venusrising91

[venusrising91]

Gym-body

Pairing: Huta x Male reader

Genre: Smut 18+ mdni

Summary: You've always wanted a gym body. Your new trainer can help you achieve it—if you could only pry your eyes off his toned biceps for long enough to follow instructions. (Thank you to brattyboy for the request!)

Word count: 1,755 (2 pgs)

You weren’t sure if you could trust your own two eyes. It was pretty early and you hadn’t had any coffee yet. Only a bitter pre-workout drink. The interior of the gym was pretty dark. It was barely 6AM—the only available time-slot for the gym’s most highly reviewed and sought after personal trainer. He stood near the weights, looking suspiciously similar to the only boy you’ve ever had a crush on—Huta Lee. 

Except he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. Tall and muscular. So carved that he could’ve been a Greek god. 

What the fuck was he doing here? 

You should’ve paid closer attention to the photos on his employee profile. In them, his face had been obscured by a mask but now, as you looked at his page on your phone again, huddled in the corner near the mirrors, you saw that the eyes staring out at you from within the screen were familiar. You could never forget those eyes: dreamy and dark.

“You my 6am client?” asked Huta, walking toward you with two dumb-bells. 

You had resolved to leave but…fuck. Too late to chicken out now.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am,” you replied, voice trembling.

“What are you doing hiding in the corner? Come out. I won’t bite.”

You pocketed your phone and shuffled over to him. Did he recognize you? You hoped not. He never took much notice of you in high-school. But you always noticed him. He’d gotten so much bigger since those teenage days—you could hardly believe this was the same scrawny Huta that you were so enamored with back then.

He eyed you as you stood before him, then asked, “So what area are you looking to strengthen?” As he said this, he assessed your body, dragging his gaze over your chest, your arms, then lower, lingering on your…fuck. 

                fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!

You were getting hard just off the sight of him, the outline of your arousal creating a tent in your shorts.

“Is that because of me?” asked Huta. You froze. He saw it? 

Your heart quickened, beating fast as you scrambled for a reply. 

Huta chuckled. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you. Certain pre-workout drinks make me hard, too. Some dudes get wood for a while because of the increased blood flow. Should wear off once we start warming up.”

You were so flustered that you didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Every word and sentence went right out of your head. All you could focus on was the throbbing between your legs—of Huta’s lips and eyes as they gazed out at you. Of his chiseled body and the faint traces of his cologne as it wafted through the air around you.

“I...I think I should go,” you said.

Huta chuckled again. “Oh come on, it’s just an erection, bro. It’ll wear off. Let's go, pick up the weights. We’ll do a few sets, take the edge off.”

You did as he said, albeit with a degree of reluctance.

 He guided you through a warm-up and a full body work-out. By the time it was over, you were still aching and erect. It had been so long since anyone touched you. And Huta had his hands on you, spotting you through most of the session. You practically raced out of the gym after finishing the last set.

For the rest of the day, he was all you could think about. At work, at dinner, in the shower.

Later that night in bed, you set your alarm and thought about the session as you lay there. Behind your closed eyes, Huta came into focus, the fantasy of being with him weaving itself to life in the blank space of your mind. You couldn’t resist touching yourself, and came hard to the thought of him—of his naked body, then drifted.

In the morning, he was there waiting for you in the gym. The workout was just as painstaking as yesterday’s. Twice he caught sight of the bulge between your legs, widening his eyes as he regarded it.

“Starting to think you’ve got a crush on me,” Huta said with a devious grin after spotting you for a round of sit-ups. 

You adjusted your shorts and rose, feeling too shy to respond. You didn’t trust the words that might spill from your lips. Around him, you felt so insecure and unsure of yourself, and just like the sight of your hardened cock, Huta noticed this, too. “Wait, don’t tell me you actually—”

“What if I do?” you blurted it out with no thought for consequences. 

The look in his eyes. What were you thinking saying something like that? You wanted to kick yourself. Quickly, you collected your gym bag and rushed through the doors. 

Huta shouted after you. 

Outside of your pulse roaring like a lion in your ears, you could hear nothing, and you refused to stop for clarification. Whatever he’d said, he could say it to your back.

At home, you tried to forget. It was all so stupid of you. Huta was just as unavailable to you now as he had been in high school. You considered quitting the gym, and you would have, but you’d already paid in advance for three more sessions. If you kept your mouth shut and your eyes down, maybe you could get through them without another foolish incident.

The next morning (following a restless night) you entered the gym and found Huta waiting. He was frowning. Your gazes met for a split second. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his expression didn’t look welcoming in the least.

He was short with you—ordering you around and giving you hard looks for the entirety of the session. During your last set, he glared at you, arms crossed.

“The other day. What was that about?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, y/n.”

Your name. He’d said your name. Your real name (you’d given him a fake one once you realized who he was) He knew you?

“You know who I—”

“Of course I do. Clocked you as soon as you walked through the doors for our first session. You haven’t changed a bit. Still as shy and awkward as ever. Thought you might’ve outgrown it. Guess I was wrong.”

You didn’t know what to say.  Seconds ticked by in silence. Then: “Why do you keep teasing me about my—”

“About your hard-on? Why do you think?”

“I-I-I…don’t—I…”

“Are you seriously that clueless?”

You couldn’t think straight, and gathered your belongings, then headed for the locker room. You needed to get away from him.

But he followed you inside.

The next few moments were a blur. Before you realized it, Huta had you pinned against one of the lockers, breathing down on you. He stood so close that the tips of your noses touched.

“I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. You were my biggest crush,” he said against your mouth.

All this time, he wanted you, too? 

Something unfurled in you, so many years of pent up passion and wanting bursting forth all at once to claim you. You reached into Huta’s sweatpants and took him in your hand. He groaned at the contact, throwing his head back.

“That’s it, just like that,” he whispered as you stroked him. After a few pulls he drew back. “Not here,” he said, panting. With this, he grabbed you by the wrist and led you out of the locker room.

He’d taken you to the showers. It was early, and there were barely any gym-goers present. Every stall was empty. Huta pulled back the curtain of one and ushered you inside. He had his mouth on you in an instant. Sucking and biting at your willing flesh.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Huta said, trailing kisses across your chest. All you could do was moan as his lips and tongue traced lustful patterns against you. 

“I want you inside me,” you panted, breathless.

He took a break from kissing you and grinned, turning on the shower in the process. Each of you stripped off your clothing. Then slowly,  he reached behind you, and within moments, his fingers found your hole. He pushed at your entrance, gently. The water streamed over both of your naked bodies, providing a small amount of lubrication. Just not enough. 

You winced as his finger sank deeper into your tight ring of muscles.

“Loosen up, baby—relax, I won’t hurt you,” Huta said as he pressed a kiss into the hollow of your throat.

You grabbed hold of his erection as he finger fucked you, giving him tight fisted pumps. He moaned after each one, and in response, pushed his finger further into your depths. Your hole absorbed him, up to the knuckle. The pleasure made your eyes roll back.

He had you leaking all over the shower floor from the rhythm of his steady penetration.

“That’s it. Look how well you’re taking it. Good boy,” he said as he grabbed a handful of your ass, and spread your cheeks wider. He swirled his digit deeper inside of you. You almost came, and would have, but he stopped abruptly, easing his finger out of you. The sensation made you whimper and tremble. “Lean against the wall. I want to lick you.”

He didn’t wait for you to move, and shoved you against the tiles of the stall. Before you knew it, his tongue was inside of you, licking that delicate, forbidden place. He ate you like a main dish. Halfway through, he brought his hand around to tug on your hard cock. His efforts resulted in two back to back orgasms, each leaving you weaker than the last. By the third, you watched the thick ropes shooting down the drain in amazement. Stunned that your body had produced so much semen for him.

Huta would have given you a fourth orgasm, but you stopped him. 

“Had enough?” he asked, licking his lips.

You nodded. “Just about.”

“My turn, then. Get on your knees.”

You didn’t have to be told. You were longing to taste him. He made the most beautiful, ruined, helpless sounds as you swallowed his length, taking it to the back of your throat.

“Oh, fuck, y/n, just like that. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t intend to. Not even when you’d drained him of his load. He’d lost it quickly. You had been eager to please him. He praised you afterward, calling you a good boy, and showering you with compliments.

The two of you had made a mess in the shower stall. You bathed together, each working a lather on the other.

Back in the locker room, you dressed and exchanged what could only be described as coy pillow talk.

If every work-out was going to end like this, then you’d have the perfect gym body in no time. 

[venusrising91]

Helloo! Since you asked for ideas to write for Huta I was thinking of a scenario where y/n just started his subscription at a new gym and booked a PT session except that to his surprise his trainer turned out to be his previous highschool crush who after so many years later has gotten way more masculine and bulky. I'll leave the details of the session to your own imagination ;) Also feel free to tweak the plot around if you wanna include Wonho too! Thanks in advance!

Oh I like this idea 💡👀. I'll give it a go!

[venusrising91]

I wanna start writing fics about him 😍

got any requests?

[venusrising91]

The Demon Prince

Pairing: Demon Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Fantasy/horror & Smut 18+ (thinly plotted, just something fun, twisted and dirty for the spooky Halloween season 🎃)

Summary: Broke and down on your luck, an encounter with an ancient artifact brings you an otherworldly opportunity to change the hand of fate, but at what cost?

Word count: 2,685 (about 4 pages)

T/W: Dub-con, Bondage

PROLOGUE: You didn’t expect the pages to start glowing. First mind is usually the right mind and you should have followed yours. But curiosity had gotten the better of you. 

