a few breaths to psyche yourself up and go to the door. But, when you open it, it is in fact not Anton, but another hotel employee.

“We received a call to have this delivered to your room, Miss Hwang.” The concierge smiles and you take the box from her. She bows softly and then leaves. You head back into your room, brow furrowed, looking over the white box with a ribbon glued to it. Setting it down, you lift up the lid and inside is a box of chocolates with a little note. You take the note and read it, and all it’s says is “Sorry” with Anton’s name. You huff a small laugh, corner of your mouth tilted up a bit. You weren’t sure when he would show up, who knows what kind of celebration stuff he had to do, however… Four hours is very much too long and very much not okay. If he was going to be so particular about you going straight to the hotel, why the hell was he taking for-fucking-ever?

As you watch some random episode of Friends on the TV, the empty box of chocolates on the floor next to you, you brood. After waiting about an hour and a half, you took your bra off, not wanting to deal with it any longer. You’re sitting against the headboard, arms crossed, ankle crossed over the other, legs slightly rocking side to side. Then…there’s a knock, finally. Your anger flares white-hot again and you nearly throw yourself off the bed and storm to the door. Looking through the peephole, you see Anton standing there, looking a bit nervous. He’s in normal clothes and has his duffle slung over his shoulder.

Purposefully being loud with unlocking the chain and the dead bolt on the door, you through the door open, glaring up at him.

“Get in here ass-munch.”

“Excuse me?” But he does so anyway. You let the door close, not caring if it was two in the morning, and that there are in fact other people at the hotel.

“Four hours? Really?”

“I didn’t know it would be so long-“

“You get herpes?”

“What?”

“You were with Miss Bitch, yeah?” Anton sighs, dropping his duffle and closes his eyes, rubbing over his forehead.

“No. I had to deal with the after-party. I told you that.”

“No, you said you’d deal with ‘winning shit’ and then be here. I was expecting at the most an hour after I left the stadium. Was the ‘sorry’ for bailing on me or for being a dick?” I grab the box of chocolates off the floor and chuck the empty container at him. He catches it, rolling his eyes and sets it on the table.

“You’re still pissed?” You scoff, huffing in utter disbelief.

“I wasn’t. Now I’m pissed for a different reason! Because, gee, I don’t know, you lied?”

“I did not lie.” He takes a step closer, anger coming back to his normally sweet face.

“Then why couldn’t you have texted me at least?” He doesn’t answer, licking his lips. Whether he didn’t think of that, or you had caught him, you weren’t sure.

“Get out.”

“What-“

“Get. Out.”

“Damn it, (Y/N), just…take a fucking breath-“

“You douche!” You surge forward swatting at him, then you shove him, your nearly foot-shorter body not doing very much damage.

“Hey-!” He tries to grab your wrists to stop your wild swatting but you’re faster than he expected.

“I wasn’t with her!”

“Prove it!” He scoffs, wondering how the hell to do it.

“Was she any good?”

“I told you I wasn’t-“

“She suck you off?”

“What?”

“I bet she’s good at it, yeah?”

“(Y/N)-“

“Probably to ‘congratulate’ you right?”

“Would you just-“

“Did you do a little quickie in the bathroom, or did you fool around at the party?”

“(Y/N)-“

“You gonna ask her out officially?”

“Damn it, just shut the fuck up for two seconds!” You flinch back at his outburst, startled that he would be that harsh with you. Anton’s breathing a bit hard, trying to calm down.

“I was not with her. I swear to God.”

You don’t say anything.

“First, I had to deal with the locker-room crap and the whole speech from the coach. Then we all went to shower, but by then the hot water had run out somehow and so they had us go to a different locker room, but I had to wait my turn. Then when we went to get on the bus, the tires were slashed. Probably other team or something. So, they had to get a different bus and by the time it arrived, it was already over two hours later. I made a token appearance at the after-party and then bailed. But I obviously had no way to get to the hotel, and every ride-share and taxi in town was booked to all hell so I had to walk. I came straight here after; I swear to God.”

