Lol Robots Dont Need Titties!!

lol robots don’t need titties!!

Unlucky Thirteen

Request

Summary: Your anniversary is supposed to be special, celebrating many years of love shared, memories made, but this year is proving to be a little more difficult.

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: Lee Junho x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Restraints, Choking, Unprotected Sex.

Thirteen years. Thirteen years to this very day, since you met the man you eventually married three years later. Thirteen years since you met and fell head over heels with your now husband, Lee Junho.

You had spent the day packing, organising the last pieces that needed to be, for your trip away to celebrate this milestone. Junho, of course, had not. As usual, he was holed up in his home-studio, working on new music, wanting to get, in his words, just one song done, before your joint week abroad.

You weren’t mad…

Okay, maybe you were a little mad.

Or a lot.

Yeah, okay… you were very mad.

Junho had woken up before you, and he had locked the office door shut, not coming out for the entire day. At this point, you had all but decided that he had completely forgotten about your anniversary, or that he had remembered, and simply didn’t care.

It is hard to rationalise with yourself, you know that you are not flying out until tomorrow, but you had hoped that Junho would have wanted to spend the day with you still. You have the suitcases lined up by the front door, ready to wheel out to the taxi when it arrives tomorrow morning. The house is clean, a house-sitter has been organised to come stay tomorrow and look after the cats, and you are ready to relax now.

———

“Yeobo,” You sigh, resting your head against the studio door as you knock gently, “Are you almost done?”

It has come and passed dinner time, you had managed to find some leftover noodles in the refrigerator for yourself to eat, though Junho still had not left the studio. You can hear him, although the room is soundproof, the muffled noise escaping through the gap between the floor and the door.

You hear nothing in response, though a moment later you jump back as the door that you were leaning on opens. Your husband stands in front of you, looking both frustrated and dishevelled, his shirt unbuttoned halfway, his hair a little messy, and your head spins as you try to remember what you were waiting for.

“Baby,” He sighs, “I’m so busy.”

Try as you might, you can’t help the pitiful whine that leaves your lips, tilting your head back to try and compose yourself. You know that he hates your whinging, but you truly have not got the energy to hold it in anymore.

“You’ve been in there all day,” You mumble, “Is it really that important?”

Junho grits his teeth, and you question whether your tone was a little brattier than you had meant it to be. He takes a second to reply to you, raising his brow as he looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“You know not to interrupt me,” He murmurs, “And you know that my work is important.”

Your heart drops, the tone of his voice is dark, frustrated, you have only heard it like this a handful of times before. You try your hardest, always, to be on your best behaviour, only acting out when you are extra needy, and clearly that is exactly where you are at right now.

“I’m sorry, oppa,” You reply in your sweetest aegyo, knowing full well how much Junho hates when you try to get out of trouble by being cute, “But aren’t I important too?”

Junho steps forward, and you instinctively step back, trying to get away. Your back hits the wall behind you, and you watch fearfully as your husband takes another step towards you. You realise quickly, that you should not have pushed it, that you should have taken him seriously, and as his gaze darkens, he makes you feel so small in front of him.

“Of course you are,” He replies, “But I promised Chan I’d have this song done today.”

You are silent now, as you stare up at him in front of you, too nervous to say another word. You know him well enough though, to know that you have to reply, so you muster up all of your courage to speak.

“I’m sorry,” You apologise again, “You can go back and finish if you need, I don’t mind.”

It is a lie. You do mind, you don’t want to spend the rest of the evening waiting for him to leave the office, only to come to bed and fall asleep straight away, like you know that he would.

“I won’t be doing that,” He shakes his head, “You’ve distracted me, baby, I can’t work anymore.”

Guilt washes over you, and you worry about the outcome of this. Junho is a perfectionist, more than any man you know, and a delay in his work is never a good thing for him. You are in trouble, and there is no way you are getting out of this now.

“What do you need me to do?” You stutter, flinching as he lifts his arm up, placing his hand flat against the wall next to your head, “I’ll do anything, yeobo, you know I will.”

He smirks at you, and you know that you are done for. Though you are not shy to admit to yourself that you wanted him like this, you love it when he gets mad at you, when he is pent up, frustrated, and you are his source of release.