Times had been tough. A lay off at work followed by an eviction notice taped to your apartment door was the perfect recipe for desperation. Plenty of it filled you. 

In less than two weeks, you needed to be out of your complex. Most of your belongings were in boxes. You’d cleared out the place and had every intention of moving all of your things into storage since you didn’t have enough money to pay for a security deposit (and no landlord would accept a newly evicted tenant). In short, you’d resigned yourself to homelessness thanks to your overdrawn bank account. 

While you packed it was all you could think about: how little your life amounted to, how little you owned. 

Pessimistic tears sprang to your eyes as you cleaned out one of the closets in your bedroom. When you reached to the back for the last few items against the wall, a panel came loose. It fell straight out with a soft thud. Great, damaged property. There goes my security deposit.

But something else had fallen too. A book. It was large, and its cover appeared to be made of solid gold. No wonder the panel had fallen down—without the weight of the items you usually kept pressing against the wall, there was nothing to keep it upright.

You jammed the panel in place, then peeled back the book’s heavy front cover. Its design seemed intricate, ancient. The entire face was inlaid with jewels of the finest quality. One alone would probably fetch you enough money for an entire year’s worth of rent. You should’ve tried to pry one of them out, but it was too late for that. Curiosity had taken hold of you. 

The pages of the book began to glow hypnotically as you gazed at them. Faint embers at first, then brighter, bright as the sun almost. You’d never seen anything like it. When the light grew so intense that it felt as though it would blind you, it began to fade. Slowly ebbing away, bit by bit until it was gone. In its wake there remained an inscription. Written in a thick, dark red ink were the words:

“An Emêl-fëy requests an audience,” you said the foreign sentence out loud. As soon as you uttered it, a searing pain throbbed in your left wrist. You stared at it in disbelief, teeth clenched as the inscription Emêl-fëy burned itself into your flesh. “Stop!” you shouted, “Please, make it stop!”

“As you wish, little human.” The pain ended and you whipped your head in the direction of the voice. Standing behind you, right in the center of your bedroom, was the most formidable being you’d ever laid eyes on. You rose from the floor of your closet and cowered against the door frame, leaving the book inside.

“Who a-are you?” you stuttered, trembling. The being came to stand before you. His skin seemed carved of porcelain, and his face, though menacing, was rather beautiful. Your eyes met and you gasped. The color of his irises glowed red, sparkling in their sockets like rubies. He wore robes of deepest black, and atop his head  sat a many horned crown. Midnight black hair rested beneath it. He smiled and revealed a set of long, bone-white fangs.

“You should be flattered that I came when you called, little human. It is the greatest honor to be graced by the presence of the High Daemon Prince of the Seven Hells.”

“I-I didn’t call,” you said.

“But of course you did. The incantation presented itself and you spoke it. You summoned me, Emêl-fëy.”

“That’s not my name.”

“It is now.”

“What does it mean?”

He laughed. “We’ll come to that. What do you desire?”

“I don’t understand.”

“As part of the agreement that binds you to me. What would you have in exchange for becoming my Emêl-fëy?”

Why does he keep saying that word?

You scratched your head and looked around. There was no escape. You wouldn’t make it to the door in time. His legs were too long, and his muscular frame towered over yours. He had to be at least six foot seven in height and you were a lot shorter than that. He'd catch you in an instant if you tried to run.

“Please, I don't understand. I need you to explain.”

He raised a dark brow and sighed. “Very well. Ignorance will cost you. I’ll add it to your debt.”

“My debt?”

“Mm, to be paid in servitude for what all I shall grant you. Consider yourself lucky. I killed the last one that beckoned me. He was not to my tastes. But you…” he dragged a sharp, pointed nail along your jawline, “You I very much like the look of, my little Emêl-fëy. Not just any human can turn the head of an Incubus. We are a race as ancient as time itself. I have seen many wonders. Few have captured my interest as thoroughly as you have.”

“And who are you, exactly?”

He showed his fangs again and your heart raced. “I am the High Daemon Prince Hö-Suk. Now tell me, What would you have of me? I will grant you anything you desire.”

You widened your eyes. “Anything?”

“Do not make me repeat myself, little human.”

Money. You needed money. And a lot of it. You had no job, no place to live anymore. But money would change all of that. “I need wealth,” you said, heart racing. “I want to be rich.”

“Done. I grant you riches.”

Your phone vibrated against your thigh. It was a text from the landlord thanking you for your backed rental payments. But you hadn’t paid her any rent. Not in months. 

You checked your bank account. It was in the negative the last time you opened the app. Now, over eight-hundred million dollars sat in the account.

“Holy shit,” you gasped. “Did you do this?” 

The High Daemon nodded, half chuckling. 

In an instant all of your problems had vanished. You could move anywhere you wanted, do anything you desired with your life.

“Onto your hands and knees. Now.”

You looked at the High Daemon Prince with furrowed brows. “Excuse me?”

He grabbed your wrist and smoothed his thumb over the tender flesh, reminding you of the branded inscription. “It will be a long night. One of many as my Emêl-fëy.”

That word again. You tried slipping your hand from his wrist but he refused to let it go. “What does it mean? Emêl-fëy?”

“In your language? Fuck toy. The incantation you spoke was an agreement. I have granted you a desire and in return, you will be mine, little human—little Emêl-fëy. For as long as I want you. And I have an appetite as deep as the oceans for pretty men.” He waved his hand through the air and your clothes disappeared. The next instant something cool and hard slithered between your legs, caressing the back of your thighs. Cupping your buttocks. You peered down and realized it was the High Daemon’s long, thick tail—hairless as a python, smooth and pulsing. 

The High Daemon had shed his clothing too. He was carved of pure muscle—so hard bodied that he appeared to be made of stone. His tail coaxed its way between your cheeks, circling your rosebud. He forced you onto your knees.

“Open your mouth. It is mine to use, little Emêl-fëy.”

His cock was immense. His skin burned as warm as a furnace. You looked up at him and saw a smirk on his plump lips. Something about the sight of it made your cock stiff as a rock. His tail probed your entrance and you opened your mouth to let out a moan. 

As he shoved his tail into your hole, you took the High Daemon’s rigid length to the back of your throat, having little choice in the matter.

“Good boy,” he growled as you sucked him off. “Shall I give you a reward for this?”

Before you could answer, the appendage inside you began to vibrate. Your eyes rolled back as his tail buried itself deep inside you, oscillating against your prostate. “This is the spot, yes?” the High Daemon asked, shoving both his cock and tail deeper inside both your entrances. 

At the back of your throat was his large cock, and stuffed between your tight ring of muscles was the smooth pleasure of his tail, quivering inside your cheeks. Tears spilled from your eyes as he slipped his cock from your mouth and slapped it against your face. “You did not answer me, little human, little Emêl-fëy. You leave me with no option but to punish your insubordination.” 

“Yes, yes it’s the spot.”

“Address me as master, henceforth.”

“Yes master, it’s the…aahh,” his tail went deeper, vibrated harder, you couldn’t speak.

“Too late.”

He yanked the tail from your hole and the force with which it ripped from the space drew out a rope of come. It shot from your tip, long, fast and hard. You whimpered as the jet of milky semen left you. No one had ever made you come that intensely. Your entire body convulsed as the hot streams left you. Your knees would be weak if you weren’t already on them. With a mewl you collapsed to the floor, chest and stomach flush against the carpet as you struggled to regain your breath after the orgasm. The High Daemon seized both of your wrists. 

In an instant, a cord wrapped around them.

“What the—”

“Do not speak unless spoken to. And do not bother trying to free yourself. These knots are forged of darkest Daemon magic. You will not be released unless and until I unbind you.”

The High Daemon lifted your body from the floor.

“Wait, please—”

He clamped a hand over your mouth and sank his fangs into your neck.

“What did I tell you about speaking? About addressing me?”

“Sorry m-master,” you whispered, hands behind your back, chest heaving.

“That is more like it. Quiet now. Only your moans are allowed from this moment on. It is the only sound I wish to hear leave your lips. Is that understood?”

“Yes master.”

“Good boy, good little Emêl-fëy. Now. I am going to make you come for me again. Many times.”

He lowered himself onto the edge of your bed and sat you in his lap. His muscular thighs felt hard as steel beneath yours. In seconds his cock was pressing against your hole, still stretched wide from the girth of his tail. 

His cock gaped you even further.  It was twice the size of what had previously penetrated you and you gasped as it slid inside your opening. You squirmed but he held you still, hands securing your chest and waist as he fucked into you.

Your cock had hardened again in spite of your earlier orgasm. You looked down at it, slapping wildly against your abdomen. The High Daemon’s tail slithered across your body. It wrapped itself around your hard length like a fist, then began stroking. Your head fell back, lolling against the High Daemon’s shoulder as he worked you, pumped you, fucked you.

He kept your body pinned in place while he thrusted his cock in and out of your hole. His length seemed familiar with all your deepest wants. He kept the pace you liked in the back and in the front. The pleasure from each was almost unbearable.

“M-master I’m going to c—”

“Come? Not yet. You do not have my permission.”

“Master?” 

“Only after I have filled you.”

“Yes… master, but—”

“Silence. I will hear no bargaining. Only moans.”

You shut your eyes. He was bringing you dangerously close to the brink of climax. A few more strokes from that tail of his and you’d shoot like a fountain. How could he expect you to resist coming when he fucked like a god?