“Then why didn’t you text me?” He still doesn’t answer the question.

“Anton.”

“I was worried what the guys would say if they saw I did.” He finally admits.

“So you care more about what your baseball-buddies might say if you text your best friend, but you don’t think for a second to care about what your best friend would think?”

“You didn’t text me.” He tries to counter. You scoff.

“I did.” You cross your arms and his face falls, and he digs in his pocket for his phone. After a few taps, a flashing battery appears on the screen. Dead.

“Oh…”

“You would’ve known it was dead if you tried to text me.” You sigh, grabbing the flowers you had delivered and hand them to him limply.

“Here, congrats on winning. Now get out.”

“What?” Anton reaches for the flowers, but hesitates.

“Get out. I really want to be alone.”

“You’re still mad?”

“Yes, I’m still mad!” You step closer, hitting him with the flowers, then again. Again-

“Damn it, (Y/N), knock it off!”

“Do you know how scared I was that you were mad at me!? But it was for something so- fucking- stupid-!” You continue to swing the flowers, some of the stems breaking, leaves and a few petals falling onto the floor. He finally grabs the bouquet and yanks it out of your hands and tosses them somewhere else. Since your weapon had been confiscated, your resort to smacking and punching his chest.

“(Y/N)- (Y/N)-“ He tries to grab onto your flailing hands to stop you but you’re relentless, angry tears welling in your eyes.

“You stupid- douche- how dare you- you’re the worst-“

“Stop for fuck’s sake!” He finally manages to grab your wrists and pins them to the wall, caging you in against it. You writhe in his hold, trying to break free.

“Why are you so damn big?!” You finally stop, breathing hard, body shaking a bit and you glare up at him.

“You and you’re stupid gorgeous face-“ You huff, and you can tell he’s gritting his teeth. His grip on your wrists tightens a bit.

“Can you please let me speak-“

“I can’t believe I like you, you stupid bastard, you’re just a huge fucking jerk-“

“(Y/N)!” Anton nearly growls, louder than he normally is and it startles you quiet. You both look at each other, breathing a bit heavy, and as if you have the same thought…

You moan a desperate whine when his lips slam into yours, arms going slack. His hand leaves one of your wrists so it can go to under your jaw, tilting your head to the right angle and he deepens the kiss. Your tongue meets his in a messy dance, little whimpers leaving your mouth as drool slips down your chin. The hand at your jaw moves to weave into your hair, tugging a bit harshly at the strands. The slight sting forces a moan out of you, and he groans in return, sucking on your tongue. Your head begins to swim, heart racing, leading you to need more air but he’s stealing it at the same time. You heave for air, panting, when he finally pulls back, lips still hovering over yours. Both of you breathe harshly, your breaths mingling and you just stare at his lips as he looks at the floor. You can tell he’s trying to calm down and you aren’t sure if it’s his anger or lust he’s trying to quell.

“I need…to calm down I don’t want… want to do anything-“ Anton’s clearly fighting some kind of internal battle but you don’t care.

“Just fuck me you pretty bastard.” You snap, still very annoyed, and if he doesn’t, you’ll get pissed again. When his eyes go back to yours, you feel a bit of the anger fizzle out, the fire transferring straight to your core, your walls clenching around nothing. You had never seen such an intense look from him and it kind of scared you a bit, but in the best possible way. Before you can think of the consequences-

“If you don’t, I’ll go find someone else-“ Anton nearly growls at that, grabbing you, lifting you, and literally tossing you onto the bed. You land with an oof on your stomach, and you don’t get the chance to roll over before his hands are on your hips, hauling you to the edge of the bed. You squeak when he shoves the shirt, his shirt, up higher, revealing just your panties on underneath. You hear a light thud as he falls to his knees and you gasp loudly, body flinching as he shoves his face against your covered cunt.

