Need A Helping Hand

need a helping hand 😏

BRAINROTTTSUSUJE 🫠🫠😫

No you don’t get it… crawling into boyfriend! Taehyun’s lap while he’s on call with Yeonjun and teasing him with your lips would be so fun <33 he’s stuttering into the call and half-heartedly pushing you off his lap while you’re licking a slow, purposeful stripe up his neck. Kissing his wet skin, biting it too just to make his breath hitch. And Yeonjun has no clue… Taehyun his biting his lip when you start biting fresh strawberries into his skin, completely ignoring Yeonjun now. And, oh, he’s seething when he finally ends the call, half-hard between your thighs while your lips trail down his shoulder and back up, hands planted on his taut tummy. The way his eyes slither over you angrily has your stomach doing cartwheels and your already soaked heat throbbing. He doesn’t dare to say anything, he just immediately pushes your panties to the side and unties his sweatpants; hurriedly slamming you down onto his length with little care for the mewls of pain you let out from the stretch </3

“Act like a slut and you’ll get treated like one, dear.”

HIS. TEENY. TINY. WAIST. 😫🫨🤯😫

Thinking about putting on red lipstick and littering kisses all over Jisung’s tummy while he giggles with a cute little blush on his cheeks 🤭

oh you know i do love marking pretty boys up 🥹

(warnings; swearing, marking, reader wears makeup, kissies, jaist!!🔞)

“what about this one?” jisung asks cutely, holding up one of your lipsticks for you to inspect.

you’ve been trying to get your makeup look finished before going out to see your friends and jisung, your perfectly clingy boyfriend, insisted on helping. his idea of helping was asking “and what’s that for?” every five minutes and occasionally telling you which colour he thought would look nice.

now, he’s insistent you pick the lipstick he selected for you.

“no, that’s no good,” you shake your head, looking around your drawer for your favourite nude one.

“why not?” jisung frowns, uncapping the lipstick and twisting it out. he makes a loud woah sound as he takes in the bright red of it.

“it gets everywhere, that’s no good for going out to a restaurant!” you try and explain.

“what does that mean, gets everywhere?” his lips form into a small and curious circle and you roll your eyes at him. jisung isn’t clueless, you know he isn’t, so he’s either playing dumb or he’s not actually paying any attention.

you snatch the lipstick out of his hand, quickly applying a thin layer to your lips. you don’t pay too much thought to the precision or technique of the application, simply smack your lips together when you’re done and turn to your boyfriend.

“i love this colour on you,” he smiles, words soft and gentle.

you smile at him, thanking him softly before grabbing his chin and pulling him towards you. you plant a noisy kiss on his cheek, an audible mwwahh! leaving your lips before you turn his head towards the mirror.

“see? it gets everywhere!” you explained.

jisung smiles brightly at you. “that’s just the excess layer or something, i’m sure now it’ll stay put.”

now you know he’s doing it on purpose but you indulge him either way. you lowly tell him to stand up, and he quickly does, and you’re pushing his hoodie up while you rub your fingers all over his stomach.

you want to squeeze his tiny waist until he can’t even breathe but you stop yourself, instead just grazing your nails up and down his stomach again and again and again while jisung does everything in his power to stay standing on both feet.

you move closer to his tan skin, softly pressing your lips above his belly button. a beautiful red stain is left behind once you pull away.

jisung giggles, actually giggles, and you start planting more kisses around his skin. his neck is redder than it was before and his eyes are tightly shut and his smile is so wide and his puffy cheek has a perfect pair of lips on it in bright red. you dare suck on the skin next, pulling it between your teeth as you mark him with something more permanent than your lipstick.

“do you see what i meant now?” you ask, running your nails over your masterpiece, careful to not smudge any of your work.

“need you to prove it more,” jisung rushes, discarding his hoodie and quickly undoing his belt.

“ji,” it’s your turn to giggle as he quickly grabs the lipstick and asks you to put on another layer.

“wanna see how long it takes for my dick to be covered in it,” he mumbles, already pushing his boxers to the floor.

“i’ll be late—“

“—trust me, it won’t take long.”

I FOUND TREASURE OMFGSJ THIS IS AMAZING TY FOR UR SERVICE 😫🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

GROWN UPS 💋 (18+)

summary: “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair”

era: pre-negan alexandria

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slightly submissive daryl x female reader (the juicy shit: unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, biting, choking, hair pulling, pet names (Darling, sugar, allthat), cunnalings, cumming untouched)

Disclaimer(s): This is not only my first tumblr post, this is my first x reader so forgive me if its bad </3

Considering that I am a black writer I want everyone to be included in the wonderous x reader experience which is why I have some drafts with neutral appearances and plus size so stay tuned if youre interested babe <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Hold on there, big guy. Take your shoes off” A giggle rested on your lips as you watch Daryl huff and haphazardly toe his boots off, keeping his hands firm on your hips. As soon as his socked feet were on the ground, his lips landed back ontop of yours, licking deep into your mouth.

