Charlie Being Nervous About Being More Dominant And Rough In Bed But You Reassure Him Cause You Trust

Charlie being nervous about being more dominant and rough in bed but you reassure him cause you trust and love him. He goes all in. He loves being called daddy and he praises and degrades reader.

hey honey, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - you and your partner discuss doing something in the bedroom, and he decides to give it a try.

warning - smut, daddy kink, oral sex, creampie, swearing, fingering.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You and Charlie had discussed trying something new in the bedroom, wanting to spice it up a little, and you had asked for him to be rougher, more dominant. You noticed he had become hesitant, not talking about it after that, so when he pulled you into the bedroom, you could say you were shocked. “Uh… Undress for me, Darlin’.” You could see he was nervous, which made your heart squeeze, thinking he felt uncomfortable. 

You crawl to the end of the bed and grab his hands. “Baby, we don’t have to do this if you feel uncomfortable. I love and trust you and am happy to do whatever you feel comfortable with.” You kneel up, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“No, no. I want to do this. I just… I’ve never done this before and don’t want to disappoint you.” You nod, bringing his hands to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

You think of a way to try and trigger his more dominant side. You slowly let go of his hands and scoot back, lying back on the bed and spreading your legs. You expose your bare cunt to your man. “Why doesn’t Daddy have a taste?” You watch as something switches inside him, and his eyes darken more than they did from looking at your glistening cunt. You squeal as his hands wrap around your ankles and pull you to the end of the bed.

“Should I, huh? Should Daddy have a taste?” He growls, watching you gulp from his words. Charlie kneels, spreading your legs even more and leaning in. His tongue immediately begins to lap against your soaking cunt. Your fingers curl against the sheets, arching your back as he feasts on you. “Such a little slut for Daddy. Who made you this wet?” He begins to rub your swollen clit, flicking and pinching it, rolling it between his fingers. 

“You did, Daddy!” You whimper, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as the pleasure intensifies. “Fuck, Charlie! Feels so good!” You scream as he slaps your cunt. You stare at him with wide eyes as you throb between your legs. 

“It’s Daddy, you whore. Don’t you wanna be my good girl?” You nod, whimpering as you pout. Charlie buries himself back between your legs, lapping at your folds and swollen button, sucking on it as he watches you from below. You whine as he stops. “Such a good little slut. You better fucking cum, or I will punish you.” You whine, nodding, feeling your mind become fuzzy when he continues. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue while he inserts his fingers, thrusting roughly and fast, curling them upwards, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and your juices to squirt out of you, covering him. “Good girl.”

Your eyes flutter closed, and a soft moan escapes you when you feel his hardened member enter you. His hand wraps around your throat, and he begins to pound into you, grunting in your ear. “Fuck, darlin’. You always feel so fucking amazing around me. You’re my good girl and as my good girl. You’re going to take my cum aren’t you?” You whine, nodding and gripping onto him. “Made me nearly cum just by calling me Daddy.” He lifts your hips, thrusting harder and deeper into your warm cunt before he groans and empties himself. “Shit, so good.” Charlie slowly pulls out and begins to clean you, and then he crawls into bed, pulls you close to him, and kisses the side of your head. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Charlie.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

⌜ 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒: strangers to lovers, minhas habilidades precárias em espanhol, sexo casual e sem proteção [não pode camaradas!], dirty talk, diferença de idade, finger sucking, oral masc, elogios, manhandling, tapinhas leves, um ‘papi’, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 ꒱ @dejuncullen você é a grande culpada por tudo isso, te odeiooo.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 ELE É O TIPO DE HOMEM QUE VOCÊ SÓ VAI CONHECER UMA VEZ NA VIDA ─────

você percebe isso a partir do momento em que põe os olhos na figura masculina pela primeira vez. Sentada a umas duas mesas de distância da dele, na varanda do saguão do hotel.

Simplesmente, não conseguiu deixar de repará-lo. Os fios espessos do cabelo, como as mãos correm por entre as mechas de forma desleixada, balançando pouquinho conforme o vento suave da manhã sopra. A regata branca, um casaco pendurado nas costas da cadeira livre à mesa. O nariz pontiagudo, os olhos escondidos por trás das lentes dos óculos de sol.