“A-Anton-!” You nearly squeak as he breathes in the scent of your arousal, his tongue swiping over your pussy through the fabric of your panties, wetting the rapidly soaking material even more.

“Fuck, you taste good…” He mutters, fingers going to the waistband. With a rough yank, he tears them at the seams to get them off, the breaking elastic snapping against your skin. The slight sting just fuels the fire in your guts he’s rapidly stoking.

“God~!” You gasp, fingers burying into the bedding for some kind of leverage as he mouths at your pussy, tongue swiping through your soaked folds, around your clit and then into your core. Anton groans obscenely as he devours you, fingers tight at the back of your thighs, very likely leaving bruises. But you don’t care, quite the opposite actually. Your orgasm is approaching at the speed of light, and your mind can’t keep up with your body.

“Anton~!” You can’t form the words to warn him, but he can feel your gummy walls clenching around his tongue and he works your through your orgasm and you cum on his tongue. But he doesn’t stop. Your lower half catches on fire from the continued stimulation but even if he knew the overstimulation stung, he probably wouldn’t stop. And you don’t want him to.

“Fuck~!” You gasp, breath leaving you as he suddenly sucks on your clit, shoving two fingers into your cunt. They curl expertly down against your weak spot and your vision spots.

“You taste so good, (Y/N), God I could do this all night…” He mumbles, his voice practically rumbling. Another squeak is forced out of you when he easily manhandles you to flip you onto your back, his arms wrap around your thighs, forcing your legs over his shoulders and he’s back on you. His face and your inner thighs are a mess, but you can barely get the air to breathe, let alone say anything. He sucks and licks at your clit, his long fingers spreading you open, pounding at the rough spot of your back wall, making your thighs and tummy twitch.

“A-Anton-!” You gasp, feeling a familiar but rare feeling rising.

“Cum for me, pretty.” He mutters and it sets you off. Your cunt makes a mess, of the bed, your thighs, his face, spurts of your release that he doesn’t catch with his tongue. You wince as his tongue swipes over your clit again, stinging. You catch your breath as he cleans your inner thighs off with his tongue. Getting the strength to move again, you prop yourself up on your elbows to see him still kneeling there, wiping his face off, then sucking your wet off his fingers.

“A-Anton-“ You blush hard, despite what he just did, the vulgarity of what he was doing and the groans he let out mortified you. When his eyes meet yours again, you feel all of the annoyance leave you and it gets replaced with desire. You obviously knew how attractive he was, you have eyes, but in this moment, he’s the hottest guy you’d ever seen. Almost as if time slows down, your mind goes blank as he finally takes his shirt off, his hands going to his belt to get his pants off too. Sure, you’ve seen him plenty of times shirtless, since he is a swimmer, but it’s different. In this moment, after what he just did to you and the promise of what else is to come, your mouth waters. He gets his belt off, making sure your eyes have moved to his hands as he undoes the button of his jeans.

“Wanna taste?” He asks lowly, his tone deep with lust, something you’ve never heard from him. You nod rapidly. He smirks. As he drops his pants, you scramble off the bed and kneel on the floor in front of him, eyeing the bulge in his boxers as if you were a puppy hungry for a treat. Enthralled, you watch as he hooks his thumbs in the waist band of his underwear, and pulls them off, his hard cock bouncing in the air. Your face falls in a gape, eyes widening.

“Why are you so damn big…?” You mutter, wiggling your jaw a bit at the thought it was going to hurt.

“Either use that pretty mouth or get on the bed.” You look up at him with big eyes, his own were nearly black, the intense expression something you’d never seen on him. It makes your pussy clench. Swallowing hard, you lick your lips and carefully wrap your hand around the base of his cock, fingers not even able to touch. Anton watches with a hooded gaze as you lean in and kiss the head of his cock. Swirling your tongue over the tip, you catch a taste of his pre, and you moan softly, vibrating your lips around him. He grunts and you start to take him into your mouth, sucking and forcing yourself to make more saliva.