He had been out on a run for what felt like weeks, even though it was only a few days. After dropping off his findings to Rick, he went straight to find you.

Daryl’s hands roamed and groped your body like a starved man, grunting and moaning into your mouth. He had you pinned right against the wall in the living room, pressing your bodies as closely together as he could.

He practically had you trapped there, holding you in place as his kiss swollen lips began sucking and biting at your exposed throat, pulling breathy moans from your chest. One of his strong hands slid up your shirt to grab a handful of boob, which he squeezed through your lacey bra.

You so badly wanted to take this session upstairs where you know you’ll get your core guts rearranged, however for the past few days you’ve been having a small insecurity, and that was your recent lack of shaving.

Even though you are in the middle of an apocalypse and razors have become a lot more scarce, it still made you feel a little bad about yourself, considering you did have thicker hair down there. As these negative thoughts began to cloud your mind, you started to get turned off, absent mindedly humming under your boyfriend’s touch. You didn’t want him to think that you were gross.

He took note of this and withdrew his hand from under your shirt, and brought it up to your face, redirecting your focus onto his face. “Ya’ alright there, plum?” Part of you wanted to say yes, but your head was already shaking no. “I’m sorry it’s just…” His blue eyes stared into yours, patiently wanting for your response. “I haven’t been able to shave in a while” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away to try and ease the embarrassment you felt.

After a few moments of silence Daryl scoffed, as if he just processed that you were being serious. He stared at your face for what felt like forever until he finally tilted your head back to look at him, studying your face closely. “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair” His voice was raspy and dark as he spoke, and oh, how you loved yourself a bold man.

His words shot straight down your core and to your cunt, which had began to throb again. With his words still fresh in your head, you pulled him by the collar up the stairs to your room, where you would get exactly what you wanted.

You swung your door open and slammed it shut, giggles and moans falling from your lips as Daryl scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed, ready to continue his earlier attacks on your body. This time around, he took your shirt completely off, frowning at your bra. “Quit pouting. Help get my pants off and I’ll undo my bra” You spoke as you readjusted yourself to grab at the hooks, while Daryl tore your pants off your long legs, hands immediately going for you underwear. “Nope. Your mouth is gonna be real busy tonight, since you’re such a man” Daryl smirked as he settled his hands obediently on your hips before he hooked his teeth onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, taking them out his mouth and stuffing them in his back pocket. “Fer later” He said as he looked at the amused look on your face. “I’m confused why you’re talking and not eating me out” Daryl licked his lips as he pulled your legs further apart, eyeing your hairy cunt for a bit longer than you’d like. He on the other hand was enjoying the amazing view.

He tightly gripped your hips and pulled them upwards, giving your clit a wet lick as he deeply inhaled your natural scent. It was so intoxicating to him as he really started to go down, licking and sucking at your clit. His spit trickled down and mixed with your slick, and he began to tease your fluttering hole with his finger. Your bottom lip was caught harshly between your teeth, as moans rumbled from your chest, some being a little higher than others. You moaned especially loud when two thick fingers began sliding in and out of you, curling into your sweet spot and scissoring open.

Daryl himself was painfully hard in his pants and had been working up to his own orgasm, as he literally couldn’t get enough of you. The feel of your skin under his burning palm, the taste of your wet cunt on his tongue, cheeks turning red from a combination of pleasure and your pubic hair rubbing against him. It was so overwhelming for him, as his dick twitched harshly in his pants. Pathetically, he began to grind down on the mattress, groaning erotically against you as he did. Your plump thighs tightened around his head when his relentless attack on your clit became stronger, his tongue hardening up against the bundle of nerves. “Fuck my baby that feels so good” Your fingers tangled in his brown locks, tugging at his scalp in a way you knew he liked.

Little did you know your short tugs would throw him over the edge, body trembling roughly as his cock throbbed in its confinement, shooting ropes of cum in his boxers. His moans vibrated against you, and you could feel yourself nearing the edge, unaware of your boyfriends situation. You had started to grind down on his tongue and fingers, legs tightening and shaking as you climbed to your peak, moaning lewdly when you tumbled over.

Daryl pulled off you, and his face was a wet deep red mess. His hair was disheveled and your eyes landed on the dark spot in the front of his jeans. “Would you like some help with that sweetheart? How pathetic that you came from only eating me out” You tugged him forward by his vest collar, which you prompted him to take off. Your hands moved to unbuckle his pants as he leaned down to kiss you, the taste of yourself still lingering heavy on his tongue. You tossed the belt onto the floor and yanked at his pants. “Are ya tha eager ta see me naked, darlin?” A smug smile landed on his face as he kicked the offending piece of fabric off, spoiled underwear following suit.