Com certeza, não é brasileiro. Dá pra notar só pela comida que escolheu do buffet para o prato. Fica tão intrigada, obcecada em observá-lo, que se esquece do próprio café da manhã. Os pãezinhos esfriando junto do café na xícara. Quer abrir o aplicativo de mensagens e mandar uma pra sua amiga dizendo cê não acredita no gatinho que eu vi, porém nem tem tempo. O homem ergue o queixo, a atenção desviando do aparelho em mãos para notar a sua presença, à frente em seu campo de visão.

Você abaixa o olhar na mesma hora, sente-se como se tivesse cometido um crime e tivesse sido pega no flagra. Morde o lábio, tentando conter o sorriso bobo. As palmas das mãos suam, frias de repente, então se ocupa com a xícara de porcelana. Não sabe se bebe, por vezes ameaça levar à boca, mas desiste no meio do caminho, perdidinha feito um robô em pane. E quando levanta os olhos mais uma vez, na mesma direção que tanto fitou, a mirada do homem se encontra com a tua novamente.

Parece que vai morrer, credo. Nunca sentiu tamanha vergonha na vida, o estômago até revira. Não vai mais conseguir comer, nem pensar, nem respirar, não enquanto ainda estiver na cena do crime.

Se levanta, então. Cata uns dois pãezinhos do prato, empurra um gole de café pra dentro e caminha em direção ao saguão. Pô, não está nem tão bonitinha... Já vestiu as roupas que planejou pro dia, porém não se maquiou, nem fez os cabelos do jeito que queria, porque o plano era só descer pra tomar café antes de curtir mais um dia turistando pela cidade espanhola. Agora, está fugindo feito uma criminosa, com a boca cheia de pão, para o elevador.

Mas ao pensar que o fechar das portas cinzas significaria liberdade, o seu coração tem um motivo a mais para palpitar assim que o homem se coloca para dentro do cubículo antes que te perca de vista.

Mastiga com mais pressa, escondendo o outro pãozinho entre as mãos. Ao seu lado, ele tira os óculos, está segurando o casaco e uma bolsa transversal.

Olha pra ti.

— Enzo — diz, e pela forma com que anuncia o nome, dá pra sacar que fala espanhol.

Você passa as costas da mão sobre a boca, limpando qualquer farelinho que tenha sobrado. Oi... eh, responde em português, automática, e entra em pânico de novo por breves segundos quando o cérebro não consegue pensar em uma saudação sequer na língua estrangeira. Fala o nome, logo, sem se forçar a raciocinar mais.

— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿De Madrid?

— Ahm... — gagueja. — Brasil!

Ele sorri.

— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! — e elogia. Mas o olhar aperta, procura saber: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?”

— Sí, sí! — Sorri de volta, hiperventilando já.

O seu desespero é perceptível, é fofo. Ele te observa, a cabeça pendendo pro canto lentamente. Ri junto, cada vez o sorriso mais largo. Tem vontade de perguntar mais coisas, esticar a conversa, só que o seu andar chega, e você sai, retraída demais pra falar o que quer que seja.

Merda, devia ter dito algo. Fica se remoendo o dia inteiro, se achando a maior boba por ter perdido a oportunidade. Por que teve que agir como uma adolescente sonsa, hein? Aí, nem os museus têm mais graça, nenhum ponto turístico consegue tirar aquele fiozinho de arrependimento de ti. No outro dia, entretanto, desce pra tomar café no mesmo horário com a tola intenção de tentar vê-lo outra vez, e dito e feito. O homem está sentado numa poltrona do lobby, parece que estava ao seu aguardo também.

Você sente até as pernas bambearem.

— ¡Buenos días! — te saúda. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘buenos días’ en Brasil?

Você demora uns segundinhos pra raciocinar, “bom dia”, responde. Ele sorri.

— Es muy parecido — e comenta, sem jeito. Mira na direção do buffet, ¿Vamos?

