#daddy/sir/master if you can feel????

[an-annyeoing-writer]

Just want y'all to know I dreamed about Baekhyun today (again)

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

[agustdiv1ne]

telepathy (m) — cbg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!

note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*

☆ playlist ☆

masterlist

beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful. 

the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being. 

people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get. 

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 

reality crashes down on his head. 

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 

at least, he likes to think that you do. 

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 

just a little innocent curiosity. 

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it. 

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[fillinforlater]

On her back

Male Reader x Bae Joohyun

Length: 2958 words

Tags: Daddy kink, Master kink, breeding kink, literal breeding, like impregnation, rough sex, mating press (for literal, REAL mating), from loving to degradation, emotional manipulation, teasing, overstimulation, multiple creampies, spitting, toxic relationships

TW: rough impregnation, emotional manipulation, the usual "On her" stuff

Inspiration/Credit: not possible without @sooyadelicacies, my great co-writer and inspirator

(A/N: Reminder that OC is an asshole and that this is fiction. Anyways, rough daddy kink breeding sex, yay. Enjoy a subby!Irene lol. Btw, it's been more than a year since Part 1 came out!)

“I’m here if you need a break from all these youngsters xoxo”

You are alone in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz, quietly sipping on a cool, refreshing beverage with your airpods in. You need to destress and know just the person to see. You put your drink down and begin to close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap before you arrive at your destination. 

Maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was much longer than that, but you feel the car stop and you begin to wake. 

"We have arrived, sir."

Looking out, you find a beautiful secluded home surrounded by lush greenery. One of your many getaways. 

"Thank you, as always," you say politely as the door opens up for you and you're handed your luggage. You stroll up to the door and put in the passcode as well as the biometric scan of your fingerprint. But before you turn the knob, the door already opens and you are greeted by a stunning beauty. 

"Irene," you say simply. 

"Hello, my love."

"It's been a while," you add, a sigh on your lips, but you keep it down.

"It really has," the small woman responds, hands fidgeting on her sides as she just stands there, her boundless beauty that will persist for decades to come filling the air like the strong, vibrant smell of ripe fruits.

"God, you're so fucking pretty." 

This time, the sigh is at least palpable in the aftermath of your words when your arms reach out to her. Joohyun tenses up for a seconds before your embrace reaches her, caresses her back and finds rest on her butt. With ease, you pick the petite idol up and Joohyun's legs instinctively wrap around you.

You kiss her gently, lovingly. "Still tensing up? I thought I trained it out of you?" you tease. 

She blushes. "It's been a long time, Ma—" 

"Shh, not yet. There will be time for that. I need my lover right now, not my toy."

A soft smile on her face. One in a million, quite literally: days and weeks and months go by where she can never feel like this around someone else. They all make her put on the cold, reserved, distant smile, but with you finally by her side, she melts.

At least the temperature of her palms cupping your face is able to melt ice in seconds. Joohyun leans close to you and presses her lips on yours, her passion coming over you in a quiet explosion. A tad bit quicker, a little more tongue when she parts your lips, now you pull her in closer.

"God, I've missed this," she coos and you brush away her astray hair. 

"I have been busy... the young ones are quite—"

"Difficult? Always have been. Think of me back then."

You can't help but smile at the memories, though they also make your cock twitch against its cotton prison. Joohyun giggles. She must feel it poking her exposed midriff. 

"Those were fun times, but you know I'm still as tight as ever, only with more experience now. I promise I'll take away all of your stress today." 

"I know you will. That's why you know of this place. It's a short list, Irene." 

She smiles happily and melts her lips into yours once more.

With her secured around you, you wander off, straight to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything on your way. There are easily a hundred idols you'd just violently throw onto a bed like this and then destroy their tight pussies, but with Joohyun you remain careful for now. Lay her down on it, never disconnecting your lips.

Joohyun starts to undress immediately and instead of following suit, you decide to watch her. Many months ago was the last time you've seen her bare body—at least in real life, up close. There are dozens of videos you've filmed with her and she even sent nudes last month, a rarity for the outwardly timid idol.

"You're skin," you groan and reach for her bare tummy, then breasts. "Still porcelain, still smooth and perfect."

"Th-thank you. I made sure it's perfect, just for you."

"Not for the fans, not for the members? Not for your own self-gratification?"

"Only for you, my Master."

There she goes. 

"Music to my ears. Hearing such obedience. It's rare to find that nowadays, I wonder if my methods are getting stale?" 

You muse, but she knew it was your way of asking for her opinion, her advice. Bae Joohyun was an intelligent woman and admirable leader after all, and she knew all the tricks in the outside idol world and in your bedroom.

"Are you concerned about the outcome, even with all your leverage? Or is it getting too boring for you?" Before Joohyun can continue, you rub in between her legs, over her modest panties to find a little bit of wetness there. Joohyun opens her mouth; no moan, no breath, she just sinks into the sheets. "I-I just don't see the problem."

"They are just so damn cocky and continue to be. Disobedience, arrogance, self-centeredness, it's all running rampant nowadays."

"We weren't any better back then."

Press a finger onto her pussy lips, the fabric disappearing a bit into the increasingly aroused hole.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Ye-yes, Master. Suzy, IU, Jennie, even I—we were all a lot of trouble for you. I remember the reeducation training with Jessica and Nana. Maybe some things never change—ah, fuck."

Joohyun moans when your tongue trails along the side of her body, up to her collarbone where you place kisses. She is now trapped underneath you and with all your experience and ease, you join her in her (almost) nude state. 

Instead of your finger you place a knee on Joohyun's covered heat and she instinctively grinds on it and loses herself in needy, desperate, good girl whines. She starts to pout and you rake your fingers through her hair like—

"Like in good old times." Your deep groan fills Joohyun with love.

"Yes, Master."

"You know how to grind on this knee. You know how to make yourself look submissive. You know how to combust into nothing but bliss when I just command you too.

"Don't you, Irene?"

"Y-yes, Master! You're so good to me."

Joohyun hesitates and whimpers for a moment, looking at you. 

"Master… call me Joohyun please. Irene is for everybody else, but I am Joohyun and I am yours, my Master. Your whore, your slave." 

The shortlist came with perks. She could make such requests of you. 

"Jennie was one of the worst, but she is one of my biggest sluts, so I guess it only makes sense." You think out loud. 

"Joohyun, is it true Red Velvet will have their last comeback soon?" 

She can only nod and hum. 

"I'll have to fuck you after then too… to breed you." 

Her eyes widen and you feel a great dampness in her folds. 

"Master, it will finally be my turn?" 

"We've discussed this before." 

"I-I know… but I said you could breed me before then. You know I would give up my career for you, Master. I only wish to be your cumdump."

There she goes, melting into a shape you have foreseen years ago. Of course she has been ready for it, but the time is right right now.

"Good girl."

You pull aside her panties and give her pussy lips tiny smacks. Joohyun starts to mewl and whimper in this perfect pitch, the pitch only your hand can make her reach.

"M-Master, hng!"

"This hole is ready to be bred." Indeed, you find it to be exceptional compared to even to your best youngsters, perfect, especially the wetness is extraordinary. "Now spread your legs and tell me how much you need it."

"Master, I've needed it since I underwent your training. I didn't allow any man to touch me but you, Master. I am pure. I-I stopped any form of contraceptive. I've been waiting. I'm ready to walk away from being an idol because all I want is you, Master. I see comments online, I know people call me Mommy because of my age and looks, but the only Mommy I want to be is for your child, Master. Breed me please. I am your good girl. I always have been. This whore, this slut, needs her Master to complete my training, to make me your breeding bitch."

You deem these words to be enough, excessive even. There was no need for all of them to be said out loud, you could clearly see it in her eyes, the wanton desire for your cock creaming inside her.  Some people might call it cruel to her, but the last person to call it cruel is Joohyun herself.

You penetrate her gracefully, something she has not experienced ever. There was always a need to destroy her pussy; after all, Joohyun was once a defiant bitch. Nothing of this is left as she ecstatically welcomes you inside, dopamine flushing her brain, passion in the way she moans, laughs when you bottom out.