You tried to obey his orders, but his tail constricted even tighter around you. It gained speed and stroked your cock with an unrelenting rhythm. And to make matters more precarious, you were stuffed full of him. With each stroke he ran his cock through you like a sword, from base to tip. He fucked you faster, and a bead of slick spilled from your head. You fought against the restraints that tied your hands as your peak began to build. If you had access to your fingers, you could pry his tail off your cock and reduce some of the pleasure he was giving you.

But it was impossible to drive back the sensation of orgasm when he was fucking you so expertly. The high washed over you like a wave and you moaned.

You lost your load in a thick hot rope. It covered your chest, and trickled onto the High Daemon’s tail and thigh. He growled, wrapping a hand around your throat. The strangling made you come even harder.

“You disobeyed my commands, Emêl-fëy. I said only after I have filled you and yet…” his tail unraveled itself from your softening cock. This orgasm left you weaker than the last but the High Daemon didn’t care. He laid you on the bed and rolled you onto your side. “I shall have to punish you again.”

“Master, please.”

The same magical restraints that had bound your wrists now secured your ankles. He’d linked them together, tying you like a hog to be roasted on the spit.

“You will learn to follow orders, little human. And if I ruin you during the process, all the better.”

He laid you on your stomach and mounted you like a knight mounts a horse. Now both his cock and tail were inside you. Working you to an ecstasy you were sure would wreck you beyond repair. Nothing existed except the pleasure. You forgot your name, your age. You forgot about the High Daemon riding you. All you could see were stars as the tail vibrated in the depths of your hole alongside the cock this hadean prince of the underworld had stuffed there.

For the third time in one night, you hardened again, feeling the beginnings of another round of shooting ropes. But you didn’t have to hold them off this time.

Hot semen filled you as the High Daemon emptied himself inside you. The feeling alone triggered your release. Your cock was trapped between the mattress and your stomach but that didn’t stop you from soiling it with your come. A harsh grunt escaped the High Daemon, drowning out your shrill moans as your third orgasm rippled through you.

While you shuddered there, the bonds on your wrists and ankles disappeared. You rolled onto your back and tried to recover.

“Good little Emêl-fëy,” the High Daemon said, running his hands along your slick abdomen, “You took me well. That little hole of yours is…exquisite. Quite rare for a human to withstand the stamina of an Incubus as ancient and strong as I. You quenched but an inkling of my thirst—my lust, but I can already tell that you will make a fine servant. Soon you will learn my tastes.”

In a flash he dressed himself again. 

“Master,” was the only word you could manage.

“Find yourself a better dwelling. You have riches now with which to do so. When I return again to fuck you senseless, I expect to be met with luxury as fine as the orgasms I have given you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good.”

The High Daemon Prince of the Seven Hells disappeared like mist and you let out a contented sigh, still feeling tender and sensitive from being used so extensively. Despite the brand on your wrist, and the agreement of indefinite servitude, you smiled. Three orgasms and being the High Daemon’s Emêl-fëy was a small price to pay for becoming a millionaire. Already, you were craving another high, another night spent serving your new master.

[venusrising91]

Cam-Boy

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut 18+ (sprinkle of plot)

Summary: Bunny_hunk_lee is the top OF performer in your state—he’s also the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. You’ve been subscribed to his channel for months, and when a rare opportunity to breathe the same air as him presents itself, you leap at it.

Word count: 1,960 (about 2 pgs)

T/W: Forced urination, para-social relationship and power imbalance

“Bi_sexiboi93! Thanks for that generous donation. Much appreciated babe.”

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face at the sound of your username leaving Bunny_hunk_lee’s lips. You never missed a stream and tonight’s was spectacular. You shared an orgasm—through the screen of course.

Bunny_hunk_lee toweled the cum off his abs with a smirk and the sight alone was enough to push you over the edge once more. But you controlled yourself, and instead sent him another donation—double the amount of the last one. “Whoa, thanks again Bi_sexiboi93. You really love me don’t you baby?”

He spoke like this to all of his subscribers—it was nothing special, you knew well. But that didn’t stop the heat from spreading through you at the mention—at the acknowledgement.

After flexing his triceps and giving his cum-slick cock a few more pulls, Bunny_hunk_lee ended the stream. You sighed and cleaned yourself up, then slipped in bed, pulling out your phone for one last doom scroll before resting.

A new post from Bunny_hunk_lee appeared on your feed. He was wearing the same clothes he had on during the stream, except it was daytime. He must have snapped it beforehand. It was a shot of him face down on his bed, in a hoodie and shorts—plump muscular ass taking up most of the frame. You commented: wish i was under you👅

Already drowsy from the orgasm, sleep came as easily as breathing, and you drifted.

The next morning, you woke twenty minutes after your alarm had gone off, and that meant that you had to rush through your shower and breakfast to avoid being late for work. Thankfully you made it there in time for the weekly meeting. When it was done, you caught up on some emails and before long, your lunch hour rolled around. You took it at your desk and whipped out your phone while you ate.

You nearly choked as the notifications filled your screen. Bunny_hunk_lee replied to your comment: oh yeah? What state you live in babe?

He had liked all six of the photos on your profile grid. Most were selfies you’d taken at the gym and a few blurry food pics. Your heart began pumping faster when you saw the icon indicating two unread messages from him in your inbox.

ur hot.

wanna bottom for me on OF?

You stared at the words with your mouth hanging open. You typed out four replies, deleting each one. Your initial reactions were too cringey to send. As you tried for a fifth time, a green dot appeared next to his profile pic. Then:

typing…

Fuck. Why was your heart beating so fast? Before you could steel yourself, another message popped up.

forgot to add, it’s for pre-recorded content, not a stream so can blur ur face

Anonymity and a chance to be with him? Who could ask for anything more? You took a deep breath and wrote:

I’m down. When and where?

Your hands were shaking as you exchanged messages back and forth, arranging the time and place for the shoot. He sent you his health details and a clean STD panel. You did the same, luckily having just gotten your results back from your last physical a few days ago. The timing was perfect. And you even lived near his address. All this time, he was just a twenty minute drive from your apartment. 

The rest of the day was a blur. Hell, the rest of the week. You were riding on a high—one you didn’t want to come down from. The man you’ve been jacking off to every night not only thinks you’re hot, but he wants to fuck you too. You could hardly believe it. 

Later, he went live and you tried watching the stream but found that it made you jitter with nerves and so for the first time in two years, you skipped it.

When the day of the scheduled hook-up finally arrived, you could hardly take steady breaths. You wished the drive up to his place took longer so you could gather yourself. But you were there in a flash.

Once you showed up, he stood on the other side of the door, smiling down at you. He was taller than you by more than just a few inches. You hadn’t expected that. In person his muscles were more defined—his complexion even richer. 

“Don’t look so nervous—I won’t bite until you ask me to, come on in.”

He opened the door wide and you slipped past him with a shy chuckle, catching a whiff of his cologne. Tom Ford, expensive stuff.

“Nice place,” you said, taking inventory of his spacious, luxury condo.

“Thanks. Bedroom’s just through there. Need anything before we get going. Water? Bathroom?”

You shook your head and made for the room. It was three times the size of yours. A camera was pointed at the bed. He came in and stood behind it, fiddling with the settings before peeling off his shirt.

“Should I take mine off too?” you asked.

“Whatever makes you comfortable, baby. Speaking of comfort, got any boundaries? Anything off limits?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you blurted out in excitement before thinking. He chuckled.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

He stepped from behind the camera and began palming your cock over your jeans, breathing minty breath over you all the while. He had you out of your clothes in seconds. 

“You gonna be a good bottom and stay hard for me the whole time?” he whispered as he gripped you, sliding his hand from base to tip and back again. You nodded, unable to find the words to form a reply. A small, helpless whimper escaped you as he tipped your head to the side and kissed the length of your neck. He made his way to your mouth. His tongue swirled around yours, warm and soft between your lips. The embrace was so intense that you had to pull away to catch your breath. As you panted, he put a hand on your shoulder, urging you onto your knees. He reached inside his pants and his thick cock sprang free. Quickly he took hold of it, slapping it against your face.

“Open your mouth for me,” he cooed, bottom lip caught between his teeth while he stared down at you. His head fell back as you swallowed him. “Just like that,” he added, groaning and fisting your hair. He let you give him head for as long as you wanted, praising you the whole time. The taste of his clean skin had you leaking onto the hardwood floors. He noticed the growing micro pool of it as he pulled you to your feet. “Crawl on the bed, all fours, ass to the camera. Gonna spread that hole and get you dripping even more.”

Once you assumed the position he’d asked of you, he struck an open palm across both of your ass cheeks. You gasped at the sting, then moaned long and hard as his tongue circled your entrance. He ate you for what felt like ages, teasing you here and there with tugs and strokes. You almost came as he pumped your rock hard cock from behind. Suddenly you jerked with the beginning of what would have been the most intense release of your life, but he abruptly drew back, sensing your orgasm and robbing you of it.

“Not yet, baby. Haven’t even given you my pipe. You want it don’t you?” You nodded, then he chuckled and slapped your ass cheeks again, driving away the sensation of your building orgasm and somehow, making you even harder than you had been. 

He took a break from spanking you to adjust the camera angle, leaving you feeling bare and exposed without the warmth of his body near yours. When he returned, you looked over your shoulder at him and caught a glimpse of his sculpted body. He was like an Adonis carving as he hovered over you. He winked before depositing a generous stream of lube onto your hole, spreading it around with his finger. He pushed one inside and you arched as it slid in.

“You’re tighter than I’m used to. I’ll take it slow,” he said.

He was true to his word, and took his time entering you. The stretch was like nothing you’d ever felt before. He had you fisting the sheets, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as he gave you deep strokes. 