“Fuck, (Y/N)~” He groans, fingers weaving into your hair as you take him deeper, drool already dripping down your chin. You bring your other hand up to cover the rest of his cock as he hits the back of your throat and your heart races as you come to terms with the fact he’s hung like a damn horse. You can feel your pulse in your cunt as bob your head, moving your hands to slick over the rest of him and his breathing picks up, fingers pulling at your hair gently. He opens his eyes as he hears you take in a big breath, and one of your hands falls as you take him deeper, gagging slightly as the head starts down your throat.

“Oh, fuck, pretty girl~” He sighs in bliss, grinning as he throws his head back with a nearly orgasmic groan. Your cunt pulses again and you continue to bob your head, partially burying his fat cock down your throat each time. You get just a bit deeper each time till your lips reach your hand. You swallow over and over to try and fight gagging, but do every once in a while. And you keep doing it, because the groan he lets out each time your throat flutters around his cock makes the discomfort worth it. Breathing harshly through your nose, your face and hands, and his cock, are coated in a sheen of your saliva and his pre, a drop of the mix falling to the floor every so often.

“Shit, (Y/N)-“ He grunts, fingers tightening at your hair. His head flops down to watch you suck him like he was candy, chin touching his chest. Your eyes glance up at him and that’s all he needs. You feel his cock twitch a few times before he cums down your throat. You had pulled him out just enough so you could breathe, swallowing down the hot spurts with soft moans to help him ride it out. After he’s finally finished, still half-hard, you pull back and look up at him panting, mouth open for him to see you swallowed it all.

“You okay?” He asks softly, more what you’re used to, and you shake your head, but your smirk prevents him from worrying.

“No~ I need more.” He smirks back and grabs your arm, hauling you up and tossing you on the bed, he crawls over you, looking down at you still in his spare uniform shirt. Your face is a mess and even down your throat a bit.

“Hm… As much as I love you in this shirt, I’m taking it off, because I’m not sure how to clean it if we get it messy~” He grins, the same soft playful look you’re used to from him. You smile back, no longer mad either. You both get the shirt off, leaving you bare under him and his big hand gently runs over your tummy, making you shiver.

“You’re so pretty~” He huffs a soft laugh, and you blush softly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah~” Anton looks back up at your face. Gently, he takes the edge of the sheet on the bed and wipes off your face. The dramatic shift back to his sweet self you’re so used to nearly takes your breath away.

“I’m sorry I kissed that girl… And I’m sorry I got jealous because… I’m sorry, I had no right to get so upset you were just talking to another guy…”

“And I’m sorry I yelled at you…and hit you with flowers…” He huffs a laugh at that, then cups your cheek and jaw in his hand, thumb running over your cheek.

“I love you…” He whispers and your eyes widen a bit, but then your face softens, and you smile back.

“I love you too.” His eyes meet yours and you watch in real time as they darken with lust again and he kisses you hard, tongue already in your mouth as your fingers weave into his hair, pulling him closer. He grabs your hips, hands smoothing down your legs, so he can lead you to wrap them around his waist. You do, gasping into the kiss as he grinds his hard cock against your bare pussy, and he groans. As he pulls back from the kiss, a trail of saliva connects your lips, and he grabs your hands. He weaves his fingers through yours and hold your hands up by your head, looking down as he shifts his hips so the head of his dick is pressing at your entrance.

“Do we need a-“

“Do you even have one?”

“…no.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“So I can…?”

“Anton, please, just fuck me-“ Your words are cut off by a harsh gasp, your lungs forcing the air out of you as he starts to press in. Anton’s cock carves a hot path into you, feeling like he’s searing your cunt as he enters, but in the best possible way.

“Fuck, you’re tight…” He breathes harshly too, trying to hold back and not just start to rail you, because he knows he’s big, and knows you have to get used to him. Luckily, earlier, he had fucked you open with his fingers, but you’re still small, especially compared to him.