"Daddy!"

"Squeeze tight, Joohyun. I need you to make me cum as often as you can and keep it all down, so you better be the tightest girl ever tonight."

"I'm Daddy's tight girl, just breed me and I'll not lose any of your seed."

"Stick your tongue out."

Joohyun does as told and you let some of your saliva spill out onto your tongue before it oozes down to her. You always found her cock drunk expression thrilling, this one probably being its greatest form when you start to thrust into her as she still tries to catch your gift.

She pouts, as your saliva misses her just a bit and drips on her body. 

"If they saw you now—Irene, everyone's ice queen—reduced to nothing but my personal whore, a Daddy and Master kink too? Some people think you're a bitch in how you behave and treat others. They are right in a way, aren't they darling? 

“You are my bitch.”

"Ma-Master, you are right," Joohyun moans, her response interrupted by ragged breaths. "I-I'm your bitch, a bitch in heat. Do-do you like the hot pussy of this ice slave?"

Has she always been this humorous? A circle around her clit, just a rub, and her eyes are wide open. Joohyun looks so different in bed, a different kind of gorgeous from her stage presence during songs with the velvet-concept. You appreciate both, but this is clearly your favorite.

"Good that it's still tight," you groan and pound her harder. "I bottomed out a thousand times and still your grip is... fuck."

"Yes, Master, please praise my pussy more!"

"Isn't this enough praise, bitch?" you say in rhythm to slower but significantly harder thrust, the type to make inexperienced girls limp and screaming. Not Joohyun, she takes it well, though her voice still breaks at the rough pleasure forced upon her needy sex.

Joohyun stretches her arms out, holds onto the frame of the bed while you force her feet further apart and higher in the air. She looks stupid, an embarrassing position for an idol of her class to be in. 

"Yes, Master!" she suddenly howls when your finger presses into the flesh of her thighs. "I don't want to dance anymore, make me unable to dance!"

"When I'm fucking done with you, don't even think about getting out of bed." You lean down to her sweaty, burning face and nibble at her jaw. "Don't move on your own before I've filled your entire womb!"

"Yes, Master.” Joohyun struggles to catch her breath, her words somewhere up in the air along with your face deliberately drooling down on her. “It's time isn't it? Please make me pregnant. I've been waiting for so long, Master, I've been patient and good—" 

"In due time, Joohyun, but you will take it all the way in your womb until you're dripping and spilling seed everywhere. One day.” Your promise is sincere, partially because Joohyun’s rippling pussy has your voice a bit strained. Rejecting her would be pointless, really, her pussy could just will you in and if she’s really not taking contraceptives— 

“I've heard your contracts are up in the air. Are you really going to throw it all away for your Master?"

Joohyun puckers her lips for you to kiss, barely able to squeeze out words through them and her forced out moans.

"Yes, M-Master! I don't care about the contracts, I only want your child."

"Then show me that cute little face," you say, teasingly leaning down to her lips searching for yours but not getting them. "The one you make when you cum on my cock like the good slut I trained you to be."

Joohyun is almost at that point of peak devotion, where she can almost will herself to an orgasm just from your command, but it's still too many almosts. You still have to lay a hand on her clit, the other on her waist and move both your hips and hands in quick, stimulating fashion until Joohyun squeaks like it's her first time in your bedroom. 

The night you tamed her, many, many moons ago, was a great achievement, because you know she would still be drop dead gorgeous when you decide to do this to her. Without giving Joohyun any signs of your imminent orgasm, you cream her the moment the pleasure over takes her. 

Her cute expression of bliss and submission to your superior frame is flooded with ecstasy and pride when you flood her cavern and womb with a thick load that is meant to stick inside her and eventually form a baby. Joohyun frantically holds onto your arms stabilizing her ever twitching body, her glassy eyes looking at you in reverence and servility. 

"Th-thank you, Master," she whispers, her face and chest flushed with happiness, both a bit puffed from pride and soreness as her walls still milk you. "It feels so warm."

"I know what you're feeling," you coo into her ear and feel her burn up even more. "Finally, no condom, no contraceptive, nothing blocking my seed from blooming in your tight tummy. Every orgasm before this pales in comparison, because this one was real.

"So I'm giving you more."

"Ma-Master, I don't deserv—ahh!"

You put every vampire to shame when you furiously bite down on a pale sweet spot between Joohyun's neck and shoulder. Unlike vampires however, the faint taste of blood pulls you back to reality, that it's better to just fuck Joohyun's cum-filled cunt deeper than getting your teeth into her deeper. Nonetheless, the euphoric girl has both arms around you and tightly clings to you.

"Ma-Master," she cries out. "I ca-can't take it any-anymore."

"Don't care," you growl, empathy foreign to you. "I don't care if your pretty feet or legs or hips go numb. You'll take my cock until I want to stop."

You glare at her, eyelids hiding sniveling, tears begging for mercy as once again, overstimulation breaks her. What a weakness to still have. It’s part of Joohyun, sure, but you thought she would’ve grown past it, especially for this moment.

"You wanted this Joohyun. You wanted Master to breed you. You begged for it, don't you fucking bitch to me now. Did I make a mistake in choosing you? Are you really ready to give up your idol career if you can't handle me like this?" 

Every word sliced into her. It's been ages since you broke her down like this, not just physically and sexually, but verbally. It was like she was your trainee all over again, a dominant, crushing hand on her throat, an unrelenting pelvis crashing down on hers.

"I will fuck you for however long I want..." 

You pause for a moment and choke her even harder. 

"Suzy can take it. Why can't you?"

"I can, Daddy!” Joohyun screams, finally fighting for herself against herself. “Make me a baby mommy, don't listen to my stupid mouth. You, you own this pussy!"

Feel Joohyun's pussy struggle to take all the cock and cum when you fold her to a painful degree and watch her face become just a canvas for tears. It's also red, like her bleeding shoulder or her round butt which you spank over and over again, red like her sore pussy lips or her insides. 

"Good thing that you're still tight," you scold Joohyun and spit at her face. "At least your pussy is trying to make your real dream come true."

"Master, I'm cumming."

"Shut up. I don’t care. Put your own fingers around your throat. Spread your pussy lips. Look at me, while I destroy you.

"While I end your career, Irene."

A second load, pumped and mixed into the first and ultimately overflowing from Joohyun's gaping hole. The moment you pull out, she knows that this will be it. She is going to be pregnant, no way around it.

You gently cup her face, look at an expression of bewilderment, hurt, happiness, sadness, pain, confusion. Not the first time that you've destroyed a young woman like this while making her pregnant. A kiss to ease the pain a bit, she thinks, but it's just a set up for a reality check.

"I'm a bit disappointed," you tell her. "I needed your full devotion, but it seems you have forgotten how to take a second load.

"That said, I don't regret it. You're beautiful and ready. I think your group deserves one more comeback, then you can tell them what happened."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"You can stop choking yourself, by the way."

"Yes, Daddy. I-I love you."

[sweet-as-an-angel]

It would be disasterous when Yan!DILF finds out his darling is a virgin and doesn't have any romantic expirience

Yandere DILF! Reaction To You Being A Virgin

Warnings: Fetishisation of Virginity, Fetishisation of Innocence, Brief Descriptions of Smut, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger Reader, Implied Infidelity, Mention of a Step-Father Fetish, Mention of Rough Sex, Mention of Gentle Sex, Brief Implication of a Daddy Kink, Brief Implication of a Sir Kink, Brief Implication of a Master Kink, Exhibitionism, Implied Surveillance, Implications of Smut, Implied Masturbation, Mention of Murder, Delusion, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Yandere Behaviour, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

♡ Honestly, above all else, he’s astonished. Impressed, even. ♡ How could you, apple of his eye, light of his life, the beauty to his beholder, be…untouched? Entirely ‘unsullied’ by the touch of a man aside from him? ♡ His fascination starts off as an ‘innocent’ ponderance. Something he uses to fill his time while at work, with his family, sleeping beside his wife, etc. ♡ Then, his fascination gave way to fantasies. ♡ His fetishisation of your ‘purity’.

