Horny

Horny

Short imagine: Jungkook

Warning: sexual content

You knew, Jungkook had work at his office. But you were too horny to care about this.

You sent to him some pictures with you naked and you wrote “I’m waiting, daddy”.

You knew he will be frustrated, but this will help you so much, you only want him to be rough.

You heard when he came. You can heard the footsteps.

You were still naked. You can see the boner in his pants

“You are a dirty whore” Jungkook says

He spared your legs and pushed his face between them.

He began to eat you out, he knew it was the thing you’ve been waiting all day.

dom!reader x sub!jungkook sexting

⇒ requested by anon: Fem!reader x jk sexting? Explicit yet sweet at the same time. She’s slightly older than him tho so maybe a noona and mommy kink. And calls him 🐇 lol. Both are switches but she leans towards dom while he’s more sub. Thank you!

the following content is for mature minds only ;)

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ignore the time at the very top, look at the one under it <3

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ᴋᴘᴏᴘ ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ sᴍᴜᴛs 2.0 (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/UiNb/QzkXYKBgzI Another collection of my shitty Kpop mommy/ femdom smuts because shitpad hates me and deleted my other book :')

Ice Ice, Baby // Park Jimin X Reader

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Warnings: Sub Jimin, Femdom, Masturbating, Slapping, Degradation, Crying, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink etc

Summary: Jimin was your baby boy who you loved to dress up… 

Authors Note: Submitted by Anonymous

You looked down at your boyfriend and felt a slow smile conquer your ordinarily placid features. A delicate blush dusted his cheeks and ears, coloring him all the way down his neck and chest. He was kneeling on the hardwood floor of your room, eyes trained on his lap where his hands lay balled into fists. Diamonds adorned his body, an act you’d proposed after seeing his concept photos. At first you’d thought nothing of them, but the seed had been planted. For the weeks that had passed after, you found yourself scrutinizing his skin wondering just how lovely he’d look. You had bet Jimin would look amazing. You were right.

It was winter, so the sun had set around three or four, leaving you two more than ten hours of complete darkness and the accompanying solitude, but the red and blue neon lights that were mounted on your wall cast Jimin in an ethereal glow. A warmth stirred in the pit of your stomach. A thin eighteen-carat white gold diamond studded choker fit snugly ‘round his pretty neck. Dancers usually had long shapely necks and Jimin was no exception. You settled for studs on all his ear piercings, not wanting to go overboard, but they contrasted his slicked back ebony hair so nicely. A few strands rebelled, hanging over his brow wetly. You reached out and tucked it behind his ear, not missing the sharp intake of breath as you did. The sound, so light and airy, drew your gaze toward his face. It was tense, a mixture of anticipation and lust. That look was for you, even if his expression was glued submissively to the floor, and it sent fire up and down your spine. Jimin’s eyes, always so stunning, were smoked out, drawing out the deepness of the brown irises. There were spangles around his upper arms which, though defined, had slimmed in size because of his most recent diet. The reminder caused a slight wrinkle between your eyebrows before it relaxed. You’d address that later.

There was a chain of diamond around his slim waist Lastly, but most certainly not least, was the studded diamond garter. It wrapped around his left leg twice, first dripping with icy tones between the crease of his hip and tucked below his buttock, then again on the swell of his thigh. Pretty, you thought. Then you repeated yourself, this time aloud, “so pretty, Jiminie.” He didn’t answer. It wasn’t a question. Pleased, you bent to his level and grabbed his chin to force him to face you. Your nails painted black, dug into his cheeks, forcing his plump lips apart slightly. Obedient, his eyes averted yours, instead looking over your left shoulder. He wasn’t allowed to look you in the eye unless you said, wasn’t allowed to move until you gave the okay. If you told him to hold his breath, Jimin would. That amount of control was beyond intoxicating, but it could also be too much. Sometimes, you’d find yourself taking breaks periodically, not wanting to get carried away. You loved him. Safety came first.

 “So pretty, Jiminnie,” you repeated once again, “lookin’ so good all iced up.” He remained still, but his breaths quickened harshly through his parted lips, causing the flat and firm expanse of his abdomen to rise and fall. You watched as Jimin tried to regain his composer, forcing himself to breathe through his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “You going somewhere, Jimin?” you snapped, giving his jaw a shake, “open your eyes.” Immediately, his eyes opened.

You kissed him, pressed your lips chastely at first before you heard the low whine emit from Jimin’s chest. Giving in, you removed your iron grip from his face, looking on in delight at the imprints you left on his skin before moving to a significantly gentler grip on his throat and continuing your kiss. This time, you licked into his mouth, enjoying the kitten-like mewls and gasps that Jimin couldn’t control. You could get drunk just kissing him. His lips were soft and plush, tongue and mouth warm, wet, and inviting.