Over and over again, he buried his length inside you. Sounds of him pounding you echoed throughout the space. It went on for long, glorious moments. Soon, he slowed his pace, and the tip of his cock curved against your prostate as his balls hit your ass. He lingered there, grinding. The motion made your eyes roll back while he pressed himself deeper, rubbing his engorged head against your spot and making you leak all over his clean sheets. It took you a moment to realize he was getting close. He emptied a hot burst of cum inside you the next instant, prompting your release. It swept over you like a storm—you weathered it beneath him, ass stuffed full of his cock. 

The ropes came one after another, followed by sharp cries. You shuddered there under all his weight, until he wrapped his arms around your waist and chest, then lifted you off the bed. You hadn’t realized how much stronger he was than you. It was like you weighed nothing to him, despite being pretty stocky and muscular yourself.

“What are you doing?” you asked through heavy breaths as he lowered you onto his lap, both of you were at the edge of the bed now, facing the camera.

“Buying time,” he whispered into your ear, “No one’s ever made me cum that fast.”

Before you could beg him to give you a minute or two to recover from your high, his hand was around your softening, sensitive cock. He pumped hard. You shrieked, bucking and jerking against his firm body. He stilled you with even harder strokes and you stopped fighting as a strange sensation overtook you. 

Before long something began building up—a sharp pressure, not unlike the feeling of almost pissing your pants.

“Please s-stop,” you begged between shivers and breaths. “Feels like I’m gonna—gonna—”

“Piss all over yourself and my floor?” he asked, pumping you even harder, “I know—that’s what I’m betting on. It'll look great on camera.”

Your eyes rolled back for the second time in one night as he pinned you tighter against him, one hand stroking you, the other cupping your balls—which were empty. It was your bladder that wasn’t.

“B-but—”

“Shhhh, it’ll feel good. Even better than the orgasm I just gave you, and you'll probably cum a little more beforehand too. I Promise. Just relax, let it happen. You’ll see, there’s nothing like it.”

You were too overstimulated to protest—to speak—to do anything outside of let your body be led by his influence. He guided you along the path of your second high. You didn’t think it was possible to feel anything as intense as the orgasm you just had. You were wrong. You came again somehow, just like he said you would.

Then, without warning, he slipped a finger inside you. You clenched around it uncontrollably and braced yourself against him as the contents of your bladder came gushing out, hard and fast like a fountain. He milked you for every drop as you squealed and writhed in his lap with your back against his chest, panting and on the verge of collapse.

“That’s it sexy. Let it all out for me like a good bottom.”

More tight-fisted strokes sent you arching and spraying. You had never felt anything like this. The floor beneath you was soaked. Both of you were drenched now. He didn’t seem to mind, and pressed kisses into your neck. The wetter you made the place, the more he praised you. You poured like a water hose for a full thirty seconds (you watched the recording once it was posted and timed it).

When at last he drained you of everything, you lay sprawled on the bed, limp and tender as a noodle. He helped you clean yourself, then lay beside you.

“Fuck that was good,” he said, tucking both hands behind his head. “You down for another round. Maybe later this week?”

You rolled onto your side and rested your head on his chest. He stroked your back. 

“Yeah,” you said, “I’d love that.”

[venusrising91]

Prince of Hearts

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Fantasy/Royal bodyguard (light smut & a small bit of yearning+a smidge of thin plot lol)

Summary: The head of your royal garrison works to uncover crimes against the crown. You fall for him in the process. But will he succumb to your advances?

Word count: 3,057 (about 4.5 pgs)

An attempt had been made on your life but you were only vaguely aware of this as the haziness in your head cleared. The aftertaste of the poisoned wine overpowered rational thought. But you didn’t need to use your mind, not with Lieutenant Lee standing watch. He was somewhere near, hovering in the margins of your vision. You couldn’t yet see him but you’d recognize his scent under any circumstance, even semi-conscious you could make out the soft notes of jasmine and hyacinth. 

Among all your royal guards, he prided himself on hygiene and appearance the most. While others of your high garrison wasted their coin on gambling and drink, Lieutenant Lee preferred spending his stipend on finer things: the most luxurious imported silks, perfumed oils, cultural enrichment lessons.

    “My lord, you must take water, and quickly. These foreign poisons are known to cripple if not properly flushed out of one’s system.” Lee had whispered these words to you in hushed tones, spoken in the Knight's Tongue—the formal language of those devoted in service to you. It was wise of him to speak it in the presence of so many foreigners, all of them now potential enemies, assailants. It was wiser still of Lieutenant Lee to have been so wary of this gala. Wary enough to have insisted you take an Immunity Tonic before leaving the palace. He had slipped it into your hands whilst dressing you, despite your protests. You had fussed and whined for you knew it to be bitter and unnecessary but he said nothing, merely stood resolute, brow quirked in that stoic, insufferable way of his. He’d aimed one of his cold glares at you until you’d forced it all down, wincing at the strong medicinal taste. You had cursed him then but gods you were grateful for it now. His paranoia had saved your life. 

He stared down at you, cool and collected despite the chaos in the dining hall. Wide-eyed dignitaries and princes were scrambling in panic but Lieutenant Lee was unfazed as he tended to you, gently pressing the rim of a chalice to your lips, urging you to sip. You drank, and the water went to work at once, clearing your head, bringing you back to yourself. When the cup had been drained, you rose to your feet, somewhat unsteady as you gazed upon the sea of stunned faces.

“The prince is alive! Oh thank the—” you put your hand up to silence the baron, the sound of his voice was high and grating. Your ears couldn’t handle it. Nor could your eyes endure the pompous sight of him—dressed in loud, clashing colors of every print imaginable.You shut them, pinching the bridge of your nose as you leaned against Lieutenant Lee for support.

“Ready the horses,” commanded Lieutenant Lee, taking you by the arm and leading you away from the loud baron, who insisted upon shouting apologies at your back. It had been his gala, and you’d attended only at the bequest of your title. As crown prince and next in line for the throne, you could not dismiss the invitation of courtiers, no matter how lowly you deemed them.

Back at the palace, in your quarters, Lieutenant Lee tended to you, drawing your bath and laying out your night clothes. You had servants for this but he had not trusted you to be alone with anyone but him given your state, and had sent them away. A show of his fealty. 

He peeled off your clothing with gentle hands. You stood naked and trembling before him. Shy, for he was fully dressed and resplendent in the gold and crimson uniform of a high ranking vassal. But he kept his eyes on yours, they did not dip any lower as he led you to the bath.

“I have compiled a list of possible assailants,” he said as he smoothed cleansing oils across your chest.

“Oh? Already?”

“Mmm.” You fought to keep from shuddering at this reply, it was a low rumble in his throat. A grunt really. There was something sinful about it and you felt a searing heat rush to your lower extremities. The water was opaque with suds from the cleansing oils, bless the gods. What rose underneath it could be seen by none, and felt only by you.

    “Is the baron among your suspects?” you asked, shrinking from his soft touches, they were beginning to drive you mad.

    “Of course. I’m calling a formal inquisition at first light. Your royal guard will be battle ready from here until the end of it—until whoever is responsible for this is caught.”

    “Full armor? Really Lieutenant, is that necessary? I’m fine, I’m alright, not even a scratch on me.” You meant this as a joke but he merely glared at you as he lifted your arm, rubbing circles under it—you felt the heat of him even through the washcloth.

    “I am the head of your garrison. I do not take assassination attempts lightly.”

    “What of jokes? Can you take them lightly, or at all?”

    He responded with another of his lewd grunts, licking his lips this time, dark eyes fixed on his task. Gods you were going to lose a load and soil the water. It was a small mercy that he was fully clothed, that you could not see his bare and chiseled form as he saw yours, here and now. Why did he have to be this way? So gods damned alluring and unattainable and—

    No. No, no, no, no,no. You mustn't do this.

    “Are you alright my lord?”

    “What?”

    “You look like you’re in pain.” 

    “Oh, I’m—fine, I’m—”

    “Come, you must rest now. The night has worn on you.”

    You did not protest, and were in fact grateful to have been given an out.

****

The following morning you rose early, before the servants even. You had not slept well and headed for the temple to pray to the goddess for strength. You made a modest offering at her alter and left, nearly colliding with Lieutenant Lee as you stepped over the threshold. Of course he had followed you, why in heavens did you think you could escape his notice? He was something to behold in his armor. All of the skin and carved muscle you couldn’t see the night before was now on full display. Silver plates adorned his ivory skin and his dark hair gleamed like a lake at midnight reflecting the moon. He bowed, sword dangling from his hip—a warrior.

    At the morning meal he had tasters sample your food for poisons before allowing you to eat. The baron’s son had journeyed overnight and joined you for the meal, bearing gifts of honeyed wine and laurels in apology. He was called Evander and had at one time, wanted your hand in marriage. But you had little in common and the union would have benefited him more than you. There was also the case of his dull personality and appearance—he wasn’t at all your type. Despite this, you still gave him your audience. After having eaten, the two of you strolled through the court gardens, the afternoon sun lending its summer warmth.

    “I must once more apologize for what transpired at Father’s gala,” said Evander as the pair of you waded through a winding path of lilies.

    “You needn’t. I’m alright.”

    “That lieutenant of yours,” Evander paused and threw a sidelong glance over his shoulder at Lee as he trailed behind you, “such quick thinking to have saved you like that.”

    “Mm, I’m lucky to have him.”

    “Indeed,” muttered Evander.

    “Luckier still that of all the nobility present that night, mine was the only meal to have been tampered with.” You regretted saying this, but much as you'd tried, you couldn’t help feeling jaded and indignant. Evander stiffened at this speculative slight.