♡ His delusions breathed life into this new concept of you. ♡ At first, it’s nothing but wonderment. Foreplay at the most. ♡ When If the eventuality possibility of him being your first and last would occur. ♡ Where it would happen, the circumstances. ♡ Would it be when you were alone with him, while his wife performed some menial errand and his children were at school, no-one to save you from his palpable, throbbing, insatiable appetite? ♡ Or would it be upstairs, in your bedroom, the rocking of your headboard against the wall just gentle enough to avoid the suspicion of your family and his burdens as they gathered in the kitchen for dinner? ♡ Or, his personal favourite, at a picnic, in broad daylight, with you tugging at his sleeve, telling him that you “Feel strange…Need you to make me feel better,” giving him the perfect alibi to ‘take you into the forest for some fresh air’ only to knock that same air out of your lungs as he holds you at the waist, your legs wrapped around his middle, wet and red and breathless and his. ♡ Then, he begins to wander into the specifics. ♡ Would it be slow, tender, gentle? With all the love and worship you deserve – all the adoration he’s harboured for you spilling into you, his mouth at your ear, calling you his ‘good girl’ or his ‘good boy’. ♡ Or would it be ravenous and rough? Fuelled by Dominic’s scolding, his tone seething and sibilant as he chides you for seducing an older, married man. ♡ His thoughts are almost too much to handle, pushing him to the brink of insanity. ♡ So much so that he can’t control himself anymore. ♡ Long story short, a particularly vivid idea of you sitting under his desk, hands sliding up his thighs, eyes wide and mouth willing, left him in a position he’d rather not be caught in. ♡ So much so that he’s had to learn from his past transgressions and brings an extra suit to work to hide the outcome of his vivacious daydreams. ♡ Only bringing a fresh change of pants would look suspicious to his employees. He has to maintain the illusion that he’s fully satisfied by all his wife can give him – that he’d never resort to blatant exhibitionism to satisfy himself. ♡ What would you call him? Would you cry, moan, gasp as you said it? ♡ He shudders at the possibilities. ♡ Daddy, Sir, Master… ♡ Or, the most alluring of all, Dominic. To call him by a name he’s possessed all his life but has never found it as beautiful as when uttered by you. ♡ Sure, his inferiors call him Sir; his wife calls him “Dom.” But from you…It’s intimate. Loving. ♡ He’s sure he can hear your breath hitch, see your pupils expand whenever you say it – whenever you look up into his eyes. ♡ Soon, his delusions become visceral. ♡ How can he make it happen? How does he make the reality of you standing in his wife’s stead feasible? ♡ He wonders what you’re into – what little secrets you have tucked away in your search history, in the literature you consume, in the confines of your bedroom drawers. ♡ Whatever it is, he’ll move heaven and earth to accommodate you.

♡ You want a step-daddy? He’ll kill your dad and fuck your mother if that’s what it takes to get you off, to make you consider, even for a second, him as an option. ♡ Honestly, he’s thought about it. ♡ He feels nothing for either of your parents. Not even contempt. But for you, he can (and will) endure unfathomable evils. Even enter another loveless, grey marriage if just to get closer to you. ♡ He could lavish gifts on you without suspicion, be trusted to be alone with you without being regarded with caution, be able to touch you — feel you — without consequence. ♡ But alas, if you did harbour such fetishes, you’ve hidden them in a place he can’t access them. ♡ For now. ♡ Until he can install spyware onto your laptop, until he can rifle through your drawers and find whatever instrument you use to provoke euphoria, until he can read the filth dripping from the pages of your most sacred novel, he’s just about satiated with late-night sessions with his wife, pounding her into the pillows, the mattress, imagining you in her place. Imagining your nails dragging down his back, your fingers tangled in his hair, your voice begging for him.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Purely smut/suggestive content, Mentions of various kinks/sexual fantasies 

Summary: My thoughts about how Miguel acts during sex!

Word Count: 1.2K (slightly edited)

Miguel is, obviously, an absolute BEAST in bed. He’s instantly hitting all the right spots and he is not stopping until you're both so overstimulated that neither of you have a single coherent thought. There were numerous instances where he fucked you until you passed out. 

Miguel 100% has a size kink. He’s constantly getting off at the thought of how small you are in comparison to him. It’s so easy for him to overpower you, in any situation. You’re at his complete mercy and it’s his ultimate goal to make you feel smaller than you already are. 

Adding on to the size kink, he loves watching your skin bulge. It feeds his ego more than anything else can. He loves seeing the skin of your throat and stomach rise and fall with his movements. He’s instantly putting pressure on it, increasing the pleasure for the both of you.

If you’re especially small, (around 5’1 and under), he goes absolutely FERAL at the fact that his cock does not fit inside you. He has an inch or two of his dick that you can never take due to the sheer size of him. No matter how much he preps you or what position you’re in, it just refuses to enter you. You used to be embarrassed by it, but seeing how much Miguel loves it has made you more comfortable about it. 

This man is all about praise and degradation. He loves telling you how well you take him or how pretty you look when you’re under him or on your knees. But every now and then he’s mocking you as you choke around him or get too overstimulated. Degradation plays a big role in his dirty talk if he’s stressed or angry. 

Despite his authoritative role as the head of the Spider Society, Miguel doesn’t really like being called things like “daddy”, “sir", or “master” in the bedroom. He’d much rather hear you screaming out his name than any title. 

But, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t use names with you. He constantly refers to you as “his pretty/good boy/girl”, Spanish terms of endearments, and even the occasional “slut’ or “his poor little thing”. Referring to you as “his personal fuck toy” is a pet name too, right?

This man loves mutual masturbation, or even just watching you please yourself. If he walks in on you pleasuring yourself, let it be with toys or with your own hands, he’s finding the closest seat to sit down and watch or to jerk off to the pretty little sight along with your soft noises. 

There were even times where he’d call you, begging you to turn on your camera and touch yourself simply because he missed you so much or because he knows he won’t be home to play with you himself. He has to have Lyla deny all access to his office because he’ll be damned if anyone else got to see you like this.

Phone sex is a big must if he hasn’t seen you in a while due to you being on a mission or living in a different dimension. He’s always counting down the seconds until he gets to call you. But, if you two don’t have the time to call, he’s begging you to send videos, pictures, audios, anything to get him by until he can fuck you in person. 

Miguel is into katoptronophilia, or mirror sex. Not because he likes to watch himself, but because he likes to watch you. He constantly needs to see the pretty faces you make when he’s inside you. He wants to be able to see everything, the way your body recoils with each thrust, the shape your mouth makes when you let out your beautiful noises, the way your skin is shiny with sweat, and most importantly the way you have your eyes on him. You need to watch him as much as he needs to watch you. It drives him crazy and he likes to know he has your complete attention. 

Miguel is all about breeding (if you’re afab!). Even if you can’t get pregnant because of birth control or simply because you’re infertile, he’s constantly grunting into your ear how he’s going to fill your tight cunt with his cum and how he can’t wait for your stomach to grow with his baby. He’s not stopping until you’re pumped full of his release and it’s dripping out of you. If you’re amab!, he’s whispering into your ear how good you would be with kids if you were to adopt one as he fucks you. He’s basically using sex to fuck you stupid and trying to convince you to adopt a kid with him, but he’s still filling you to the brim with cum, nonetheless. 

Miguel isn’t the biggest fan of exhibitionism. But that’s only because he’s protective of you and doesn’t want anyone to see what’s meant for his eyes only. That being said, he doesn’t mind it if someone happens to overhear your moans and whines if they were to walk by his office. He’ll gladly fuck you in a dark hallway, storage closet, bathroom, or in his office. But if he does, it’s because he knows no one can walk in to see your naked body and if the door locks, it’s being locked. But he is walking out with a cocky smile knowing everyone heard your screams and can visibly see the hickeys he left on your skin. 