Beneath your hand, you could feel his pulse thundering. Smiling against him, you moved away, trailing kisses along his cheek down to his jaw and finally meeting it’s mark by the piercings along the shell of his ear. Jimin gave a loud and high pitched sigh. Encouraged, you took your other hand and buried it in his hair, giving a firm tug. Jimin’s reaction was impulsive, making a sound somewhere between a dry sob and moan, hands jumping to your waist.

The moment Jimin’s hand made contact with you, you pulled back, ramping up your grip in his scalp to excruciating, your hand around his throat squeezing just shy of a throttle, and bringing his face and intimidating centimeters from your own. His hands returned to his lap as if burned. Jimin winced, struggling to avoid eye contact. “Did you disobey me, Jimin?” you hissed, voice barely audible. Somehow, that was more terrifying than if you’d yelled. Jimin tried to swallow, voice crackling like paper as he tried to breathe.

“M’sorry,” he whispered, lisping slightly. You laughed, the sound cruel and foreign to your ears. Sweat broke out along Jimin’s upper lip and forehead. “Sorry–” he tried again, but was cut off by you striking him across the face. It knocked the wind from him it seemed and his hands darted to his cheek.  “What did we say about keeping your hands to yourself?” He didn’t answer, taking small shaky breaths with his eyes closed, hands still pressing to his reddening face. Nasty, you gripped his wrists and yanked them away only to strike at his face again. “Keep your hands down,” you growled. The third slap was harder, the aftershocks stinging your palm and it ripped a sob from Jimin’s chest.

His hands hovered midway between his lap and face before dropping. Jimin cried in uncontrolled sobs, he did his best to restrain the noise by biting his lower lip but it didn’t work. Unsure, you waited for him to stop crying. When thirty seconds ticked by, you eased your hold on him to run your fingers through his hair. You hoped if Jimin was overwhelmed he’d state his safeword, but you couldn’t be sure. So you asked, “Can you handle this, Jimin? You want to stop?” He sniffed, shaking his head but still averting his eyes. “Look at me,” you encouraged, retracting all contact.

You didn’t want to reassert your dominant role until you were positive he was okay to continue. Hesitant, Jimin lifted his eyes to yours. “I want it,” he whispered hoarsely, then clearing his throat, Jimin repeated firmly, “I want it.”

“Safeword?”

“Pancake.”

“Promise to say it if you feel uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to stop slapping you?”

His eyes widened, head shaking frantically, “N-no, I like it. Please, don’t stop.” You stroked his cheek affectionately, “okay, baby.” He leaned into your touch with a watery smile.

Getting to your feet, you took a small walk around the room. Steadily you inhaled and exhaled to pull yourself back into character. Your stilettoes clicked sexily as you moved. You focused on the sound, straightening your back and letting your hips sway. In a gold gilded mirror across the room, you could see Jimin pretending to look away. You smirked, letting Jimin get away with it. He was watching your reflection hungrily, still hiccuping, hands discreetly hiding his erection.

You returned to your place before him. “You can look at me.” Cautious, Jimin’s eyes raised to you. He did it slowly, taking in your heels, the shapely legs encased in stockings and the black lingerie, right up to your breasts, along the collarbone, and stopping at your neck. Tongue licking his lips, he hesitated.

“Do you have a question?” You asked. He nodded. “Words,” you demanded. “Yes, Daddy.” You wanted to grin, loving the name. It was a kink that not many engaged in, but you were both into it. “What is it?” you asked. “C-can I look at your face?” “You want to look at Daddy’s face?” Jimin nodded before catching himself, “yes, please, Daddy.” “Aw, how polite,” you cooed as you approached Jimin. You crouched before him. “Yes,” you allowed, “you can.” He raised his gaze, mouth falling slightly agape. “So, pretty,” he breathed. “You think so, baby-boy?” You didn’t listen to his response, rounding him and returning to a crouch behind him so he had to look in the mirror to see you. Your nails danced up his spine and along his shoulders. You bit his earlobe, “I think you’re pretty, Jiminnie.”  He blushed harder, breath stuttering as your hands found his hair. You murmured against him, “Say, ‘thank you, daddy’.” “Thank you, daddy,” he parroted. “Good boy,” you complimented.

A smile flickered across his features. Humming into his ear, your hand slid across his chest and down his tight flat abdomen and lower until it came to his hands which you swatted away to get to his cock. It was red and weeping for attention. At first, you rubbed it with an open palm like you would a pussy. He squirmed but otherwise remained still. Then, having mercy, you gripped the appendage.  “Daddy,” Jimin groaned as you closed it in your fist. You pressed your right hand to his mouth, “suck them.” He opened his mouth and you pressed your fingers right to the back of his throat. Jimin gurgled and coughed, but obediently slurped and sucked on the digits.