“Oh, I know,” He smiles at you, “You’ll be good to me tonight, you always are.”

Straight to the point as usual, you are more than ready for what Junho has in store for you. He never disappoints, especially if you have infuriated him beforehand. You try to maintain eye contact, but you look down momentarily, to see his hand on his belt buckle, and you gulp as you lift your gaze again, to see that his eyes are darker than they were before.

His movements are quick, too fast for your brain to comprehend as with one hand he grabs your wrists and holds them together, and the other unhooks and rips out his belt from the loops. You can’t say no, or protest, you only watch on as he easily wraps the leather around your wrists, pulling it back through the buckle to tie it together.

“Yeobo,” You whimper, “Please…”

Junho laughs, shaking his head at you, before tugging you closer to him, and away from the wall. You have to be quick on your feet to keep up with his much larger strides, and you have no choice but to obey him, as he leads you up the stairs towards your bedroom.

“It’s too late for that, sweetheart,” He murmurs, opening the bedroom door, “You don’t get to try and pretend that you don’t want this.”

You stifle a scream as he pushes you backwards onto the mattress. With your hands tied in front of you, you are unable to support your fall, landing flat on your back, you are reminded again that you are at his complete mercy. Though he is right of course, you want this, you love being his target, having his full attention, no matter what that means for you.

Transfixed, you watch as he effortlessly unbuttons his shirt, allowing the material to fall off his shoulders, and down his arms to the floor. You admire his body, desperately trying to use your core strength to sit yourself up, reaching out to touch him. Junho laughs at you again, though he takes your wrists, unbuckling the belt to free you.

You try to pull him closer, but with a stern look from your husband, you stop yourself, and remain still as he pulls your sweater up over your head, leaving your top half exposed. Of course, you should have known that he would not free you for long, as he guides you further up the bed, only to pin your wrists together against the metal bedhead, looping the belt through once more to secure you.

Junho leans down to kiss you softly, chuckling as you whine, tugging on your restraints as you try to free yourself. The way that his bare skin feels on yours is electric, your head is spinning and he has not even really touched you yet.

“Are you gonna tell me what you want, baby?” He asks you, his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, but he moves back before you can react at all.

You don’t hide the confused look on your face, but the pieces come together for you in your head, and you realise that you had not made a request, you had not told Junho why you had interrupted him from his music.

The brat in you is insatiable, unable to stop yourself, you close your eyes, smiling as you shake your head. He is going to have to force the words out of you, as you would never willingly admit that all you wanted was his attention, not a chance.

Once again, you can only watch, as he trails his fingers down your neck, your chest, your stomach to the elastic waistband of the leggings you are wearing. You writhe under his touch as he kisses where his fingers have been, paying close attention to your breasts, massaging one while his mouth works the other, teasing your nipple between his teeth before swapping to give the other the same treatment.

You hate that you can’t touch him, desperately wrapping your legs around his, pulling him as close to you as he will allow. Your wrists hurt from pulling on the belt, but you don’t stop trying, earning whines and pleas for freedom as Junho further undresses you. You can see that he is hard, too, and he is not afraid to show it, the button of his slacks undone from the pressure, as he works to tug your leggings down and off you.

“Baby,” He murmurs, fingers gently pressed to your core, though your panties are in the way, “You need to tell me… I can’t help you unless you tell me.”

You want to resist some more, but his touch, his closeness, it is too much, it is always too much. You are not strong enough, you can’t help yourself anymore, you will give in, any second now, you are going to give in.

“Daddy, please,” You whine, watching his eyes light up as he stares at you, “I need you. I need you to fuck me, it hurts…”

Junho smiles at you, as his fingers hook into the elastic waistband of your panties, you allow him to tear them from you, only slightly ashamed as you see your arousal stringing from the fabric when he throws it away.

“Oh, sweet baby,” He coos, his tone so condescending, as he moves to pull his own pants down, “You need Daddy’s help, huh?”

You hate the way that his words make you even needier, it is pathetic, the way that you nod enthusiastically, your legs kicking impatiently as you wait for him to join you again. You admire the man that you married, his perfect body, defined abs, and that fucking v-line that leads directly to the… part that you want the most.