Marking! He loves marking you. He’s sucking any exposed skin and covering it with kisses and bruises. He loves seeing the fading bruises on your thighs and waist from previous fucking sessions and it’s his own form of entertainment to see you stressing about how to cover the hickeys and bite marks on your neck or any other visible skin in the morning. He purposely hides any of your high collared clothes or scarfs because he wants people to know that you’re his. 

He loves biting you, and not solely because it leaves marks on your soft skin. He loves injecting his venom into you and leaving you paralyzed. He loves that he can (with your permission) have his way with you. You’re completely helpless and he fucks you into oblivion, only letting you let out pretty noises and earth-shattering orgasms. 

Best believe Miguel is pussy/dick whipped. He’s constantly begging you to let him shove his head between your legs for a taste. It brings him so much comfort feasting in between your legs and feeling you cum in his mouth. He loves it so much that he has to get your consent to do it even when you’re asleep. He just gets the urge to do it sometimes and he can’t help it. It physically pains him when he can’t do it because he’s away at work or if you gently tell him no because you’re busy :(

Miguel is all about aftercare. He knows how rough he can be, so he makes it his first priority after fucking you silly to get you a glass of water and bringing you to the bathroom to pee and take a bath. He’s whispering how good you were and asking if you’re hurt or sore anywhere. He apologizes once or twice if it's your guys' first time or if it was particularly rough that time around. Afterward, he’s taking you to bed and snuggling you to him as you doze off to sleep. Or, he watches you sleep for an hour or two while whispering how much he loves you until he falls asleep, too.

I am 100% going to make separate images for some of these headcanons (especially the mirror one) because they are just AAAAAA!! They need to be brought into existence!! Feel free to recommend ones you want to see in more detail!

[sook9i]

— SAY MY NAME

⋆｡°✩ nicknames TXT likes in the bedroom

. . . GENRE ! TXT x gn!reader | separate headcanons

. . . CONTAINS ! sir/daddy/master kink, dom!txt, yj - mean(?) dom, degradation (whore, cockwhore, slut), hair pulling, begging; sb - mentions of dollification & size kink, reader is dressed in skirts, reader is called bunny; bg - mean dom, degradation (whore), slapping, implied doggy(?); th - kinda mean dom, pet play (collars, ears, etc.), reader called pet and kitten; hk - reader called angel, baby, & pretty, implied fingering & overstimulation

. . . NOTES ! heyyyyyyyyy so um here ya go, sorry for disappearing it'll happen again

. . . ADMIN ! written by callie 😽

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YEONJUN - wc ! 212

Split pretty evenly between sir and daddy. Most of the time, depending on the circumstances, a simple “junnie” or “baby” will suffice. Other times, however, especially when he’s feeling cocky or frustrated or jealous, it’s not enough. Yeonjun is naturally pretty teasing and likely to sprinkle in degradation into his talking. Not necessarily mean or hard, just simply dominating. The times when explicit dynamics are in order often come about from Yeonjun practically breaking you down until you say it first. Denying you over and over until you’re a slobbering mess of begging “Please sir-pl-please please-hic-wan’ your cock sir-please.”

“Oh? So now the little whore wants to start respecting me?” His grip tightens on your scalp, lighting pain across the skin. An obviously fake frown stretches on his face, “Poor, helpless little slut. Should’ve listened when I told you to stop messing around. But you’re just a stupid needy cockwhore, aren’t you? Can’t stand ten minutes without sir’s cock in your mouth, huh? Pathetic.”

His sneer drives swaths of heat between your thighs and more tears welling in your eyes. “P-please sir, i’m-im so-sorry-sob-sh-should’ve done what s-sir said. Plea-please, just-just wan’ you so bad.”

“Well then.” He hands yanks your head right up to his, “Shut up and get on your knees.”

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SOOBIN - wc ! 436

To pair well with both his size kink and interest in dollification, Soobin is not opposed to being called Daddy. He’s quite fond of things more in the realm of nicknames: binnie, bin, or even just Soobin. However, there’s something so heavy in the name Daddy that Soobin truly cannot resist. Putting all of your trust in his hands, his to mold and care for and use. He simply can’t help but take all of the control you give him. Dressing you up and posing you. All ruffles and short skirts; perfect pinks and whites, a pure picture of innocence. In these moments, you’re all his to ruin.

Poised upon the bed like a porcelain doll, framed in voluminous skirts and petticoats spreading out beside you like wings. Soobin’s long fingers drag their way up along your calf. Slowly coming to rest in the middle of your thigh, running a nail beneath the tight elastic of your stocking. The sharp snap on your skin shocks a cold gasp from your throat. Shuddering, eyes shut tight as Soobin’s nose trails quickly behind the rest. Coming to a stop, faced with the guarded walls of all your layers of clothes, he finally looked up at you. You could barely look back, eyes screwed tight.

“Aww, poor bunny is trembling.”

It takes everything in you to suppress the high and needy whimper building in your throat. The muffled sound peaks with a hard clenching between your thighs which are quickly pulled apart. Soobin’s palms pressed into the plush, rubbing soft circles into the skin; his fingertips so close to the ache between your legs, it dragged out another pathetic whine.

Eyes clenched even tighter, fists curled at your sides; It spills through your lips before you can stop it. “D-daddy, please-just-please-hnng.” Hips canting upwards, held back by his grip.

Soobin’s smirk grows impossibly smug, gleaning up at you as he presses your hips firmly into the mattress. Hands slipping from your thighs, pushing at the mountains of lace keeping him away. His eyes devour the depraved sight between your thighs, a deeper hunger growing in them. Fingernails digging into the flesh beside his head, more and more whimpers coming from you as his lips and teeth clash so close to where you need him. A hand twirled tight around his hair and a sharp tug on it all, his own neediness is catching up to him.

With a shudder and darkening eye; he always gets lost in the rush of power, your sweet submission, the moment he says, “Come on, Bunny. Beg for Daddy, and he’ll let you cum.”

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BEOMGYU - wc ! 251

Daddy but in a mean way. Beomgyu definitely has his soft dom moments, but with such a big thing for humiliation, they’re somewhat few and far between. He takes pride in his power over you; even when you act out, the power to put you back in your place is the most satisfying. Stripping you of your clothes and attitude; knocking you down a few pegs and face-first into his mattress. Chewing up your ego and spitting it back down your needy, begging, throat. That was perhaps his favorite part of it all. Making you so submissive, an absolute mess with the graze of his fingertips. Hips swiveling in the air, ass seared with hand prints and the deep crescents of digging fingernails. Your muffled cries were music to his ears; words muddled in pathetic slobbering.

“B-Beom-ah!” Another harsh sting ripples along your skin and tears a whining squeal from your throat. Paired with the fingers tugging you up by your hair, pain overwhelmed your senses.

His words send that burning pain back into unbearable heat between your legs. “Come on, baby. You know that’s not my name.” The grin on his lips is audible, though there’s nothing left in you to protest.

All resolve gone, you’re left to desperate groveling. “Daddy! Daddy, please, I’m sorry! Please-hic-just…fuck me, please.” Your words trail off, meak and measly, no match for the degrading laughter that follows.

“God, you’re such a dumb fucking whore. Cry a little louder, baby, and maybe Daddy will listen.”

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TAEHYUN - wc ! 279

another healthy mix of sir and daddy, with a little master mixed in sometimes. He likes to explore various dynamics, and thus, different names. Pet play is his newest experiment. The first time he saw you in between his knees, neck wrapped all pretty in a collar, he almost came on the spot. Tucking his fingers between the tight leather and your skin, tugging hard as you struggle to keep quiet. Pets aren’t supposed to talk, and he loves to remind you of that. If any word slips past your lips apart from his name, you can expect to end up with bruised knees and a sore throat.

Whining out a pitiful, “Please!”

The pain of carpet rubbing hard onto your skin is only outweighed by the harsh grip on the back of your neck. Tilting your head up to get a perfect view of your watery gaze.

Taehyun’s eyes are heavily lidded; foggy and dark as they rake over your face, pausing on the faux ears adorning your head. His grip tightens as the bells along your outfit jingle. “Kittens don’t talk. Or did you forget?”