Embora, às vezes, ele use termos que você desconhece e precisa pedir para explicar de novo, a conversa se dá muito bem. Descobre que é mais velho, uruguaio, e não espanhol como de imediato achou que fosse. Você conta um pouco sobre o estado da onde vem, e ele se encanta com a forma que seu sotaque pronuncia o nome dele. Enzo. Puxando o som do ‘z’ acima de tudo.

É com a companhia dele que você desbrava a cidade hoje. Vão juntos à uma pracinha, comem sorvete, depois jogam conversa fora enquanto exploram uma lojinha ali por perto. Mais à tarde, é levada até um barzinho. Lá, a conversa se estende ainda mais, regando os assuntos à cerveja que dividem. Quando você não entende nada, só ri, com as bochechas já quentes de tanto sorrir. Honestamente, pode deixá-lo falando sozinho por horas, só porque gosta do som rouco da voz masculina e dos olhos castanhos.

Não quer dizer que está apaixonada nem nada, afinal não tem como se apaixonar em tão pouco tempo. Mas, com certeza, o calor que sente emanando do próprio corpo significa algo. Pode ser por causa da camisa de botões azul escuro — essas peças nunca falham em ser atrativas, né? —, ou o anel prateado que chama a sua atenção toda vez que ele articula com as mãos no ar. Até mesmo o perfume... Ah, o perfume! Uma fragrância que enche os pulmões, amadeirada mas com um leve toque doce. Impregnando o dia inteiro, praticamente te convidando para afundar o rosto na curva do pescoço alheio.

Por fim, é levada até a porta do quarto de hotel. A desculpa dele é que queria te ajudar com as sacolas, como se você tivesse comprado Madrid inteira. E era pra terminar ali, simples. Te entrega as suas coisas, e o máximo que faz é se inclinar, devagarzinho, feito pedisse silenciosamente por permissão, e depositar um beijinho na cantinho da sua boca, a milímetros de tocar os seus lábios pintados de batom. Mas você segura na mão dele, quando o rapaz se afasta pelo corredor, não o deixa escapar.

Enzo leva o olhar da sua mão entrelaçada na dele pro seu rosto. Sorri ao te ver encolhendo-se, retraída, deitando o canto do corpo no batente da porta. O seu sorriso contido, bobo. Nessa hora, nenhuma palavra é necessária pra entender o que se quer passar. O seu corpo fala sozinho, em alto e bom tom.

Ele se aproxima novamente, a outra mão toca o canto do seu rosto. Quente, afetuoso. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? O foco dos olhos castanhos está na sua boca, a pergunta é sussurrada, sedutora. O toque dos dedos contornam o seu maxilar até se fechar no seu queixo, ¿Quieres algo más que un beso?

Você não tem certeza de que palavra usar, qual comando preferir. Na verdade, não queria nem estar pensando. O cérebro queria estar desligado para que o só o corpo pudesse aproveitar o momento. O envolve entre os braços, o rosto pode, finalmente, se esconder na curvatura do pescoço masculino, aspirar o perfume inebriante. Escuta o som da risadinha dele, sente as mãos grandes sendo depositadas na sua cintura. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo.

Ergue o olhar, tímida. A ponta do seu nariz roça contra a dele, cria um atrito que só pela proximidade absurda, deixa tudo ainda mais tenso, erótico.

— En Brasil — você começa, mordendo o lábio —, a gente diz ‘foder.’

O sorriso de Enzo cresce, quase em câmera lenta. Foder, repete a palavra num sussurro. De novo, nem tem que pensar muito para compreender. Tudo soa similiar, e parece que a sua mente está conectada a dele por um desejo tão carnal.

Os lábios do uruguaio vão de encontro aos seus, a língua quente esbarra na tua. Os corpos ganham vida própria. Aos poucos, o cenário principal deixa de ser o corredor do hotel, pra ser o seu quarto. A porta é fechada com um empurrãozinho dos pés, enquanto o caminho escolhido é em direção a sua cama.

As mãos sobem da sua cintura para pegarem na barra da blusa e a retirarem. Quando você deita sobre o colchão, apoiando os cotovelos, é a deixa para que o homem possa puxar os seus shorts também.

— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? — ele pergunta, ao desabotoar a própria blusa. O olhar afiado, banhado de vontade, delirando. Nos lábios, você nota o vermelho manchado do seu batom. — Correrme en tu boca...

Talvez seja a mente perdida na ânsia, porque não processa o que te foi dito. Fica com os olhinhos parados, a boca entreaberta puxando ar, ofegante. Tão bobinha que tudo que ele faz é rir, correndo as mãos pelos cabelos em vez de levá-las diretor para o cinto da bermuda.

— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? — o tom usado contigo beira o deboche, é mais agudo. E ao contrário do que normalmente sentiria, aqui sente um frio na barriga, ainda mais tesão. Ele se inclina pra perto. — Mira.

E como se estivesse aprendendo uma coisa pela primeira vez, o imita quando ele separa os lábios. Deixa que o polegar do homem arraste no seu lábio inferior, e depois o médio e o indicador juntos deslizem por cima da sua língua, até ocuparem a sua boca. Así, ele murmura, empurra e recua com a mão, num movimento lento, sensual, metértelo en la boca.

Ah, agora você entende bem. O rosto queima, o jeito molhado com que os dedos saem da sua boca, um fiozinho de saliva resistindo à distância, é devasso, estimula. Faz que sim, se ajoelhando no chão de madeira, os olhos vidrados no desafivelar do cinto até poder ter a ereção em plena vista.

Separa os lábios mais uma vez, como te foi ‘ensinado’. Te enche a boca, vai ao ponto do seu nariz tocar na virilha dele, e vem, completamente molhadinho. Permite que o uruguaio controle o compasso, que pegue no canto do seu rosto. Levanta o olhar para o dele, rendida não só pela lascividade do que faz, mas também pela bela visão que tem da face masculina por esse ângulo.

Enzo usa o indicador da mão livre para deslizar pela curva do seu nariz, afetuoso.

— Qué ojitos más bonitos... — te elogia, com um sorriso. Nesse momento, você jura, o coração parece que explode. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. — Ele suspira, a cabeça pende pra trás, depois pro canto. Te olha de um jeito tão canalha que você evita retribuir o olhar. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti.

É conduzida de volta pra cama, facilmente manuseada quando dá o controle da situação na palma da mão alheia. Ele vem por cima, destrava o encaixe frontal do seu sutiã, perdendo-se entre os seus seios assim que os libera do aperto da peça. Você segura nos cabelos dele, inquieta sob o chupar delicioso da língua em cada biquinho, o morder selvagem dos dentes. Arfa, tendo que apartar-se dos fios pretos enquanto a boca desce pela sua barriga.

Te liberta da última peça íntima também, os beijos molhados estalando na sua pele, do ventre ao monte de vênus. A ponta do nariz grande se esfregando de leve por cima da região onde sabe que está o seu pontinho sensível. A palma da mão corre em meio à sua umidade, o friozinho do anel prateado deslizando na sua pele fervente. Estala dois, três tapinhas seguidos que te fazem estremecer, choramingando baixinho. Enzo sorri, não precisa, mas volta àquele tom debochadinho de antes, de quem tem que soletrar com calma os comandos para que você possa compreender. Leva a mão aos seus lábios, dá um toquezinho por cima, de aquí, e depois desce tudo de novo, deixando um rastro molhado até dar outro tapinha na sua buceta, a aquí. E são esses pequenos detalhes que deixam tudo ainda melhor, nossa. Te faz sentir tão bobinha, tola, mas é tão bom...

Quando ele se põe pra dentro, você tranca as pernas ao redor da cintura masculina, o envolve entre os braços, sentindo-o dominar tudo. Ele insiste no contato visual, porém, erguendo o torso, apoiando-se no antebraço contra o colchão, para te olhar no olhos. Sorrir. Ofegante igual você. Gemendo baixo, rouco. Primeiro, lento, só que logo se rende à velocidade, ao som cortado dos seus gemidos a cada estocada mais forte. E são tantos estímulos, porra... Você quer tapar a boca, cerrar os olhos pra tentar se conter. É o barulhinho pornográfico dos corpos em choque, a voz masculina, o perfume da pele quente. Está tão sensível que os olhinhos molham, uma lagrimazinha escorrendo bochecha a baixo.

— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. — Ele cessa o ritmo, o polegar limpa a umidade do seu rosto.

‘En—’, até começa a querer chamar o nome dele, mas a frustração de não receber mais os mesmo estímulos e na mesma medida é tamanha que só sabe se remexer, lamuriando, a mente derretida, murmurando por fim dale, dale, papi.

Enzo volta a sorrir. Deixa alguns selares nos seus lábios, repetindo as suas palavras entre os beijinhos, como se zombasse do seu teor de desespero, do termo que usou para se referir a ele.

— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? — Ele te vira sobre a cama, te ajeita de quatro. A conversa suja te faz sorrir, burra de tanto tesão já, agarrando-se a um dos travesseiros. O corpo do uruguaio se inclina por cima do seu, chega com a boca pertinho do seu ouvido. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras.

Kinktober Day 8

(A/n: Based on a request from @pawspurpaw; 'Italics'=thoughts) (let's just pretend it's still October 😅)

Reblogs are appreciated🛐

Hope you enjoy~♥️

Word Count:

Summary- What more can I say? You and your mate love the chase...

Navigation

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Warnings: Primal kink, Collaring, Brat kink, Hunter/Prey

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Alec Volturi x Hybrid! Fem! Reader

---------------

Wind rushes past, whistling in your ears as you run through the forest, dodging branches and foliage. Your heart hammers in your chest in time with your feet pounding on the ground.

You can hear him behind you, but you don't dare chance a look. You push your legs to carry you faster as you try to keep your lead. He had given you a ten-minute head start, and this is all you had to show for it. He had only started after you a minute ago and already closed the majority of the distance between you by the sounds of it.

"You can run all you want, but you can never escape me!" HIs voice echoes through the trees, sounding out with a sinister glee.

'Shit!' your mind races as you take in your surroundings.

Trees on all sides of you seemed to close in as you looked for a place to hide. You knew he was right: you couldn't outrun him, but you could try your best to hide.

There! A fallen tree with a hollowed-out hole just big enough for you to squeeze into. Rushing over, you quickly slide in, making sure to cover your tracks leading to the log. You clamp your hands over your mouth as you try to slow your breathing and calm your racing heart.

"Y/n~" You can hear his voice call out, sounding much closer than before. "Where are you?"

You're sure he can hear your heart beating its way out of your chest. He has to. There's no way he doesn't; he's just toying with you.

Your hands are shaking with adrenaline, fear and anticipation pumping liquid fire through your veins along with a different heat that's curling in your gut. Sticks are snapping under his weight as he stalks closer and closer to where you're hiding. You know he's doing it on purpose too; knows you can hear as he comes closer and closer to where you're hiding.

Then it goes silent.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four beats.

You think that by some miracle he missed you. Your hands move from covering the labored breaths coming from your mouth to hold onto the petite leather strap around your neck.

Taking the moment to rest your head against the log, you can't help but pat yourself on the back. You finally did it, you won.

And then your arm is grabbed, and you're pulled from the fallen tree in favor of being pinned against a cold, hard chest.

"Gotcha," His cool breath fans against your ear.

"Go fuck yourself!" you spit out as you struggle to free yourself.

Your attempts prove fruitless as he effortlessly spins you around and all but slams you against the nearest tree.

"Well, you see, that's kinda what I was hoping you'd do."

Before you can protest about your back, Alec is pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss and you can no longer bring yourself to care.

Your hands come up to tangle in his soft black locks as you press yourself closer to him. He nips at your bottom lip before hiking your leg up to press even closer to you. His cock already hard and pushing deliciously against your clothed slit in a way that has you moaning in anticipation.

Alec shifts to press kisses and bites into the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks that would surely leave a bruise -even if only for a few hours, damned accelerated healing.

Getting impatient, you drag your hands down, trying to undo his slacks. He pulls away from your neck, grinning like a madman, as he grabs your wrists and undoes them himself before doing the same to yours.

When you're both free from the restrictive clothing, he's reaching down to lift you by the back of your thighs. Using the tree as support, he pushes into you, fully sheathing in one go.