    “You’re angry. And rightfully so. But you don’t know how embarrassing this is for us, our family. Falling out of favor like this, it’s worse honestly than swallowing poison.”

    “Is that so?” you quipped, barely suppressing a scoff.

    “We’ve lost the trust of every nobility in the province.”

    You rolled your eyes. “Some might say that is what you deserve.” Evander made a choked sound and stopped walking. More regret—it seemed a dearest companion of yours this day. “Listen,” you continued, “I’ve no ill will towards you. You’ve requested an audience and I’ve obliged. Surely this will be enough to lend back some of your credibility once word spreads of your being here.”

    “I—I suppose but—”

    “My lord, you are expected in the drawing room for the oversight and signature of imported goods.” This was Lieutenant Lee. He stood beckoning you with that quirked brow of his—an expression he put on when trying to be authoritative. It worked and you went to him at once, offering a half-hearted farewell to Evander.

    “You’re welcome to the east wing, stay as long as you need,” you called to him over your shoulder as you walked off.

    The remainder of the day was filled with the usual tedium of princely duties. You performed dull tasks, one after another until night crept upon you. After a supper surrounded by Evander and his consorts in waiting, you found yourself alone again, undressing before Lieutenant Lee.

“Why do you insist on this? My servants will start a riot. They will think they are being displaced of their duties, turned out of the palace,” you huffed. Lieutenant Lee ignored you, stripping off your undergarment with the indifference of one changing a bedsheet. You wished you could do the same thing to him, and stood imagining yourself freeing him of his armor, running your hands along his stiff and bulging...

    “In nudity you are most vulnerable. I don’t trust you under the watch of anyone but me. They are not as thorough as I am. They cannot protect you in an ambush.”

    “Gods you’re overestimating my enemies. Whoever they may be, they’re cowards. They had to employ wines and posions to do the work of ending me. Couldn't even put steel to flesh like real men.” Lieutenant Lee chuckled at this and your heart quickened. That sound. Fuck, that beautiful sound. It did things to you, and when you were out of your clothes, you rushed to the bath, concealing yourself in the water. 

He cleaned you with the same tenderness he had the night prior, sliding his large hands up and down the length of your torso, across the span of your chest. He did you the courtesy of letting you cleanse your privates on your own, but this did little to ease you—his presence alone was enough to send the blood pumping to your head—the one that didn’t do your thinking.

    When you were clean, he fetched a cloth. You rose, shielding your steadily growing length from him. If he had noticed a change in you, he said nothing, merely covered you and led you back to your quarters. Then left you to stand guard outside your door.

    There was a vial of oil stowed in your bedside table. You seized it and lay on your back. He was all you could think of as you worked to quell the aching throb between your legs.

The following day went much the same as the previous, and the next, and the next, and the one after. As did the nights. Each bath with him drove you a touch madder than the last. Not only for being so near to him, for breathing in the sultry scent of his perfumed sweat, but for the way he was so utterly unmoved by you, as if you were but a fixture on the wall, or a piece of furniture strewn about the palace. Something there and nothing more. You were certain he felt no throbbing, no ache or raging want to press his skin against yours. 

Every one of your guards had a rumor or more about their escapades. They were all of them highly desirable men and women, selected for their skill, their charm, their devotion. Sarafine had seduced every maiden in the court with her sweet tongue and flowing braids. She had even tempted you. Maxim had wooed both men and women, sometimes even stealing away married nobles from their wives or husbands. There was sordid talk of almost all your garrison, save for Lieutenant Lee. It was as if he was made of stone.

****

Nearly a fortnight had passed and Evander had still not left the palace. Lieutenant Lee was deep in the inquisition all the while. He had ruled out many of his suspects and you were growing weary of seeing Evander sulk about the courtyards. You had resolved to confront him in private, and managed to sneak away from Lieutenant Lee’s prying eyes long enough to practice what you’d say to Evander aloud. You sequestered yourself in the great palace library, where no ears could overhear you. It was quiet, and carried the soothing smell of old pages. It was everything you needed. So silent and familiar it was, that you did not even notice the figure that crept behind you until their hands were wrapped around your throat. You felt the blade against your neck and panic overcame you.

    “The baron sends his regards, and his sympathy for not ensuring your demise at the gala, it would have been a cleaner death than this.”

    There was nothing you could do but pray to the goddess for a swift end. Whoever this was, had caught you completely off guard. You clamped your eyes shut, and braced for the pain. 

But it did not come. 

There was a loud shriek and the harsh sounds of fists against flesh, against jaws. You turned and saw Lieutenant Lee, panting over your attacker, sword drawn and already at his neck. You recognized the man as one of Evander’s consorts—a lord in waiting. 

Lieutenant Lee did not relent his assault, even when the man was bloodied and beaten delirious. The rest of your royal garrison came in and carried him off so that you did not have to look upon him. 

A short while later, Evander was jailed and a warrant of arrest was dispatched for his father, the baron. If you had been killed, your sister would be next in line for the throne—next in line to be courted by another of the baron's power hungry sons. The nerve of them, of Evander, after all the courtesy you had shown.

    You could think of nothing but the injustice, and the fact that Lieutenant Lee had not said a word to you for the remainder of the day. He must have been angry with you for trying to shirk him. Even so, he had still sent the servants away, despite the fact that he had vanquished the threat upon your life. He bathed you in his normal, stoic fashion, but you flinched from him as he brought the cloth to your neck. A flashback of the attack had taken over you.

    “You are still shaken,” he said, lowering the cloth.

    “I’m alright. Or I will be, in time.”

    He said nothing more and carried on in his usual way. 

In your chamber he lingered, drying your hair with a cloth and checking the small cut on your neck where the blade had dug in. He spread a healing, herbal balm on it. Your eyes met, and held as the pad of his finger worked it in. 

    “Th-thank you, for saving my—my—”

    “You are my prince. It is my duty, my honor. I need no thanks.”

    Something possessed you in that moment—perhaps it was the memory of him fighting so valiantly to save your life. Or the conviction in his declaration. Whatever it was stirred you to action and you did not think, you did not hesitate. Your lips were on his in an instant, eager hands slipping under the armor that kept him from you. 

He did not stop you from this, he simply stood still, and let you do as you wanted. You took liberty with this allowance, and a grunt escaped him as you palmed his length. It doubled in size with a few hard circles rubbed against it and this is when he stopped you. Swatting your hand away and lifting you—lifting you! 

You nearly gasped as he carried you to the bed, as his hands worked to shed you of your robes. Those hands which had grazed you so many times. Touching you without feeling you. Now they aimed to please you. He reached, and took you in his large palm, stroking until you were hard as stone in his grasp—it took mere seconds.

    “Oil, is there any here?” he whispered, breathing the words into your mouth between kisses. You snatched it from your bedside table and pressed it into his palm. He took his time sliding into your entrance with his rigid length. There was so much of him to take. 

You had never imagined he would be such a gentle lover.

    “You will tell me if it hurts my lord?” he cooed as he eased himself inside you. You nodded, already lying to him. It hurt but you wanted the pain, you wanted it because he was giving it to you.

    “Don’t stop,” you said, breathless. He did not stop. Pleasure danced across his features as he buried himself inside you. He was so handsome under its influence. His strokes were long, deep. He told you of your beauty with each one, of your tightness, of the way you clenched around him, of how he longed to be the only one to feel the depths of you each night. Was this the same man who had guarded you day after day? Cold and unyielding as a marble sculpture. He was nothing like that now, as the heat of him filled you, as he pumped your stiff cock and fed you his length until you met your release. Warm ropes painted your abdomen. More painted your stretched and pulsing entrance as he spilled his warmth inside you. You went on this way for hours, and lost count of how many loads you lost to his oil-slick pulls, his ardent pumps. Until finally he collapsed on top of you, grunting with the vestiges of his high. You kissed him, holding his face with both hands.

    “I did not think you desired me,” you said.

    A chuckle, breathy and spent.

    “Of course I do. I am sworn to you. You are my prince—my heart.”

[venusrising91]

I loved your wonho x male reader fic, it was really good! I'm also curious about which groups you write for

Thank you, glad you liked it :) I'm not much into groups these days. Just tend to like an idol/actor here or there.

[venusrising91]

Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers/hate to love (no plot just vibezzzz)

Summary: Your new nextdoor neighbor, Wonho (Lee-ho) is a loud, inconsiderate gym rat. He keeps you up all hours of the night with his seedy escapades and you're sick of it. 

Word count: 2,014 (2 pages)

T/W: aggression, physical violence

It was 4am and you had work at 8, yet rest was as far from your reach as the sun would be once it rose. 

Short hours. 

You had short hours to get some much needed sleep. But no matter how hard you’d tried, you hadn’t been able to reach the REM state and it was all thanks to your obnoxious, ridiculously muscular neighbor, Lee-ho. 

    For the third time this week, giggling voices and blaring music, followed by high-pitched moans had kept you wide awake. Usually, after one or two rounds with whatever girl he’d picked up scouring city night clubs, the mewls and slaps and yes daddys would subside, and you could finally drift. But tonight, he seemed to have endless energy. You heard his date come four times. Back to back.

    It was almost 6:30 by the time they wore themselves out.

    You’d barely slept. At the office, you struggled to keep your eyes open, staring through slits at the charts on your computer. The project manager noticed you nodding and called you into her office after the meeting. As head graphic designer, you were expected to oversee and execute this assignment—because securing this client would ensure you a raise next quarter, but the arrival of your new neighbor had thrown a wrench in your performance.