Your heartbeat races and your core aches, teary eyes meeting his. “N-no, Master. I-”

His gaze is pointed, daring you to finish your sentence. A heated shudder settles in your stomach. “No, Master.”

“Good pet.” A thumb strokes softly on your chin, yet Taehyun’s face remains hard. “You know I still have to punish you, kitten.”

“Y-yes, Master.”

Fingers slip back down to your neck before yanking on your collar, knocking the breath from your lungs. Biting out the words, “Then shut up and open your mouth. Master’s gonna fuck your throat.”

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

HUENINGKAI - wc ! 290

To Kai, the act of dominance, having you submit to him completely, is more about how he takes care of you every step of the way. Sure, there are certainly times he takes more focus on himself. He’s glad to have a partner so accepting of his selfishness at times. However, being the youngest, he’s used to the babying treatment; even playing into it at times. With you, he gets to play the caretaker instead.

You never have to do any thinking with him, and, even if you wanted to, he’ll have you going dumb soon enough that won’t really matter. Having you take his fingers over and over again; stretching you out and licking up your mess before he even takes his own clothes off. Maybe you aren’t the only dumb one. With the way he gets lost in your lovely sounds, he just has to go back for another taste.

Cooing at your over-sensitive whines, shushing your soft cries, kissing away your sweet tears, “So good for me-ahh-pretty baby.”

Hands cradled softly in his, mingling on the mattress to keep you grounded as Kai’s hips take up more space inbetween yours. He presses your thighs up with his own, cock running teasingly along the inside.

“Daddy-” Mind numbed-out and drool slipping past your lips, your words come out as no more but a muddled plea.

“I know, baby.” His breath falls short watching your eyes screw shut, “‘m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Your fingers curl tighter in his. “Wan’-wan’ it, please-”

“Want daddy to make you cum, angel?”

He can’t stop his small giggle as you desperately nod and slobber out incoherent agreements. “Whatever you want. Let daddy take care of you, baby.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Sweet Tooth Deluxe

Summary: Ari teaches you a much needed lesson about ignoring him. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Pussy Spanking, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @daykrisr999 and @curls-and-eyeliner. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Jesus, God you’d been at this for hours.

“Omigodfuck!” You sob, shoving your face into your lavender comforter. When Ari had promised to make your “pussy cry”, you hadn’t imagined he meant it like this. “Goddamn, Daddy. Please!” 

Well, fuck. While you’d also never called a man Daddy before, that name had already slipped from your lips several times tonight.

“That’s right, sweet Bird.” Ari snarls as he fucks you, his hips snapping wildly second after second. “You do need a Sir. You do need a Daddy. It’s about time you fuckin’ realize.”

“Uh huh!” 

“I should spank this juicy ass every day.” His hand comes down hard, making you cry out. It wasn’t the first time either. You were gonna be so sore come tomorrow morning.  

“Yes! Omigod, you should!” You bite the comforter, loving the way your man is so easily mastering your body. You’d earned this. You’d deserved this. 

Yes, Sir. Yes, Daddy. More, please.

You feel a large hand gently grasp your throat, forcing you to pull away from the blankets. “Wake the fuck up, sweet Bird. Watch how good I’m fuckin’ you. Tell me how good it feels.” A soft whine escapes when he licks the side of your face. 

He was marking you in this moment. Reminding you that you belonged to him. 

“I’m sorry!” You wail, loving the sound of wet flesh slapping against your own. You were so turned on, your body so needy. Shit, you could hardly stand it.

“We ain’t done, greedy girl.” Ari repositions you then, fisting a hand in your hair so that you can finally get a good look at yourself in your brand new floor length mirror. The same one he’d purchased for you for moments like these.

You look so well fucked that you hardly recognize yourself. Ari flashes a feral grin at the sight of your reflection, loving the way you moan for him when he adjusts the angle of his hips.

How dare you withhold your affection? Your attention? All because he’d accidentally eaten the wrong pie? Well, he’d show you.

“”Today.” He grunts, nibbling at your neck as he reaches around to lightly strum your clit. “You’re gonna learn how to talk to your man when he makes a mistake.” His palm slaps your wet cunt for good measure, the sound echoing throughout the room.

“Please!” 

"Say the words, brat! Before I bruise that ass!"

He bears down, increasing the already brutal pace. Fucking you harder. Oh God, this man was gonna be the death of you.

"Ohshit! Ungh!" You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. "Daddy please fuck me!"

Ari adjusts his rhythm, purposely slowing himself down. He had a lesson to teach, after all. And if he was meant to learn a lesson, then so were you. 

One shattering orgasm at a time.

END

Unofficial Tag List

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[livingindabisribcage]

Shigaraki NSFW Headcanons

Cause he makes me so insatiabley horny

Warning: nsfw obviously

This is the horniest fucker to ever exist, but he is a virgin until you

like it's bad, he's watched so much porn , he genuinely had an addiction

so when you two start getting sexual, expect a couple things

1. he doesn't last very long. however, he does regain his stamina pretty quickly so you can get back at it pretty soon.

2. he has no experience, so he's gonna try and use the weird porn he's watched as a basis - which he realizes very soon does not work

so after a few times of him kinda embarrassing himself, he goes full 180 and becomes a nervous mess

so for a while, you'll have to be in control. maybe not physically unless you want to be, but you'll have to guide him and very much show him exactly what he's supposed to do

consider: he loves you. yes he's a horny fuck, but he's also scared of people coming close to him, he's scared of vulnerability, and this feels very vulnerable. so he trusts you, and he cares about you more than anything. he really wouldn't have sex with someone unless he genuinely cared about them

meaning: he wants to make you happy. he wants you to think he's doing a good job and for you to feel fucking amazing

so he takes everything you say very seriously, and once he gets more comfortable your sex life gets amazingly better

because beyond what youve told him you like, he pays attention to all the little noises and faces and body reactions so he knows what you like exactly and he takes advantage of that in every way

he slowly becomes more and more dominant, if you're dominant you'll probably fight for it often, but if you're submissive he happily takes control

he doesn't like not being in control, but he allowed it because he knew that it'd benefit the both of you, so now he wants to be completely in control to make up for it

his favorite position is probably doggy, but in front of a mirror. Tomura loves ass, he loves seeing your ass and being able to grab at it and spank it (and maybe play with the hole if he's not already in that one) but he also loves to see your face, to see you fall apart as he fucks you, so he'll grab your hair and force you to watch yourself in the mirror

he spends most of his time around the league, which means you do too. you're basically attached to his hip at all times, and tomura likes to show you off. which also means he loves making you scream his name all night so everyone knows what's going on

he'd also be very tempted to fuck you in front of everyone - it probably stems from being told he's ugly and scary looking his whole life but he's fucking someone as hot as you so he has to rub it in everyone's faces

during a meeting, where you know he has a little makeshift throne, he's definitely had his cock buried in you while you sit on his lap, squirming around trying to get any stimulation you can, him lazily thrusting into you every now and then

his ability to regain stamina quick only gets worse once he goes through his whole buff transformation, you're getting railed for literal hours

he loves overstimulating you, he wants you to beg to cum and tell him it's too much and that you're gonna die if he doesnt stop, but keep letting him fuck you

at first, the thought of toys made him kinda insecure, but after impulsively buying you a dildo he loves it. whether it's shoving it in both of your holes, or him fucking your mouth while you fuck yourself with it, he thinks it's so hot

his wallpaper is definitely a nude

he likes superiority kinks, probably not daddy, but being called Master, or Sir, he gets so hard

his dick is long too, like 8 inches, but it's a little thin. he has scrawny man dick syndrome. it does get a little thicker when he gets buffer though

hes a sadist, so he'll put you through as much pain and humiliation as you can handle. he'll spank your ass red, yank your hair so hard you think he'll rip it out, bite you till you bleed, hell he'll even pull your panties over your head while he fucks you just to humiliate you (side note- he definitely has a wedgie kink)

if you're more vanilla (no shame), then he'll respect that. again, he loves you and it's more so about you, so he'd keep his fantasies to himself.