“Fuck- fuck- fuck-“ You breathe a bit too fast, eyes watering. It stings, burns, it’s good but it’s a lot.

“Breathe, baby, breathe…” He coaches, kissing gently over your face, at the corners of your eyes to kiss away the tears.

“Y-you’re a… damn horse…” You gasp out and he can’t help but huff a laugh, knowing you couldn’t be in too much distress if you were still joking around.

“Maybe you’re just small?” Anton hums, pressing his forehead to yours. He looks down, grunting softly, seeing your slick folds stretched to accommodate his girth, his cock not even all of the way in when he hits your back wall. He’s nearly entranced as he watches your cunt struggle to hit him inside, the feel of your gummy walls twitching around him is addicting.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…” He mutters, eyes tracing over what he’s pretty sure is a bulge on your stomach under your belly button.

“T-to split me in half…?” You huff a strained laugh.

“To make you mine…” His sincerity makes you whimper softly, and he hums as your pussy clenches him tighter.

“Tell me when you’re ready, pretty girl.”

“Go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He pulls out just an inch, and it’s like he’s sucking the air out of you, your soaked pussy making obscene noises and he grins.

“You’re so wet~”

“A-Anton, just-“ Your whole body twitches, hips jumping as he thrusts back in, a very shallow but hard thrust. He buries his fat cock all the way inside you then, and he knows for sure your stomach is bulging then, able to see it much clearer.

“You’re so tiny, pretty~” He huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around your leg. He moves it from his waist and up over his elbow, changing the angle and he thrusts again. Your back arches, the one hand still in his gripping it harder, the other white knuckling the sheets.

“Can you handle it?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Anton, just fuck me.” So he does. He pulls out a little less than halfway, and then back in with a sharp snap of his hips and you immediately feel your orgasm approach. He can feel your walls spasm, remembering the flutter from when you came around his tongue and so he picks up the pace. He barrels through your orgasm and your eyes spark with tears from the intensity, mouth hanging open, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth.

“Anton~!” Your scream is nearly a squeal and your breath heaves as you cum hard, cunt squirting all over his groin this time and he nearly rumbles a groan.

“Oh, baby girl, so good for me~” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses over your skin, sucking and licking every so often. Your mind goes blank when he hitches your other leg over his elbow and picks the pace up, barreling his dick against your back wall. The sloppy sound of your slick cunt squelching and the slapping of skin, mixed with your squeaks and his grunts leave nothing to the imagination if anyone were to walk past the hotel room. Luckily it was past three in the morning, but if anyone was in the room next door, they probably can hear the bed frame knocking against the wall. Your noises start to get louder, especially as you get closer to cumming again, so he swallows your noises in a kiss. The taste and feel of his tongue on yours puts you over the edge again, and he groans at the vice of your wet core. You feel his cock twitch between waves of your orgasm, and he nearly whines as he paints your insides white, a mix of your releases spurting out from around where he’s splitting you open. Anton pulls back from the kiss so you can both catch your breaths, and he grins, pressing his forehead to yours.

“God, I love you so fucking much…” He mumbles and you hum softly, sleepy and satisfied.

“And I loved your fucking so much~” You smirk, and he pulls back to look at you with a slightly exasperated look.

Master-Master List

#anton x reader #anton smut #anton #riize #riize anton #anton lee #riize smut #riize is 7

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lovelyannoyingcher · 2 months ago

Text

·˚ ༘ ❝DOLLHOUSE❞·˚ ༘

人形 ˖ 𝑓em!r .. forbidden lovers—suggestive. smut. set in 1864. [think vampire diaries]

tw: mdni (18+). making out. fingering(?). cheating? profanity. oral [fem receiving]. sough rex. and me not knowing how many times you told him you’re his 💔 i didn’t proofread its 2 am.