“Daddy’s so hard,” You observe, your words a little slurred as you stare at him, mentally preparing for what you know he will give you, “Please fuck me, I promise I’ll be good.”

Junho positions himself between your legs, as you willingly oblige him, spreading yourself further in hopes that he will not resist for long. Though he does not do as you hoped, leaning back as he wraps one hand around his cock, the other moving to touch you, dripping wet and throbbing already.

He enters you slowly, with only his middle finger, your back arching for more instantly. Your wrists ache from the way that you pull on them, watching your husband touch himself as he touches you is pure torture. One finger moves to two without warning, and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“More, more, please,” You beg, “I need you. Daddy, come on… don’t tease me...”

You swear that you could cry, although he makes you feel good, you want more, you need the stretch that his cock gives you when he fills you up. Junho exaggerates his moans, guttural and deep as he strokes himself, as his thumb presses to your clit and his fingers curl inside you, it is bliss, but it is not enough.

Junho mimics you, closing his eyes and smiling sweetly as he shakes his head, his fingers work a little harder, faster, it leaves you breathless. Your words are caught in your throat, you want to beg, but all sense is gone, you are defeated, broken, and you know that it is nowhere near over.

You know that you are close, and you are sure that Junho feels it too, as he loosens his grip on his cock, to focus solely on you. He leans forward, close enough for you to feel his breath on your lips, but just too far for you to be able to reach him. You can’t help the tears that form in your eyes, as pleasure overwhelms you, and your orgasm rips through your body.

“Fuck!” You cry, as Junho continues at the same speed and rhythm, despite the overstimulation he is causing, “Enough, Daddy, I wanna touch you, please!”

Your desperation is met with his own, as he pulls his fingers out, and moves to thrust straight into you instead. You were not ready, although you are dripping wet, the stretch still stings as Junho gives you no reprieve. His moans are low and breathy, the intensity is so high, as he takes from you like you deserve.

You open your eyes again, as Junho presses his forehead to yours, and you cannot stop him as he wraps his pretty hand around your neck. The gentle press of his fingertips into the sides has you swimming, vision blurry as you only watch on.

It is in moments like this that you are reminded that in the bedroom you are nothing but a toy for him, to use and play with however he desires. It is always rough, sometimes more than others, but you like it best that way. You like feeling his fingernails as they dig into your skin. You love feeling your cervix bruise with every thrust harder into you. It drives you fucking crazy, being everything that he wants, as he fills every one of your desires too.

You lose track of time, cock-drunk as your husband fucks you, though you know that you are close, and you are certain that Junho can feel it too. The way that your body clenches has Junho moaning louder, leaning in to kiss you as he gains in on his peak. You can’t control yourself anymore, but your husband doesn’t deny you either, helping you over the edge with eager thrusts.

Your words are surely incomprehensible, barely able to make out his name as you moan into his mouth, arms aching as you still try desperately to free yourself. Though Junho finally does exactly that, releasing his grip around your throat to instead reach up and unhook the belt buckle, the leather falling down behind the bed as your arms collapse on the mattress.

You are exhausted, as Junho finally releases, your body aches, but the feeling of him inside you makes it all so worth it. His praises, the way that he stares down at you as his movements slow, make it all so worth it.

“I love you,” Junho murmurs, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

It takes a moment for your head to clear enough to process, and when it does, your jaw drops. The expression must have been obvious, as Junho bursts into laughter, earning yet another stare from you.

“You didn’t think I had forgotten, really?” He asks, “Ya! I would never forget the best day of my life… or our vacation planned.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, leaning up to kiss Junho sweetly, before he pulls away only to reach over your head to take your hands in his. Your wrists are red, raw, and painful, and you laugh as you think about what you can wear to cover them as they heal.

Junho massages your wrists softly, making sure that the pain is not too bad for you, and that you are fine, which you reassure him of. You forget completely that you were even upset at him in the first place, as once more you are reminded that you are the centre of his universe, just as he is of yours.

FUCK MY PUSSY WITH A RAKE MOM

This might be my favorite performance!

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eu to genuinamente em choque, o channie-------------------------------

2PM: Giving Oral (NSFW)

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