[kennedyslvr]

Hey bby!! Could u do smut but its vendetta leon x a goth reader??? I mean like, romantic goth?? I was thinking him n the reader experimenting with new kinks??? Idk

warnings: nsfw, m.reader, age gap!!! (leon is late 30s reader is early 20s), choking, pain play, mean leon :(, daddy/master/sir kink, marking and bruising, aftercare!!

word count: 1079

note: this was so sweet to write ty anon!!

—

“leon, can we talk for a second?” leon placed his beer bottle down before turning away from his computer to face you, he gave you a gentle smile before beckoning you to his lap. you happily sat on his lap, he noticed that you were holding his journal. ah shit. “don’t get mad but…i read through your journal and…do you really wanna try that impact stuff with me?” he stared at you blankly before letting out an airy laugh, “let an old man have his fantasies, geez kid.” you felt his leg start to bounce making you giggle, it’s not like you weren’t flattered at the long paragraphs written about all the different ways he wanted to hurt sexually you. “tell you what mr. kennedy, i’ll let you try out the whole impact play shit you’ve written about me. that’d be pretty fun hm?” leon instantly perked up at your words, he was instantly intrigued. “babe…have you read it? i feel like you should-“ “i’m a grown man, i know what i want. and what i want is you, leon.” time for prepping!

you and leon went through everything you needed to before starting, safewords, nonverbal cues, what to do and not to do. he was very cautious since he could easily get caught up in what he was doing, he just wanted to keep you safe. “again, baby, if you want to change your mind now you can, i promise i won’t be mad.” you placed your hand on his cheek before peppering his face in your black lipstick, “it’s okay leon, i promise. i know what to do if it ever gets too much.”

IMPACT PLAY + DEGRADATION

‘i want to hurt him, i know it sounds bad but the thought of hurting him and leaving bruises on him makes my cock throb. i want to see him cry from all the pain and the names i call him. i want to see him bruised up and wanting for me, i couldn’t possibly tell him this though. he would definitely think i’m a fucking creep.’

smack.

you let out a pained cry as his hand came in contact with your soft cheeks again, you couldn’t focus on anything but the pain he gave you. your face was burning and your thighs were scarred and bruised, everything hurts on your body but it feels so good. “how many?” what? how many? “h-huh?” you looked up at him confused, what the hell did he mean how many? “how many times have you been hit today, hm?” you we’re trying to remember, you were trying your very best. you couldn’t focus with him staring daggers into you, you squirmed in discomfort. “…i-i don’t know…” leon looked annoyed and frustrated, you looked down ashamed with yourself. “i-i’m sorry! i’ll try to remember-“

smack.

you fell over holding onto your cheek, he continued to hit the back of your thighs and ass with a riding crop. you tried to crawl away from him, only to feel his hand push the back of your neck down, effectively locking you down. he placed his knee on your lower back and applied only a little bit of pressure, you wiggled under his weight. “don’t try to run away, slut. you wanted this, and i’m going to give it to you.” you whimpered at the harshness of his voice, he yanked you on your back to see your face covered in tears. he smiled at his hand work, his eyes trailed down to your hardened cock that was wet with your precum. “aw look at your pathetic cock, want me to touch it? want me to make you feel good?” you nodded frantically, raising your hips to feel any type of friction on your sensitive cock. “pl-please i’ll be go-good. i’ll be s-so good! just j-just make me cum please…pleaseee…?” he thought for a moment before taking the tool in his hands and dragging it across your twitching cock, you groaned in discomfort, you just wanted to cum and he was being so mean to you.

“here the deal, im not gonna touch your slutty cock. so i’ll just use my favorite toy on you, you don’t even deserve my touch.” “w-wait no! d-don’t use-“ you let out a loud cry of desperation and pain as he started to smack your cock around, aiming directly for your wet tip. each hit sent painful shocks throughout your body, but it somehow still felt so good. you quickly felt yourself nearing your orgasm, “puh-pleaaasee can i cum? please please please?” you grabbed onto his shirt desperate for his approval, you wanted to cum on his terms. “tch, desperate slut.” he used the tip of the tool to quickly run against your sensitive tip, you arched your back at the sudden action while letting out a loud shriek.

“what do you say when daddy gives you what you want, hm? don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.” you felt his hand grab onto your throat, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. “th-th-thank you d-daddy- mph- i-im cumming thank you!l” his grip on your throat didn’t falter, it only got tighter as your orgasming hit you full force. you grabbed onto his forearm trying to gasp for air, your back was stuck in a permanent curve, your toes curled, your cock jumped with each rope of cum that spilled out of it. you couldn’t breathe but the orgasm made up for it, your eyes were rolled back as you slowly started to fade. “baby, look at me, are you alright?” you we’re tired, your body ached, and your throat was killing you. you could only manage to nod at his question while giving him a small smile, he returned the smile before picking you up bridal style and walking to the bathroom.

“gonna get you nice and clean up okay?” you nodded, he never let go of you during the cleaning process. keeping your hand firmly in his, gently washing the sweat and sore spots of your body, kissing places that you winced at. when it was finally time for bed he dressed you himself, tossing you in one of his shirts and wrapping you in a giant blanket burrito. “you did so good for me, such a good boy.” your face warmed at the praise, he kept you firm against his chest before you felt the warm of sleep taking you over. “so cute, good night lovely.”

[youn9racha]

ASMR

genre: smut—headcanon

words: 740

warning: auralism, mentions of voice kink, roleplay, s/d dynamics, potential hard kinks, masturbation, switch!felix, handjobs, mentions of daddy/sir/master kink, pornography plays a big role in this headcanon.

a/n: finally,,, i've been meaning to make one of felix a long time ago (i'm talking since before my undisclosed hiatus has taken over) but i just kept on procrastinating, but here i am now, pushing myself, but i do hope this doesn't seem forced. if it did, well then... i'm sorry? ig, but thats neither here or there. i hope you all enjoy it, and feedback is greatly appreciated.

Click here for recommended asmrs:

chan — felix — hyunjin — han — i.n — changbin — lee know — seungmin

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

When he is single:

Felix was definitely born to become an asmr artist, or however you want to call it. if it were up to him, he'd definitely consider it as an art form, acting even.

He definitely uses his deep voice and accent to his advantage in many scenarios.

He doesn't just strictly do nsfw work though, he also does the occasional sfw content. (but he definitely knows that his audience is fed by lust).

He uses multiple media, but he's mostly on youtube for the sfw content, and for the nsfw stuff he's mainly on the hub and reddit.

He also has patreon for tips and requests and uses twitter to release a teaser or maybe releases some hot audios just on the whim to drive his audience crazy.

He also does occasional live streams on twitch for gaming and also maybe "unintentionally" seduce other streamers and his fans with his velvety voice.

Initially he wants to remain anonymous, but, unlike bang chan, seeing how much of an income he gets, and considering how unique his voice is, he really doesn't feel ashamed of himself to show himself off. (he could argue that it garnered more attention)

however, he doesn't post himself very often, so as to not take away his audience's fantasies.

now onto the content he creates:

Felix, like bang chan, is a man of generosity and often does what he asks of his audience

however, he is mostly known for his "boyfriend" series both in the sfw and nsfw realms.

In his youtube channel, you would see his content being very wholesome, seeing titles like "baking cookies with your australian boyfriend", "cuddling with your boyfriend after a stressful day", "positive affirmation from me to you", and many more. just overall, wholesome and comforting content.

however, his reddit and pornhub account juxtapose with his youtube channel.

He is mostly known for his deep-voiced moans and groans that come along with these scenarios

You'll also see him roleplay as deep voice character, pretending to be them for the sake of his audience, even down to altering his accent for the sake of it

just picture him cosplaying as ghost from call of duty... yeah, i'm going mental

Anyhow, he is also known for his words on these asmrs, regardless if he's aiming to be the dom, the sub, or the switch in these scenarios.