No one knew who built it, or why it sat there in the middle of the woods like something out of a broken child’s dream. The dollhouse, with its peeling pastel paint and crooked shutters, looked like it had been plucked from a nightmare and forgotten in the fog. Carriages passed it sometimes, wheels cracking over the cobblestones just beyond the trees. But no one ever looked twice—too busy clutching their gloves, hiding behind lace veils, and speaking in proper tones that didn’t allow for the idea of secret places. But to them, it had always been a promise. Back when handwritten letters smelled like perfume and sin. Back when love meant stolen glances across candlelit parlors and pressed hands beneath linen tablecloths. They used to call it their forever. Now, it was just a place where liars came to remember how to be honest, if only for an hour.

The manor was quiet, as always. Too quiet for its size—each step echoing through corridors lined with oil portraits of men who had never known how to love. You drifted through it like a ghost in white lace, corset tight against your ribs, hair pinned to perfection like something meant to be admired, not touched. The Duke, your husband, sat somewhere behind a study door, surrounded by brandy, books, and boredom. He spoke to you only when formality demanded it—and even then, not by your name. It was always Lady, My wife, The Duchess. You hated how those titles fit you like a borrowed dress—meant for someone else.

You stopped at the window in the west wing. It was the only one that overlooked the forest, and in the distance, shrouded by fog and trees, you swore you could almost see it—the crooked little house that still knew your name. Your fingers curled around the windowsill, nails digging into painted wood. You thought of him. Jungwon. The only name you said aloud in your dreams.

“Darling?” The voice didn’t belong to Jungwon. It belonged to the man who had placed a ring on her finger and a cage around her heart. “They’re waiting for us,” the Duke said, his tone all silk and expectation. “You’ll want to look your best.”

You nod fixing up your corset before heading down. The ballroom glowed like a portrait gilded in gold—music swelling from a string quartet, crystal laughter laced with champagne, gowns sweeping the floor in a blur of lace and ambition. Every name, every title, every whispered scandal glided through the air on the edge of fans and smirks.

Everyone knew everyone. But no one knew about the dollhouse. No one knew about the promises made under moonlight, or the fevered hands that undressed truth in the dark. Jungwon stood across the room. One glance, and time fell apart. They weren’t here anymore. Not really. Not with silk gloves and chamber music. They were back in their little house of secrets—pressed against peeling wallpaper, mouths locked in desperate silence, fingers tangled in hair and ribbon and everything forbidden.

You walked beside the Duke like the perfect duchess—graceful, composed, your gloved hand resting lightly on his arm. The very picture of elegance. No one would’ve guessed you had just been standing at the window, staring into the woods like you’d left something behind and was waiting for it to call you back.

“Smile,” he whispered through his teeth, the way a man might whisper about politics or wine. Not out of love—just habit. Just image. And so, you smiled.

Your lips curved, your eyes softened, and you became what they all expected: the woman who had everything. But inside, your heart was still in that crooked house, where your name was gasped instead of spoken, where love wasn’t rehearsed or dressed in gold. You could feel him watching you.

Jungwon. Always watching.

And when you finally met his gaze across the room, it wasn’t polite. It wasn’t proper. It was memory—hot and reckless and stained in candlelight. In that moment, you remembered his lips against your throat, the way he whispered your real name, the sound you made when he pushed you against the wall and promised he’d never let you go. You blinked, and the memory vanished—but his eyes didn’t.

The manor had fallen into silence once again. Only the soft creak of the floorboards and the distant tick of the grandfather clock kept you company. You husband had retired hours ago, sleeping off his wine in the master chambers, snoring softly beneath velvet sheets you had never warmed.

You stood before your mirror, corset unlaced, hair falling in soft waves over your shoulders, candlelight flickering like a heartbeat across your collarbone. Your fingers trembled—not with fear, but with hunger. With hope.