“You daddy’s little slut?” you taunted, nearly forcing your whole hand into his mouth. Jimin gagged body bowing under the force. Then he whined, nodding his head. “Let me hear you, baby,” you urged moving your hand to give him some room to breathe, “say it.” “‘M dah-de lilluh,” he choked around you. “Wish I had a cock,” you mourned, “you look so good like this, Jiminie.” He didn’t answer except to continue taking your fingers deeper. You gave an experimental tug on his cock, groaning yourself at the response it elicited. His hips bucked into your hand and tears slipped freely down his cheeks. Feeling a sadistic wave crash through your body, you forced your hand down his throat as deep as it could. He gagged violently, hands reaching up to grip your wrist. You released his cock to grab him and force his hands, crisscrossed over each other to his stomach.

Jimin struggled, now crying freely. You hushed and pushed against him, “Hands down, hands down. I’m not letting up until you do. Pinch me if you really can’t take it.”  After a moment of Jimin’s attempt at keeping still, you let up slightly. You took the handful of saliva that had collected on your hand and let it drip over his chin and neck, wiping the rest on his cringing face, smearing the makeup. He coughed and spluttered. “Such a mess!” you exclaimed in mock surprise. Jimin leaned forward, hands on the floor with tilted his head forward, the air wetly rattling around as he panted. “No, no,” you scolded, grabbing Jimin by the hair and pulling him back to sit up straight. “Back to position, Jiminnie. Good boy. Now, touch yourself.” He moved quickly, aching for relief. “Not like that,” you corrected, “touch it like you would touch a pussy.”

The man moaned, trembling at your words and complied. Hips grinding and hand rubbing, Jimin continued to cry. You grinned. His makeup was smeared and running down his face, hair a mess, standing at all angles, his cheeks a bright red from exertion as he cried uncontrollably. At the rate he was pleasuring himself, you knew Jimin would come soon. You ran your hand along his thin waist. So pretty. “Feels good?” you asked. “Uh huh,” was all he could manage.  “Look at my face, baby.” He did, mouth open allowing each and every sound to escape. “Daddy,” he whined. “What is it, sweetheart?” “Want–need you to–,” he choked on his own saliva as it steadily continued to drip from his slick lips. You tweaked his nipples, enjoying the cry as he reacted. “You need me to what, hm?” “N-need you to-ah to hit me.” “Mhm?” You struck, light with your fingertips. Jimin rubbed at his cock with renewed vigor and it fueled a dark desire in you as you pulled your hand all the way back and slapped him once again, hard enough to knock him onto his side. Jimin convulsed, curling in on himself as he came with a stuttered gasp onto the floor.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Crossing over to him, you gave his hair another tug, not giving him enough time to come down from his high. “Get up.” “D-Daddy,” he protested tearily, “I can’t.” “No?” You let him fall to the floor, the toe of your shoe pressing to the tip of his oversensitive cock. He cried out squirming, “Daddy! Please!” “What? You can’t? Or does my slut need more?” “But my cock hurts!” he squeaked.

You lifted some of the weight off, leaning on your heel, “say so and we’ll be done.” Jimin was caught in between. It felt too good to stop now. Taking his silence as negative you removed your foot. “Fine, we’re done.” “No!” he cried, immediately bursting into tears. “I’ll be good! I can be a good boy! Let me try again. I can be good,” he babbled. “Then get up,” you snarled behind gritted teeth. He rose on shaking hands and knees, twitching, the jewelry clinking delicately as he moved. You moved across the room to a mattress that lay on the floor. “Come here,” you barked. As he started to struggle to his feet, you snapped again, “no. Crawl.”

You were nowhere near done.

Masterlist

soonyoung in bed

a switch

a mean

did you see how he goes from

sweet baby boy

to the baddest ever

make outs are either him on top or you on his lap

if he lets you suck in his neck

and lets a out a whine

you know you’re in charge tonight

into overstimulation

both giving and receiving

wants to see how much he can take

whines a lot when he subs

whines get louder and louder the more he gets desperate

don’t even think about using toys tho

not really into that for himself

loves handjobs

so like imagine one night he’s the sub

and you give him a hand job

and stop when he’s about to come

and then you ride him

and as you’re about to deny his second orgasm

he begs

“i’ve been good, please”

and he sounds so wrecked ?

bye

if you don’t let him cum

get ready

he’ll get revenge next time he tops

smooth transition to dom soonyoung

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Favourites and Servants - Taehyung

MASTERLIST

Genre: Smut, cathybrid!AU

Word count: 2.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Warnings: rated M, sexual content, oral, language, cat/human hybrid

A/N: part of cathybrid!BTS miniseries!

others: Yoongi   |   Jimin

© original picture by V_Maider

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