"oh, yes, who's a good girl for me?"

"oh, fuck, that pussy is tight for me~"

"yes, stroke that cock for daddy... just... like... that...mmh~"

"may i come for you? please, i-i've been such a good boy-ah!~"

Felix is known to have the most beautiful voice while getting pleasured, regardless of his position.

Despite having a deep voice, he is known to have many range, can create the most adorable sounds anyone could hear.

"please, baby... please let me come in you? i want to feel all of you...hmm~"

he truly could make anyone swoon with those adorable whimper.

He uses his hands and a fleshlight mostly, but does utilize lube and edits his audios to accentuate the wet sounds and to create ambience.

When he's in a relationship:

When you met Felix, you instantly knew what he does, but you never really ventured off into the nsfw content.

He had an amazing voice, just like those content he makes on youtube, he truly can match up with real life, almost making it seem like you were getting the full package.

however, when you found his nsfw account, you couldn't help but let your curiosity get the best of you and listen to them.

To say you were turned on would be an understatement.

Felix never really tried to hide that side of him, but it was just a matter of "i'll address it when it is mentioned" type of thing, and, although he was taken aback at first when you confronted him about it, he really didn't feel ashamed when you confronted him once he realizes that you enjoyed them.

You never really encouraged him to stop, and Felix never intended on stopping anytime soon, unlike chan.

You cheered him on, and often gave him ideas for certain scenarios.

He would from time to time uses you in his audios for the sake of "ambience" and lets your quiet moans melt through the audio, which surprisingly garnered positive reception.

So he proceeded with this endeavor and is in no way slowing down.

©︎ youn9racha— do not translate or repost in other medias.

[yearning-for-autumn]

Acotar Pet-names

A/N: I wanted to make a little headcanon on the pet-names I think the Acotar men would use for you, and want to be called (during sex or outside of it). This is using afab terminology but let me know if you want a gender neutral one, or one for amab pet names. This is just for me, and a bit of fun, feel free to put anymore you can think of in the comments!

Rhys -

For you: Darling, my darling, my love, lovely, pretty girl

For him: Darling, my love, daddy, most handsome high lord...

Cassian -

For you: Sweetheart, sweetie, baby, gorgeous

For him: Babe, Cass, baby, sir, (General..if he's in a particular mood)

Azriel -

For you: Baby, babygirl, princess, kitten, angel, bunny

For him: Daddy, Azzie (literally only you can call him this), babe

Eris -

For you: Love, my love, sweetheart, princess, puppy, beloved

For him: Eri (I also headcanon that some of his brothers shorten his name affectionately), love, lover, babe, daddy, master, sir

Lucien -

For you: Sweetie, honey, bunny, darling, sunshine

For him: Baby, darling, sweetheart, sir, pretty boy (if he's subbing)

Tamlin -

For you: Baby, pet, sweet girl, sweetheart, buttercup

For him: Babe, honey, my love, Tam, sir, my Lord...

[angelltheninth]

Y and jason Todd, for the dirty a-z head cannon game please! hope you’re doing well and are having a beautiful day!🩷

Thank you for the ask!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, nicknames, praise, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Jason Todd, sub!Reader

A/N: The letter is from this list in case anyone wants to send one.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?) 

Jason has a problem with authority, that's no secret to anyone who knows him. Of course you're aware of this too but the first time you called him Sir during sex he literally couldn't stop himself from coming all over you and still staying hard afterwards.

He really likes using nicknames like darling, doll, sweetcheeks when he's telling you what a good job your doing, having taken his cock so many times and you're still wanting more to the point where you're whimpering and on the verge of tears without it. That doesn't mean he doesn't use more degrading names for you too.

When he's inside you all the way so his cock can feel every flutter of your pussy walls he starts testing out names like slut, whore, toy, plaything, fucktoy, calling you a stupid cockhole and seeing how much you'll squeeze around him, or even better which one will make you orgasm on the spot.

After discovering the one that makes your toes curl he will whisper it in passing to get you super horny. You need to say, 'Yes, Sir' to his advances and he knows he can take things further, now or later when you're alone.

[l0serloki]

Nasty Time

Genshin NSFW Headcanons

(Tartaglia, Diluc, Kaeya, Thoma)

Genre : Smut

CW : Sex (duh), bdsm/ropes, degrading, sir/master/daddy kink, roleplaying, exhibitionism, praising, pure filth

- - - - - 

Tartaglia :

- I feel like he’s a switch but leans more towards being a top

- He’s such a cocky bastard and will tease you the whole time

- ‘Does baby wanna cum? Huh? What was that?’

- BDSM king, he wants to tie you up or be tied up

- He definitely is into degrading, doesn’t matter if it’s you or him 

- He will fuck you anywhere - he is always ready and has no shame

- He is so into roleplaying too, he loves switching it up

- You can call him anything from daddy to whore to sir, he is into it

“God baby, I can feel you squeezing me so hard.” Childe’s hands had wondered down and gripped your hips. You felt yourself getting closer and he sped up his pace. “I know you want to cum.. Be good for daddy.” 

Diluc :

- I feel like he’s more sensual of a partner but can get ticked off easily

- Jealous!Diluc… oh man.

- He’s the type to slap your ass and make you cum hard because you thought it would be smart to tease him

- Doesn’t mind you using master or sir in bed either (it totally turns him on when you say it)

- He will spoil you too, he wants to see his baby dressed up and lets you pick out the outfits you like

- He wants to paint you in his cum, please let him 

 Diluc had worked a long night. His shift at Angel’s Share had gone smoothly and he took care of the Hilichurl camp with ease. His bones ached and he was annoyed. Where were you? He had searched around the living room and came to the conclusion you must’ve gone to bed without him. He opened up the bedroom door and his eyes widened in surprise. 

“Oh Master Diluc, please help me.. I made a mess.” You were wearing a maids costume and bent over the bed, your fleshy ass just begging to be slapped. You could only moan when his gloved hand came down on your cheek. “Oh honey, I’ll help you alright..”

Kaeya :

- oh brother

- Is there a point where this man isn’t horny?

- He’s going to have a hand on you at all times no matter what

- He is a chest man, be prepared for him to bite and suck your nipples for hours

- He likes degrading and praising you

- “God you’re such a good little slut. Look at the way you take me..”

- I feel like he has a major daddy kink (fatherless behavior)

- He LOVES head and will ask for it a lot

Kaeya and you were currently locked in a broom closet while he fucked in and out of your hole. “Knew you wanted me. God, look at how messy you are Y/N. At least you know how to take my cock well.” Kaeya’s fingers shoveled into your mouth to muffle the sounds as the string inside you snapped. “Good. Count that as one, Daddy wants 3 more.”

Thoma :

- Little househusband king

- He loves pleasuring you and lives to see you cum

- Surprisingly, he really wants to fuck you in front of a mirror

- “But Y/N you should see your face when you cum! Those fucked out eyes of yours are so pretty..”

- He’s loud but they’re all whimpers

- Please praise him

- Mans has the BEST aftercare ever

- He brings you water and a towel and a warm blanket and kisses your forehead

Thoma’s face was beet red as he continued his ministrations. His hand held your head in place as you stared back into the long mirror. “You see that Y/N? That’s all mine. Look at how well you fell apart for me.” He grinned from behind as your eyes went blurry in pleasure. He knew exactly which buttons to push.

[master-xochimilli]

◇ About + DNI ◇

Currently: Offline

Welcome to my blog~ My name is Xochimilli, though I'm sure some of you would be eager to call me Master or Sir

A 21 year old genderqueer boygirl cat thing, It/He pronouns (yes capitalized :3)

My asks are always open, go ahead tell me anything, I love going aaaa and talking. Just be nice. Please don't just say "hi" or try to get me to e fuck you, I'm a person

If you cannot handle different time zones and the fact others have work and responsibilities don't even bother. Asks will not be answered right away, please take situation/time sensitive asks with a grain of salt.