“Are you certain, my lady?” The voice belonged to Marianne, the only maid who knew everything. Not just where you went, but why. The only one who ever saw your heart bleeding through the lace. You nodded once, slipping on a cloak over her nightdress. “Just cover for me until dawn. Say I wasn’t feeling well. That I needed rest and locked the door behind me. No one will question it.” Marianne didn’t speak again. She only handed her the worn gloves she always wore on cold nights, and a lantern. “Go,” she whispered. “He’ll be waiting.” Before you went to him, you turned to Marianne, thanked her.

The fog curled around your ankles like it knew your name. Every step through the garden felt like stepping deeper into another world—one where titles didn’t matter, and promises weren’t made of gold but of flesh and truth. The forest was quiet, save for the crunch of leaves beneath your boots and the low howl of wind between the trees. And then— You saw it. The dollhouse. Still crooked. Still small. Still theirs. And standing just outside the door, lantern in hand, was Jungwon. Waiting.

You had barely made it up the steps before his hands were on you. Jungwon didn’t wait. He didn’t speak. He just pulled you in like a man drowning, and your mouth met his like salvation. It wasn’t gentle—it was open-mouthed, breathless, full of teeth and longing. The kind of kiss that bruised lips and rewrote sins. Your fingers tangled in his coat, pulling him closer, anchoring herself to the only thing that felt real. He cupped your jaw with one hand, the other already sliding beneath your cloak, clutching at the silk of your nightdress like it offended him just by existing.

“I thought I’d lose my mind,” he murmured against her mouth. “Watching you smile at him. Talk to him. Pretend like you weren’t mine.” “I’m not his,” she whispered, panting as he kissed down your neck, biting at the skin just below your ear. “You know that. You know who I belong to.” “Say it again.” “I’m yours.”

He groaned into your throat, hands fisting in the back of your dress, pressing her against the weathered wood of the dollhouse door. Your mouths met again—harder this time, more frantic, all tongue and heat and months of stolen glances and sleepless nights. Every sigh, every gasp, every desperate little noise you made told him: you needed this. You needed him. And tonight, he’d give you everything you’d been missing.

He pushed the door open without looking, your mouths still tangled like they couldn’t stand even a second of distance. You stumbled back into the space they once promised would be their home, the scent of old wood and forgotten dust curling around them like an oath. The door slammed shut behind them. Then—silence. For one trembling heartbeat, you just looked at each other, chests heaving, lips swollen, fingers twitching with the urge to tear away everything still between you two.

He was on you again, lips crashing into yours as you yanked at the buttons on his coat, breath breaking against his skin. He lifted your cloak from your shoulders like it burned him, tossing it to the ground before fisting the delicate straps of your nightdress in both hands. “This,” he growled against your collarbone, “has been in my way since the moment I saw you walk into that ballroom.” “Then take it off,” you gasped, nails dragging down his chest through the fabric, needy and impatient. “I want to feel your skin—please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Silk ripped like paper beneath his hands. You gasped as cool air kissed her skin, then his mouth was on your neck, chest, stomach—anywhere he could reach before you could beg for more. You tugged at his belt blindly, breath ragged, voice at a low whimper. “Jungwon, I need you—I need—”

“I know,” he breathed, kneeling in front of you, hands sliding up your thighs like prayer. “I’m going to take care of you. Every inch. Every part that’s ached for me.” He looked up at you from below, eyes dark, reverent, ravenous. “You remember what I do with my mouth, don’t you?” Your knees buckled. “God, yes.” He smiled. “Good. Because tonight I plan to make you forget how to stand.”

Your back hit the nearest wall, splintered wood pressing into your spine, but you didn’t care. All you felt was his mouth—hot, open, claiming—as he kissed down your stomach, slow and worshipful like he was tasting divinity in every inch. Your thighs parted for him like instinct, like a reflex carved from years of craving, and he settled between them on his knees like it was his rightful place.