"Fuck, you're so tight, love-" His head drops to the juncture between your shoulder and neck as he sucks in an unnecessary breath.

Your hand is back to gripping the short hairs near his neck when he begins to thrust.

It's a rough pace that has you shifting up against the trunk with every thrust. The woods around you amplifying the sharp slapping noises of skin hitting wet skin. It only serves to make you want him even more, though.

You swear you can feel Alec in your stomach with how deep he's hitting. His animalistic growling mixes with your high-pitched mewling as he continues to pound into your tight cunt.

Your hips are beginning to ache with each hit of his, but the slight pain just seems to add to the pleasure. You can feel the heat coiling tighter in your core as you get steadily closer and closer to your release. You can't help but have a little fun, though.

"Is this really all you've got?" you breathe out. "I have toys that have gotten me off quicker-"

Your sentence is cut off by him gripping the back of the collar wrapping around your throat so prettily.

"Do you really want to finish that sentence, piccola ragazza?" Alec growls out dangerously.

You can't help the shit-eating grin that graces your features.

"Say what?" You bat your eyes innocently. "That my bright pink dildo fucks me better than yo-!"

You're cut off with a yelp as you're pulled away from the tree and pinned to the forest floor.

"We'll see about that..."

He starts to fuck into you with a renewed anger that has you seeing black spots dance in your vision.

"Oh, god~" Your eyes roll back when the new position has him hitting your g spot with each thrust. "Oh, god, right there!"

"Still worse than your stupid little toys?" He sneers.

"A bit," you manage to squeak out between moans.

With a growl, Alec's hand wraps around your throat, cutting off your air supply just enough to make your head spin.

"If you want to keep running that smart ass mouth of yours, I can easily fix that."

Your fingers are digging into his wrist as he keeps his grip tight. The lack of air mixed with just how hard he's thrusting into you has you spiraling towards release faster than you'd like to admit.

Your moans are coming out choked as he continues to slam into you, abusing your sloppy cunt with each hit to your cervix. Every brush of his cock along your gummy walls has you inching closer and closer to an orgasm.

The nails of your free hand are digging into the leaves and dirt below you, creating drag lines as you're pushed and pulled by Alec's grip. You can feel the tension building more and more in your core, threatening to spill over with every shift of his hips.

A particularly hard thrust sends your head back as a guttural moan leaves your parted lips. You let go. Your orgasm sends full body shudders through you as your soaked cunt clenches around Alec. The pulsating of your gummy walls sends you mate over the edge as well.

His head drops to the crook of you neck as he stills inside you, his cool sperm filling any place he wasn't.

For a moment neither of you move, just taking the time to bask in each other's presence and whisper sweet nothings to the other.

Unfortunately, nothing last forever and you have to break apart. There's a beat of silence as you head back to the castle before you decide to break it.

.

"You don't actually fuck worse than my bright pink dildo..."

And then you're running yet again.

ʚɞ 01. PHANTOM LINGERING ꒰ SHE'S CONFIDENT! ꒱ -- jang wonyoung

dividers from here! MINORS DNI !!

☆ wc; 1.6k

★ pairing; idol ! wonyoung x fem ! stylist ! reader

☆ genre; fluff, angst, forbidden love(-ish), smut.

★ contains; no smut this chapter ;) vv suggestive, wony flashes reader (on accident), won is js very teasing and reader is a lil delulu (this is me projecting).

based on confident by justin bieber! listen whilst reading for best experience :)

"your skin is so pretty." you mumbled through slightly parted lips as the soft bristles of the makeup brush poked gently at the sharp tip of the girl's nose.

wonyoung only giggled in response, "yours too." she said with a smile, long, slender fingers reaching out to trace along the skin on your wrist, "so soft." she said with a smile.

the simple ministration was more than enough to make your heart skip a pulse. you gulped. "thank you."

from what you had heard around from the gossip of your coworkers, wonyoung's old stylist had quit his job because he got sick of being around her. although you really couldn't see why. you'd been working with the girl for the past few weeks, and she had been nothing but kind to you. she was like an angel. so sweet and genuine.

she was pretty too. like really, really pretty. sometimes you would catch yourself staring and wondering if she was truly real.