Time Zone: GMT -6 • Mexico City

♡ Pet

My pet is the lovely @onetiredpup, or 🫀 puppy who I lovee and adore so so soooo much 💛 THE BOYFRIEND YIPPPEE YAYY HOORAYY :3 💛💛💛💛💛 A A AAAAAA AA AAAAAAA KISSING HIM KISSING HER HUGGING THEM SO TIGHTLY

◇Anon Pets◇

•🪐 • 🩻 • 🦇 • 🪲 • 🐻 • 🐼 • ⚰️ • 🌱 • doe • 🧜‍♀️ • 🫧 • 🌻 • 👑 • 🦦 • 🌌 • 🥺 • 🤍 • 🐾 • 🍰 • 🍑 • 🪣 • 👑🖤 • 🍊 • 🍤 • 🐈‍⬛ • 🪷 • 🐞 • 🐬 • 🌟 • 🏩

◇ DNI ◇

Minors and ageless blogs fuck off, I will block you.

Typical DNI, dont be a bitch to others. Raceplay, and ED blogs also dni, for personal reasons, I can and will block anyone I want to, this is my safe space.

I also just reccomend not to interact if you just want the horny!!! I will rb anything n everything I want <3

◇ Kinks ◇ Limits under cut ◇

Kinks◇

Petplay

Impact play

Soft Degradation + Praise

Bondage

Piss/Omo

Somno

Breeding

Pregnancy

Edging + Cum Denial

Free Use

CNC (emphasis on the consent)

Sub/Dom

Knifeplay

Intox (only alcohol)

Biting/Marking

Primal

Royalty play

Lactation/Milking

Blood

Cockwarming

Objectum

Pain/Physical Injury

Possesiveness

Gore (will not post of it maybeeeee perhaps)

Cannibalism (will not post of it maybeee perhaps)

I'm a bitch ass soft baby when being subby and bottoming, so feel free to ask beforehand about my limits!!!

Limits◇

Apart from what is included in the DNI, do not offer to include these. I either don't enjoy them personally or can't do/write for them

Use of the word "rape" in cnc (literally a fucking victim of it, me panicking and having flashbacks about over it will not be fun so stfu!!!)

Scat

Inflation

Ageplay

Raceplay

Brat taming (I am too soft for it)

Vomit

Size difference

AB/DL

Hypno

Sissy

Weight gain/Loss + Feederism

My puppy's good boy chart ♡

Good boy chart for my lovely puppyyyyy, my sweet boyfriend @onetiredpup 💛 So so sooo excited for using it with him !!!! Will update it as they get stickers :3 so everyone can see what a good boy she is~

based off @/droolypupboy's chart !!!!

◇ More:

I'm just queer, so it doesn't matter what you are it's gay if it includes me sexually. Because someone asked: I am kind of pretty sure I am monoamorous, I will engange in sexual play but no romantic stuff :3 -> Aro adjacent thing, heart is being weird about it, might be not fully aro. I have a boyfriebd. I have a boyfriend. Did I mention I have a boyfriend? I have a boyfriend and I love him I love my boyfriend with my whole being 💛 My boyfriend my beloved kissing her face right now actually because I love them and my blog is kinda obviously all about him lmao

Not a transman, I am genderqueer, please respect the queer part of it, no I am not justifying or explaining my gender to you.

I do enjoy being the top dom most of the time, but I'm a nice switch vers at heart and wouldn't mind switching it up if a person came along and put me in place like the clingy kitty I am

Will be referred to as sir, master and people I frequently talk to in a sexual setting can use daddy, only as a title, and nothing more

All pet/master, d/s relations are for fun but I feel very strongly and I will care about you and probably count you as a close friend :3

Autistic and ADHD, and mentally ill, and chronically pained– Age regressor will always log out before regressing. Also a full time worker, don't fret if I don't answer right away~

Please, please, keep in mind I am mentally ill. I am not a healthy person, do not take everything I say as the best option, nor as the best advice. I have shit memory, shit emotions and at times questionable responses.

I will log off the moment I feel myself age regressing, unless I get explicit agreement when big, to be regressed with you, and I will not click out the chat!!

Not open to sending pictures, but will keep any pictures or videos sent my way~ For any curious pet, I'm a pre op and pre t, 5 foot 2 and probably the most fem thing ever

Living in CDMX, long periods of silence are usually due to getting stuck in traffic or power outages, or when regressing.

◇Xochi is a real person I am not horny all the time lmao

A part time librarian! Head of the children's section of the library I work at, love taking care of kids and helping them get interested in reading. Also part time English teacher! Really just doing things I like nowdays~

I'm a pretty big softie at heart, expert crybaby, expert emotion feeler, expert at caring too much. I am also good at being dumb and laughing too much at stupid shit :3

I like stuff apart from masturbating and getting others horny~ Like drawing, Sky: Children of the Light, Sanrio (My Melody my beloved ♡), Percy Jackson, Artemis Fowl, Pretty Cure, plushies and cooking to name a few things I like, so don't be afraid to just talk about my interests! I'm not scary I promise :]

Understanding and open, don't like me being too rough? Go ahead and tell me— Will gladly compliment and comfort you, don't be shy! Also be a sweetheart and tell me if you get excited hm?

◇ Tags ◇

#xochimilli writes -> Orignal text posts

#xochimilli answers◇ -> Answering asks

#xochimilli's pets -> My pets being cute

#xochimilli comfort ->Only comfort more sfw

#xochimilli speaks ->Me bitching about stuff

#xochi is the breeding bitch -> Bottom/Sub POV writings

#important◇ -> important shit lmao

#☆lynn no mires☆ ->irl Xochi, audios and pictures

♡

#🫀puppy-> For my love, my bf, my sweetheart, the one who fills my whole heart and my sunshine :3 ♡

#🫀💛 -> reblogs that make me think of them ♡

☆

♱𝖋𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖔𝖙♱ <- matchy matchy for my bestie my beloved HOLAAA SEÑOR GACHA AAAAAAA

[l1tw1ck]

give me headcanons abt my wife (lucifer 🥰) or give me death

(i enjoy me a good power bottom luci but i wanna see your take on sub bottom luci if that's okay :])

Stripped of Pride

sub!bottom Lucifer (x top!masc reader)

CW: Dom/Sub, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Degradation, Humiliation

♡ Lucifer would be VERY against the idea of submitting. He would insist on being the lead in the relationship and that probably wouldn't change unless you show some dominance

♡ However, once you do get him to submit, he never wants to go back

♡ It'd take a while to get him to submit entirely but once you do, it's amazing

♡ He'll gladly call you whatever you want. Sir, Daddy, Master, whatever you prefer

♡ He's such a good boy for you. As long as it's an order, he'll do whatever you ask him to, embarrassing or not. If you want him to call you your preferred petname in public, he'll do it. You want him to wear a vibrator at a restaurant? No problem. Make him wear a skirt for easy access? No complaints from him

♡ He loves when you don't give him a choice in things, he loves when he just has to say "Yes, [Sir/Daddy/Name/Etc]" and do whatever you told him to. Of course he can always use his safeword if he truly doesn't want to do it

♡ He loves getting on his knees for you. He's supposed to be the avatar of pride and yet he loves being your subby whore

♡ He loves riding you. Before your dynamic he changed, he would ride you as a way to assert his dominance. Now it's his way of pleasing you. He loves your expressions and the praises you mutter when he rides you, he likes seeing you face to face as he makes you feel good. He especially likes it if you take over and grab him, forcing him up and down and using him like a fleshlight

♡ Degrade him!! Make him feel humiliated for the position he's currently in. Tell him how pathetic or slutty he looks, remind him of his position in devildom and how he's nothing like the strong man he pretends to be. He loves it

♡ Fuck him in front of Diavolo and show him how much of a slut Lucifer really is. He'd cry and complain but he'd love it

cw: voyeurism, use of the word cunt

Lucifer bounces on your cock, tears in his eyes as he shamefully shows Diavolo a new side of himself. "Like what you see, Diavolo?" You smirk. He nods, staring at Lucifer's cunt, watching as his hole repeatedly envelops your cock. "So much for being the demon of pride." You chuckle.