“Look at you,” he murmured, breath ghosting over the heat of you. “Shaking for me.” He kissed the inside of your thigh—once, then again, slower, rougher—his teeth scraping just enough to make you moan. You tried to grind toward him, desperate for friction, but he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. And then he licked—long, slow, flat from bottom to top—and you nearly screamed. Your hands flew to his hair, clutching at the strands, trying to pull him closer, but he only chuckled against your soaked skin. “So needy. You’ve been aching for this, haven’t you? All those nights in his bed, wishing it was me between your legs…”

“Yes,” you choked out. “Only you. Only ever you.”

He groaned—deep, guttural—then dove in with a hunger that was filthy. His tongue moved like he knew you, like he was tracing every thought you’d ever had of him, licking up every memory, every moan. You bucked against his face, the sounds coming out of your mouth half-sobs, half-prayers.

“Fuck, Jungwon—don’t stop—please—”

He didn’t. Not when you cried out, not when your thighs started to shake, not when you tried to pull away from the intensity of it. He held you there, tongue flicking, curling, sucking like he was feeding on you. And when you finally broke—hips jerking, fingers tugging, breath shattering in his name—he didn’t stop. He ate through it, swallowing you down like your pleasure was holy.

Your legs were still shaking when he stood, his eyes dark and blown with hunger. He leaned in, dragging his tongue up you neck, whispering filth against your ear as he pressed his hardness against your ass through the thin fabric of his slacks. “You think I was done with you?” he rasped, voice wrecked. “No, my love. I’ve barely started.” He spun her around, chest to the wall, hands splayed above your head as he kicked your feet apart. Your nightdress was pushed up around your waist now—useless—nothing between them but a pulse of tension ready to snap.

You moaned at the feeling of him behind you, thick and hot, rutting slowly against her soaked entrance. “Jungwon…” “You want it?” he hissed, dragging the head of his cock along your folds, teasing, cruel. “Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you gasped, pushing your hips back. “I need you—need you to ruin me—right here, where it’s only us—where I can finally be yours.” That was all it took.He drove himself into you in one deep, punishing thrust, and you nearly screamed—head tipping back, hands clawing at the wall for balance as he filled you completely. “That’s it,” he groaned, teeth grazing the back of your neck. “Tight little thing… fuck, you missed this. You missed me splitting you open like this, didn’t you?” She could barely answer—just a broken string of moans as he slammed into you, hips snapping forward with every filthy smack of skin. He held your hips like you were a possession, a secret only he was allowed to claim.

“You’re mine,” he growled, thrusting harder, deeper. “You belong to me—not that fucking duke, not anyone else. Say it.”“Yours,” you gasped, voice cracking. “I’m yours—only yours—”He reached around you, fingers finding you clit and rubbing circles as he kept pounding into you, relentless. “That’s right. I’m gonna make you cum like this. Against this wall. My cock buried deep. So you never forget who owns this body.” You were unraveling—loud, messy, crying out his name as your climax built again, even harder this time. you clenched around him, and he lost it—his thrusts stuttered, breath hitched, and with a hoarse moan against your shoulder, he came deep inside you. They stayed like that for a moment—sweaty, breathless, shaking. Still connected. Still desperate. Still theirs.

By morning, you returned before the sun could rise, slipping beneath your covers with your skin still humming from his touch. The Duke never stirred. Marianne said nothing, only left a steaming cup of tea at her bedside and a knowing glance behind drawn curtains. Life went on. There were parties to attend, titles to uphold, reputations to polish. You stood beside your husband and smiled. Jungwon bowed politely from across the ballroom, and you curtsied in return—eyes never quite meeting, hearts never quite still.

But sometimes… when the fog rolled in just right, and the manor lay silent under velvet moonlight, you would rise from you bed, cloak you sins in silk, and return to the crooked dollhouse nestled in the trees. And he would be there. Waiting. Always.

leah’s note!; they hella changed identities, ran away somewhere else had hella babies and gave the dollhouse to marianne where she was fruitful and had plenty of her own babies (CUNTY) HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

#jungwon smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smau #yang jungwon

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