    She threatened to take you off the project and her disappointment was all you could think about on your commute back home.

    In the apartment lobby, you pressed the button on the elevator console so hard it nearly jammed.

    “Sup bruh.” You whipped your head around and there was Lee-ho, all 6 feet of him, donned in gym wear and sipping on some colorful drink. You clenched your teeth.

“Hey,” you mumbled back with listless regard.

    The elevator doors opened and Lee-ho walked gingerly ahead of you. Before he could step inside however, his cell slipped from his pocket. As he bent you couldn’t help but notice his butt: firm, round, muscled. You tore your eyes away and carded your hair. Inside, the music was soft and unobtrusive. The exact opposite of Lee-ho.

“How you feeling?” he asked, plunging his hands into his pockets.

“Tired.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, me too.”

    “I’m sure you are.” You glared at him, slightly envious of the angle of his jaw, of how much sharper it was than yours. And envious also of the broad span of his chest, his neat features, his lips, his hair. He was by all accounts, an objectively better looking man than you and this only added to your irritation.

    “What d’you mean by that?” asked Lee-ho, quirking his brow. He must have sensed your frustration because now he was folding his arms, closing up. You didn’t care.

    “You know the walls that separate us are paper thin, right?”

    “Yeah, and?”

    The doors slid open on your floor. “I can hear everything. All the time.” You stepped out before him, stalking down the hallway.

    “My bad, dude. I’ll keep it down,” he shouted after you. There was a smug air about his tone and you ignored him as you shoved your key into the lock. It was only 7pm but you were exhausted. After a quick dinner of leftover pasta, and an even quicker shower, you went to bed, desperate to get back the hours you’d lost. You drifted in minutes, sleeping soundly, until loud music and moans yanked you from your dreams at 2am.

    You leapt from the bed, pulling on a robe, not bothering to tie it. It took less than two minutes for you to reach Lee-ho’s door. You pounded on it furiously, on and on, until he swung it open. For a moment, each of you stood silently observing one another. He was fully nude, sweating and cupping his genitals as his eyes swept over you. They lingered on your chest, you noted, then trailed up to meet your gaze. Despite your robe, you felt suddenly bare, and exposed. Quickly you tied it, covering yourself from him.

    “What the fuck, dude?” said Lee-ho.

    “Keep it down.”

    “Yeah and what if I don’t?”

    “I’ll write a formal complaint. You're violating code of conduct with this shit. Some of us have actual jobs, you know?”

“I have a job.”

“Gym bro influencer and fuckboy does not an occupation make.” This was rude, and uncalled for. But you were sleep deprived. Lee-ho's shoulders slumped down a measure—he appeared somewhat diminished in the face of the insult and you almost felt bad for him. Your eyes fell on his abs however, and then, without meaning to, dipped even lower, catching a glimpse of what was too large to be completely covered by his palm. Even his cock was better than yours—he didn’t need your pity. Without waiting for a retort, you turned and stormed down the hall.

Back in your bedroom, the beginnings of an erection tugged at the tender flesh between your legs. And by the time you lay back in bed, you were rock-hard, and aching.

    In the morning you shaved and contemplated calling out, but you really couldn’t afford to. At work, you tried to concentrate but all you could think of was Lee-ho, of his throbbing head, peeking up from behind his hand in the middle of the doorway. You didn’t like men. At least you thought you didn’t. You’d had a few girlfriends in the past and once or twice thought about experimenting with a guy back in college but no one ever drew you in. No one ever attracted you the way—

    Enough, you weren’t doing this. What were you thinking? You weren’t into dudes and especially not ones you despised as much as Lee-ho. He probably never had to work for anything a day in his life. Just had to show up and collect everyone's praise and adulation. 

Prick.

    Back at the apartment, you took the stairs to avoid crossing paths with him. Thankfully it was Friday, and you could catch up on your shows without feeling guilty for missing the sleep that was so hard to come by lately. 

After dinner and a shower, you binged a season of a new show on Netflix, and dozed off halfway through. But a short while later, a sharp knock on the door jolted you awake.

    You shuffled to it, half-dazed. Waiting on the other side was Lee-ho, glaring a hole through your forehead.

    “You know, you’re a real asshole?” he declared. 

    “Could say the same about you.”

    “What you said the other night—you don’t talk to people like that. I want an apology.”

    You scoffed and made to shut the door. But he stopped it, forcing it open. “Get off the door and fuck off,” you clipped.

    “Or what?”

    Impulse and anger drove you to shove him, which was stupid. His arms alone were twice the size of yours. He shoved you back and you stumbled into your apartment. Lee-ho stepped over the threshold, letting the door slam behind him. Then his hands were on you again, crashing into your chest. It knocked the air from your lungs. Enraged, you swung and missed. He caught it and wrapped his hand around your throat, pinning you against a wall. His face was inches from yours as he strangled you, but slowly, his grip loosened. Each of you were panting. He smelled expensive, like Tom Ford—the scent filled you, clouded your head and senses. His breath on you was warm, his lips resting short inches from yours. He brought them even closer, until the tips of your noses were grazing.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

    “I—I’m not—I’m straight but…your…” he trailed off, hand sliding across your chest.

    “You wanna fuck me, that it?” Neither of you said a word, only stood there, gazing, panting. Then your hand traveled down, until it landed on his crotch. You palmed his cock, and found it was already hard for you. After the other night, you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Once it was in your mouth, he made the most helpless sounds, cupping your head and guiding you as you swallowed it again and again.

    “Fuck, your throat feels s-so good,” mewled Lee-ho. You fought against your gag reflex, getting harder each time he shoved it in, down to the hilt. Your eyes watered. You never thought the taste of cock could turn you on this much. Women were lovely and all but this was something else entirely. It was like satisfying some primal urge you never knew existed until now. You squeezed his balls gently, sucking him all the while. He came in minutes and stood over you shivering as the orgasm rippled through him.

    You rose, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Lee-ho dropped to his knees, pulling down your boxers. He took you in his mouth and it felt like the world stopped spinning. His tongue swirled around the tip, one hand cradling your heavy balls, the other gripping your ass, a finger seeking the rosebud. He tried to slip it in but you panicked, bucking away like a spooked horse.

    “I thought you said you were straight?” you whispered.

    He popped your cock from his warm mouth. You twitched as he smirked up at you. “Chicks like it sometimes. I figured you might wanna give it a try. Feels tight though, got any lube?”

    You hesitated, wondering what it would be like to have his finger circling inside you. There was nothing but heat and silence as you stared down at him. “In the bedroom,” you said, breathlessly.

    As you lay on your back watching his chiseled body shift in the dim light, he slathered the lube you kept in your bedside drawer onto his middle finger. Then he drizzled some over your erection, spreading it with long strokes.

    “Fuuuuuck,” you whined, arching at the pleasure, at the way he gripped you.

“You like that?” With this, he slid a finger inside you, taking it slow. The pressure had you arching even more. Once he eased you past the initial pain, all you could do was moan and claw and look down at your rock-hard cock as he pumped you in two places, at different paces. In the front he squeezed tight, giving you fast, steady strokes, but in that pulsing spot between your cheeks he worked you soft and deep, taking his time as his finger explored your depths. The pressure was glorious, and you felt your entrance contracting around him. “You’re dripping for me,” he cooed. You looked down at yourself as he gripped the base, a long rope dangling from the tip onto your stomach. He licked it, dragging the pad of his tongue along your abs, then swallowed you whole. After a few hard sucks he pulled back, finger still buried in you, coaxing out spasms you couldn't control. Fuck he was so attractive, you never thought a man could make you feel this good.

    The next moment, you were shooting ropes in the air, convulsing under him and fisting the sheets as he drained you. He let you pant there, chest heaving, before taking your length back into his mouth. He sucked and finger-fucked you through your sensitivity, ignoring your loud moans and cries. You asked him to stop but you didn’t mean it. You wanted more and he gave it to you. All night. After your third orgasm you could barely stay conscious.

Lee-ho crept beside you, watching as you shivered your way through the leavings of your latest high. 

    “I’m s-sorry,” you muttered between waves of it, “about the other day. You’re right, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

    He chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll be quiet from now on, promise.”

    You couldn’t quite keep your eyes open, and drifted then, still tingling from what he'd done to you. Your rest went uninterrupted for the first time in weeks. But when you woke, Lee-ho was gone.

    From then on, the noise had stopped, just like he'd promised. But a few times a week, just before bed, there came a knock at your door, and a smirking, half-naked Lee-ho waiting on the other side of it.

[venusrising91]

King Lee

Pairing: Wonho x Female reader (+ brief mention of Wonho x Male)

Genre: Smut ( no plot in sight lol, just something short to read before bed )

Summary: Powerful and handsome; King Lee beds many concubines. Though he grows bored of them after a single night. Will you be any different?

Word count: 1074

T/W: DubCon

The king's lust was rumored to be insatiable. He never called upon the same concubine. 

Each night there was a new face in his bedchamber, a new body to ravish. Tonight he would bed a young man— lean and muscular with a face even the prettiest maiden envied. Surely he would be the one to leave the king smitten, to break his unending streak of never repeating conquests. You were certain of it. 

His name was Delios and his rank was low, just a courtier. But his bottom was plump and his abdomen taut. You’d attended to him days ago in the baths, cleansing the smooth golden skin, stealing glances at the nude flesh when you thought he wasn’t looking. He caught you of course.