When your eyes landed on his thick cock, engorged tip looking just so damn sensitive, you nodded your head as your dark gaze stared into his. “Get on your back” You placed your hands on his shoulders as you rolled him over, straddling his strong hips and leaning over the bed to snatch his belt up. “Hands.” Your snapped the leather in your hands, staring down into his core. Holy hell did he love it. He loved the feeling of you tightening his own belt around his wrists and pinning them above the headboard by wrapping the extra leather around a post. He was an absolute sight for only you.

Your mouth watered as you stared down at your man, who was on complete display for you to gawk at, as you ran a lean hand up his chest, capturing his lips in yours before slamming down onto his cock, high gasp coming from him as his swollen tip bumped your cervix suddenly. You were only getting started as you placed both hands on his chest, grinding your hips skillfully and bouncing steeply, pulling yourself back down when he was only half way out.

It drove you both crazy, Daryl even more so as you kept saying dirty things to him in an alluring tone. He had a brief thought that you were some type of sex demon attempting to fuck his soul out, to which it was definitely working.

Daryl couldn’t keep his head up to watch the pornographic way you were riding him, his hands had began to tug at their restraint.

“Does that feel good baby? I wish you would look at me so I can tell” He whimpered in response, eyes rolling back when you increased your pace. Your fingers traveled up into the front of his hair, which you tugged forward to raise his head. The action went straight to his dick. Your fingers trailed out his hair and down his face, back down his chest.

“Keep your eyes on me, my sweet. Do you feel good?” You tilted your head as you ground you hips down, his dick blissfully bumping your sweet spot. “S’ so good, please let me touch you, sugar, please?” His voice sounded weak and pathetic to his own ears, but it went straight to your cunt, smile creeping on your lips. “Earn it. My poor legs are tired.” You cooed, making a pouty face at him as you rocked slowly back and fourth. “Gonna pound ya’ from underneath, ‘mma make ya’ feel real good” His senseless babbling encited a moan from you, especially when he planted his feet on the bed and lifted his hips, immediately started a rough pace.

He was so desperate to fuck the shit out you. As he panted heavily, watching intently as he quickly slid in and out of you. He had been so focused that he didn’t feel you undoing his restraints until his hands were guided to fat hips which he gripped tightly and flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up before ramming back in, one hand going up the headboard to steady himself. Even with the position he had you in he still felt compiled to do what you say, deep whimpers falling each time his sensitive tip roughly bumped inside you.

From where his hand was on the headboard, it had began to slam into the wall at the same harsh pace as his hips, which he angled up to hit your sweet spot and slide that much deeper. Fuck, he was starting to become dizzy with pleasure. Your erotic moans filled his ear as he leaned down over you, burying his face in your neck to inhale your strong smell, somehow increasing his pace. “Daryl baby I’m so close… you make me feel so fucking good” You mumbled into the comforter, the hot sounds of your boyfriend’s breath and the banging headboard filling your ears. A calloused finger trailed down your stomach and rubbed your clit in quick circles, Daryl’s strained voice right in your ear. “Cum fer me, darlin’ please let me make you feel real good, fuck- please” You could tell he was much closer to the edge than you, his voice had raised by an octave, his strokes had gotten short yet stronger, and he was practically panting like a dog. You reached a hand back and yanked his hair harder than you intended, crashing your lips together. You felt your bodies shake as Daryl’s strokes had become sloppy as his second orgasm hit him like a fucking truck. It was so strong that he couldn’t help but pull away and release a harsh whine that burned in his chest. Your own release had you pulling Daryl back down for a kiss, harshly biting his bottom lip. His finger slowed to a stop on your overly sensitive clit.

When you pulled away, it felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen, breathing heavily as Daryl rolled onto his back groaning as he pulled his soft cock out. Your hips landed on the fluffy comforter and Daryl’s cum had started to leak out of you, heating your sweaty face a little more.

After a few minutes, you felt soft lips on your back and a warm towel between your legs, followed by Daryl climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over you, wrapping big arms around your lower back as he pulled you closer. Laughter rose from you chest as he peppered you in kisses. “Told ya’ ‘m a man” He mumbled sleepily, and you scoffed. “My big strong adult man” you kissed his chest, and he hummed, already falling asleep. In the back of your head, you made a mental note to check the damage done that was done to the wall in the morning.

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A/N: this was way longer than i intended it to be but i hope y’all enjoyed!! <33

D.D. | Shane's Girl Masterlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Merle Dixon and Shane Walsh are the worst possible men in the world

Extras:

Part One: A First Encounter with Merle Dixon

Part Two: A Promise Broken, An Offer Made

Part Three: A Lesson Learned

Part Four: Cowboy Killer

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

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