    “You needn't be shy of staring, I know it well, how I look,” he’d said, a haughty raise of a black eyebrow flashing above his hazel eyes. “I am a work of art, they say. The king will never tire of me. After this night, you’ll see much of me here, so look all you wish.”

You had been too shy to respond. It was not your place anyway. You were just a servant girl. But his boasts were valid enough, after all, many of the nobles and courtiers desired him. The servants too. Why shouldn’t he satisfy King Lee’s appetite? He was neither dull nor plain, like many of the lovers that filtered through his royal bed. The king liked beautiful things. And Delios was the most winsome man you’d known of.

Later that night, you escorted him to the king's bedchamber and waited to be dismissed, eyes glued to the floor, head down.

 King Lee waltzed into the room and with a wave of his hand you were relieved of your duty. 

The moans started before you’d even made it down the hallway. You paused and pressed your ear against the walls. The slapping of flesh against flesh could be heard even through the wood.

"Yes my king! Fuck me. Fill me. I am yours.” Delios’ breathy pleas and mewls spilled into the corridors, echoing in your head as you made your way to your quarters. 

Above your bed was the servant’s bell. You glanced at it, content in the knowledge that it would not ring tonight. Delios would keep the king busy well into the morning, and perhaps even the next night. You closed your eyes and welcomed sleep.

But short hours later, the shrill sound of its ringing woke you.

You sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed, slipping the servant’s uniform over yourself.

King Lee’s back faced you as you entered his chamber, broad and like the cream of ivory. Delios was nowhere in sight.

“Remove these sheets, bring new ones,” he ordered.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied. And then without thinking you said, “Delios? Was he not pleasurable?” Your breath caught in your throat as your sleep stupid brain registered what you’d just done. The king whipped around to glare at you. He would be well within jurisdiction to flog you for insolence. His gaze flitted over you, lingered on your face, then trailed down to your uniform. You wanted to kick yourself.

“Not only have you spoken out of turn. But you come to me in ill attire?”

You wrinkled your brow.

“Sir?”

“Your uniform. It is on backwards.”

You flushed in shame, heat rising in your eyes.

“I am sorry, please. It was—”

“Take it off.”

Shock and silence merged to form your panicked expression.

“But my lord I—”

“I will not say it again.” The king fixed his brown eyes on you, burning you through with their intensity. He had never looked at you before— never saw you as he did now. His intent gaze had you shivering.

You stripped and he regarded you for a moment. Decided he liked what was before him.  His hands were on you in an instant, kneading circles against your breasts. He bent and suckled one.

You gasped.

“My l-lord. You mustn’t—”

“Do not presume to command me. You are a servant. Are you not?”

A sheepish nod.

“I am.”

“Then serve me. With your body. For it pleases me—lowly though it may be. Is it not your duty? Your wish?”

Another nod. Your words couldn’t quite find their way out. The king smirked then, plump lips parting in ridicule. You pressed a kiss into them, unable to resist their plush temptation. 

Quickly you drew back, panting and somehow even more shy than you had been. But the king smiled and granted you his tongue. It swirled first along the bud of your nipple, cries escaped you as it puckered under the wet muscle.

King Lee lifted you, transferring your willing body onto his bed and spreading you. He tasted your slick, launching hard sucks around your bundle of nerves.

You could not hold back your whimpers. He paused and looked up at you.

“Do you want more?”

Again all you could manage was a nod.

“Whoever heard of a needy servant girl,” he chided, still licking you, “Very well then, open wider for me, darling.”

You lost count of the hours—of the orgasms. All from his mouth alone. When he had his fill, he flipped you over. The strokes were deep and glorious. The stretch of them sent your eyes rolling back.

“A needy servant with a needier cunt. Tell me, do you like being filled by your king?” A hard slap on your bare cheeks galvanized you to answer.

“Yes!” you cried, still in half disbelief the noble king was bedding you— a lowly servant.

He flipped you onto your back, thrusting into you, eyes holding you in a trance. The roll of his hips drew out your spray. His rhythm was unrelenting and the hot stream of it drenched the king's sculpted abdomen. He pulled out and watched you tremble with the high, rubbing circles onto your clit, drawing out every bit of your release.

“Look at you, fucked to ruins already. I’ve hardly even begun,” he taunted. All you could do was tremble and shudder.

“Please, my lord. No more. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” he echoed, laying beside you, smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I cannot come again. I will pass out. It has been all night.”

“So it has,” he thumbed your bottom lip, biting down on his own. “Well, there is always tomorrow night.”

[venusrising91]

Missing you

Pairing: Just Wonho

Genre: Smut (no plot lol)

Summary: A short, steamy solo session

Word count: 274

He usually never bathed alone. Baths were normally a shared activity. He preferred showers. They were quick, efficient. But you were gone. And he missed you. Terribly. This reminded him of you. His head fell back as he palmed his cock. Smoothing a hand up the length of it as it hardened under the warm water, shaft pressed against his sculpted abs. 

    You always loved hearing him moan. He let out a few soft ones, wishing you were there to hear them. He reconstructed you in his mind’s eye, sparing no detail. Even the soft, barely noticeable freckles that spotted your skin were present. His grip tightened, arm veins bulging, concealed under the rippling water.

    The strokes were slow at first, just how you liked it. But soon he began pumping harder, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he jerked off. He imagined cupping the swell of your breast and nearly lost his load. But he steadied himself. He wanted it to last just a little longer.

    “Fuck”, he whimpered, face scrunched as he drew closer to his peak. He envisioned himself inside of you, between your legs— spread wide as he committed sins between them. This was his favorite way. He loved looking down at you, loved seeing the wreck he made of you, loved cumming deep inside you.

    The thought sent him tumbling over the edge. His orgasm was bliss and a steady stream of milky semen broke free, soiling the bath water. He wished he could have sprayed it inside of your walls instead. Nevertheless he let out a sigh, feeling content, euphoric even. The only thing missing was you.

[venusrising91]

A Chance Encounter

Summary: While waiting in line at your local cafe, a chance encounter with a handsome hunk alters the course of your day.

Pairing: Wonho x Female reader

3k words

*********

You had been staring at the back of his head for the better part of fifteen minutes. He ran his hands through the fluffy, raven tresses each time a group of giddy girls approached him. It seemed like a nervous habit.

The line in the cafe inched at an insufferably slow pace and you were beginning to grow impatient. Suddenly, the caramel, iced coffee that you always picked up during your lunch hour didn’t seem worth all this effort. Any other day you would have been in and out. No more than five minutes, tops. It was never this packed inside. What the fuck was going on today?

You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms before craning your neck to peer towards the front of the line. You had to stand on the tips of your toes to see past the tall, burly stranger’s wide shoulders. You spotted another gaggle of girls making their way towards the man in front of you. They’d been the fourth group so far. Just what the hell is—

The thought was cut short as you lost balance and let out a screech, arms flailing as you tried to regain your footing. Your panic drew the stranger’s attention and he whipped around in time to grab hold of your arm.

“Got you,” he said, gazing down into your eyes as he steadied you.

All of the attention he’d been receiving suddenly made sense. His ivory skin was smooth and unblemished— a face with features that could rival any model. Even the ones that make the front cover of magazines. The stranger smiled at you, still peering down through half crescent moons as your heart began to race.

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered, hoping he couldn’t hear how hard your heart thumped against your chest. His plush, pink lips parted to reveal a smile— an enchanting display of the most perfect pearly whites you’d ever seen. You tore your eyes away from them to look down at your arm, which he still held fast to, his grasp firm. He might have been a stranger to you but he was obviously no stranger to the gym. The vascularity of his hands alone sent a wave of throbs surging through your core. It had been so long since anyone touched you.

“Oh my god it’s really you! We love you so much. We’re like your biggest fans,” squealed one of the girls that had flocked around him. He withdrew his hand and ran it through his hair sheepishly, leaving you breathless.

“I appreciate that,” he said as he turned his attention to the near hysterical group of girls as they encased him. He flashed a smile at them and a collective swoon erupted.

“Can we take a photo together?” asked one of the young women. He acquiesced and posed for photo after photo until each of them had acquired their own pictorial souvenir.

“Thank you ladies, see you at the concert tonight,” he said, prompting them to disperse.

“We’ll be in the front row Wonho oppa! Can’t wait. Fighting!” exclaimed one of the fans, grinning broadly as she backed away. The famous stranger focused his attention back on you.

“Sorry about that. Occupational hazard. I’m Wonho by the way,” he said as he extended his hand.

A large, warm palm enveloped yours. The contact, coupled with his gentle shake, sent shivers across the surface of your skin. You steeled yourself before replying in an attempt to conceal how nervous you were.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you said meekly.

“That’s a beautiful name. Almost as beautiful as you are.”

Your heart fluttered and a small giggle escaped you. Beautiful? Me?

“Something funny?” said Wonho, his lips curving up into a lazy half smile.

“No, it’s just, well. It’s not everyday that I get complimented by a celebrity is all.”

“Who said I was a celebrity?”

“Well, you— all those girls, I- I just assumed,” you stammered.

“I’m just a singer. I’ve always hated that word, celebrity. It sounds— I dunno. It’s just not a word I’d use to describe myself. I prefer— "

“Oh my god, there he is!” interjected a high pitched voice. Just then another group of girls had swarmed around him, the largest one yet. Wonho entertained them dutifully, the charming smile never leaving his lips. Group after group of eager fans approached him in quick succession. The commotion distracted you and before you’d realized it, the slow moving line had finally advanced. Wonho ordered at the counter in the midst of the frenzy, toggling between posing for pics with each of his enthusiasts. They lingered around him as he completed his transaction and then trailed after him when he left the establishment. Outside a bodyguard ushered him into a vehicle.

When it was finally your turn, you recited your usual request and fished for your credit card, extending it to the barista in a haze. Instead of swiping it she waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head.

“No need. The gentlemen in front of you already paid for your order. He left this for you too,” she said as she handed you a napkin.Your eyes widened as you stared down at it and found a phone number, accompanied by a note.

“I want to see you again. Please text me if you feel the same. I hope you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you read it.

********

You spent the remainder of your Friday afternoon texting Wonho between work calls at the office. He told you he’d be performing tonight at a nearby venue and offered you free tickets with backstage VIP access. You accepted and he said he’d arrange for his bodyguard to pick you up from your apartment.

After work you rushed home, where you showered and changed into something sexy— your favorite form fitting dress that hugged your curves just right. The bodyguard arrived in a sleek, black SUV. The ride felt like a blur as your mind clouded over with sinful fantasies of the beautiful stranger. You were jolted back to reality once the vehicle stopped and your door was opened. The stoic bodyguard escorted you inside the concert hall through a concealed side entrance, then led you to your seat— front row, near the side of the stage.

“I’ll be back once the show’s over to take you backstage,” said the bodyguard.

You nodded and he sauntered away, leaving you alone in the hall. You hadn’t expected to be the first one inside. You thought for sure the place would be packed with screaming fans already. You pulled out your phone to double check if you had the right time.

“Hey, Y/N,” came a familiar voice. You whipped your head up to find Wonho making his way towards you. He was half naked, wearing only a pair of shorts. It was all you could do to keep your jaw from dropping. He was built like an olympian god.

“Hey again,” you replied, fighting to keep your eyes from ogling every inch of his perfectly sculpted body.

“I’m so glad you came. The doors open for the show in about ten minutes. I’m supposed to be getting changed right now but I wanted to see you first. You look stunning, even more beautiful than I remember.”

“Thank you. I could say the same thing about you,” you replied, blushing.

“So say it,” said Wonho, flashing you his charming smile. You let out a giggle.

“Oh come on, you don’t need little old me to tell you that you’re gorgeous. I bet you’ve had dozens of fangirls telling you that all day.”

“But I want to hear it coming from you, baby. I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. I’m usually not this forward but you make me feel so at home. We only just met but there’s something about you. Feels like I’ve known you for a while,” he said as he inched closer to you and grabbed hold of your hand. He caressed it tenderly while gazing into your eyes. He stood so close that you could smell his cologne— Tom Ford, fucking fabulous.

“That’s so funny, I feel exactly the same way,” you whispered in reply, breathing in his intoxicating aroma as he drew nearer. It was true. You’d never connected with anyone the way you did with him. The conversation exchanged via texts earlier in the day had flowed like water. You'd learned alot about one another in the short span of time.

"I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you," cooed Wonho. "Can I kiss you?"

Normally, you’d never allow things to move so fast. But then again there was nothing normal about the adonis who stood before you. In fact there was nothing normal about this day at all. This was a once in a lifetime chance encounter. You weren’t about to let it pass you by. Your last relationship ended nearly three years ago. You’d been alone ever since. You longed for someone, even went on a few dates. But no one seemed to measure up, until now. And you wanted him, even if it was only for one night.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you replied, bringing your lips to his. First kisses are usually coy, demure, delicate. Not this one. Your wet muscles met in a delicious dance of licentiousness, swirling around one another in sweet sin. Wonho was devouring you, and you were more than willing to let him consume every bit of you. He held your face with one hand while the other trailed up the length of your torso, stopping at your breast. He massaged circles against it before cupping it aggressively, eliciting a needy moan from you.

“Seven minutes before curtains, wardrobe is losing their shit. Let’s go!” boomed a voice from an overhead speaker.

You drew back from him, disentangling yourself from his greedy embrace. His dark, lust filled eyes surveyed you longingly.

“You taste so good. Really wish I didn’t have to go right now but I gotta get ready to perform. Can we finish this later? In private?”

“Private?” you asked.

“I’m staying at the Four Seasons nearby. I can have my driver take you there after the show. That way we can be alone, just the two of us, all night,” he said with a devious smirk.

You pretended to mull it over in your head but your mind had been made up from the very moment the words left his mouth. You wanted nothing more than to be under him, over him, destroyed by him.

“Okay, sure. Sounds good,” you said, trying to play it cool, as if your insides weren’t teeming with butterflies at the mere thought of sharing a hotel room with the biggest hunk you've ever met.

“Perfect. I’ll make sure my driver comes and gets you once the concert is over,” said Wonho as he slowly backed away, biting his bottom lip as he took you in. “Enjoy the show.”

He gave you a wink and you smiled while you watched him jog away and vanish behind the stage. Shortly after, the venue began filling up. Soon it was jam packed with hundreds of his adoring fans. They shouted and screamed at the top of their lungs, belting out the lyrics to every song he performed.

You’d never heard any of them before tonight but so far you were vibing with each one. He was a great dancer too. You had an amazing view and you looked on in awe as he worked the stage like a seasoned virtuoso. Every so often you would catch his gaze. He held it in the midst of carrying out beautiful notes and choreography. At times you felt as though he was singing to you and you alone.

During his final set, the stoic bodyguard reappeared. He motioned for you to follow him. You did so and he made a way for the two of you to slink through the thick crowd. He guided you outdoors and led you into the sleek SUV once again.

“Wonho has to finish up with the backstage meet and greet. He’d like you to wait for him at the hotel, he won’t be long,” said the bodyguard from the front seat. He reached back and handed you a small plastic key card. You stared down at it as the car pulled off, smiling as you began daydreaming of what was to come. The drive took around twenty minutes and your heart skipped a beat when the vehicle stopped to let you out. You made to open the door but paused midway. You cleared your throat and sucked in a deep breath.

“Does he do this often? With other girls?” you asked in a small voice. The bodyguard turned in his seat to face you.

“No, never. First time he’s ever done anything like this actually. Hell if I was his age and had his looks...nevermind. To be honest I didn’t think he had it in him. Most of the famous people I’ve worked for in the past do this kind of thing with someone new nearly every night. Not him though. Been with him for two years, never any funny business. He's a nice young man. Always been polite to me anyway. Seems to like you alot too.”

The answer sent a wave of contentment over you and a smile slowly spread across your lips.

“Thank you for your honesty, and for everything else. You’ve been a great help,” you said.

He nodded and bid you farewell as you exited the automobile. Trembling legs carried you into the hotel lobby and by the time you arrived at the room your nerves were a complete wreck. You talked yourself down in the bathroom mirror and then freshened up. When you were finally calm, a knock at the door caused your heart rate to shoot back up. You pressed your face against the door and looked through the peephole.

Wonho stood on the other side and you took a deep breath before swinging the door open. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, sensuously pulling you into a hug, enveloping you in his muscular arms.

“I’ve been thinking about this moment all night, baby,” he whispered. Wonho brought his lips to yours and hesitated. “May I?”

You nodded, allowing your lips to brush against his. In an instant Wonho’s warm mouth was attacking yours, tongue swirling in spirals of passion. When he had his fill, he pulled away from you, breathless, eyeing you up and down like a man starved. The kiss left you a wet, dripping mess. So much so that by the time he’d shed his clothes, you nearly came from the mere sight of his erection. What a perfect fucking cock. Thick, long, hard. You wanted him on you, in you. Sensing this, he had you out of your dress in seconds.

“I can’t wait to feel you cum all over me,” he purred as he whisked you off your feet and laid you on the bed. He slid a condom over his girth and spread your legs. Wonho positioned the head of his rock hard penis at your entrance, gazing down to check your expression.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. He wasted no time sliding into your wet, needy orifice. He fit inside you like a glove. His features contorted in pleasure as he gave you deep, long strokes. Each thrust drew out a moan that was louder than the last.

“This pussy feels so good, Y/N. You're wrapping around me so tight, like you were made for me. Just for me, baby,” he growled, punctuating every word with a glorious thrust, reaching the unexplored depths of your cunt. “You like that? Hmmm, baby?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes. Just like that,” you cried.

“Look how well you take it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel, princess.”

“You f-feel, s-so good. So good, Wonho.

He swallowed your moans, lips entangled in yours as he kissed you in between each deep stroke.

“You look so fucking pretty with my dick inside you. You know that?”

He quickened his pace, pounding you harder and harder, hips rolling into you with impeccable rhythm. Your body was his instrument and he played it like an expert. His hard length touched spots that you never knew existed until he was hitting them. He repositioned himself while still inside of you, placing his thumb over your clit. Wonho began rubbing circles against your sensitive bud.

“Oh my god. Right there. Right there, baby. Don’t stop,” you gasped, nearly in tears from the pleasure. Wonho worked you even harder, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy as his body grinded into yours. His digit caressed your bundle of nerves with delicious intensity while his thick cock penetrated you over and over.

With a scream you met your release, squirting your juices all over his rigid member. Wonho’s brows knit together as he watched you spray, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He fucked you through your high and you came again, heaving and writhing under him. The sight of you wrecked sent him soaring over the cliff of euphoria, where he found his orgasm. He twitched inside of you as you massaged circles onto his back, calming him as he emptied his ejaculate into the condom, cock buried deep inside you.

Afterwards, he lay atop you, face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as he rode out his high. He whimpered soft moans into your ear while remnants of his peak still rippled through him. You ran your hands through his hair for a while as you held onto one another, bonded. Wonho peppered you with tender kisses, lulling you into tranquility by kneading your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, how about we go on a proper date sometime?” he said with a smile.