maybe the old stylist couldn't get along with her the way you did because he was much older than her. and a guy.

you were the same age as she, so there was never any need for the constant respect and bowing of heads. the two of you were on a first-name basis which each other, because you could be. the two of you could be casual. in some way, you felt wonyoung was lucky to have you. but maybe that was a little narcissistic of you to think.

you gently brushed a finishing touch of powder onto her face, before looking to her with a grin, "all done. i'll wait here while you get dressed."

wonyoung gave you a kind smile in return and stood up, walking into the dressing room beside the two of you and drawing back the curtain behind her whilst you sat down in the seat she had been in.

your eyes wandered around the room for a few moments, before catching a glimpse of something in the corner on your eyes.

... you swore on the heavens that you didn't mean to look.

it was an honest mistake on the behalf of the both of you. the dressing room curtain hadn't closed all the way when she had shut it, and you had gotten a flash of something you knew you shouldn't have.

your eyes widened with shock. even though you knew what you saw had only lasted for about a nanosecond of time, the image seemed to stay in your head.

if you weren't mistaken, she had seemed to be... checking herself out in the mirror? completely stripped down, an innocent, submissive, doe-eyed expression on her face as her hands cupped her breasts and eyed herself.

your thighs squeezed together as if on instinct. as if your horrendous crush on this girl, fuck, your client wasn't bad enough, you just had to see this.

you weren't even sure if it was possible for you to erase that image from your mind. it was so disgusting, so perverted, so sick of you to be thinking that way of someone who you should've been on strictly professional terms with, but for some contorted reason, there a was a part of you that wished you had looked for longer. a part of you that you wished so badly would go away.

your head was snapped immediately out of your thoughts as you heard the sound of her voice, as she drew back the curtain and stuck her head out to peer at you, "y/n, can you help me? i can't reach the back."

you forced a smile onto your lips as you nodded your head, immediately stood up, "yeah, sure." you responded, pulling yourself together as you walked over and inside of the dressing room, wonyoung closing back the curtain, before turning around, her back facing your front.

the outfit complimented her features in the mirror perfectly, the tulle of the skirt bouncing over her hips, the silk of the bodice still slightly loose as it wasn't zipped up. your fingers fondled the zipper, before pulling it up to meet the clip on the top, which you fastened, but not without making contact with her sweet, smooth, ceramic skin.

she smiled warmly as she looked at herself in the mirror, and then back at you, "how much longer until i get onto stage?"

you blinked softly and repeatedly in response, as if slipping out of a mindless trance as your eyes darted to your pocket, pulling out your phone and clearing your throat, "a few minutes."

wonyoung nodded her head, before wrapping her arms around you in a hug, something the two of you always did. this was normal. a usual, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary exchange between two friends. afterall, that was what she preferred to refer to you as. her friend.

the title always made you feel special. as if you were above all of the other staff members. you'd heard it from all of them first. you were, and always had been wonyoung's favourite amongst all of them. from the first day you were here, she had taken a liking to you.

a small grin appeared on your lips as you gently hugged back, before reluctantly parting ways with her as she'd bid her soft, whispery goodbye for now, and you'd wish her a goodluck.

you sat with the rest of the staff in front of the big screen, watching the concert from backstage. the girls were all truly amazing.

but you couldn't take your eyes off of her. she had this radiant glowing essence that made her stick out to your eyes. her smile alone could blind you, and you would take it happily.

they'd performed many songs and had a plethora outfit changes by now. the concert had gone for two hours, and they were finishing off with another little session of improv.

wonyoung smiled as she heard something from the audience, turning her head in the central direction of the soundcheck booth, presumably looking at a fan, "ooh, you want advice to ask a girl out?"

the audience erupted into cheers at that, and wonyoung and the other members only laughed in response, before she delivered her signature sweet smile, "all you need is to be yourself, and to be confident!"

and as she continued to talk her words of endearing encouragement, you felt yourself beginning to zone out, as you watched her.

confident. pfft. try having a crush on your client, wonyoung.

soon enough, it was time for another intermission. the girls came back stage and took a quick break, drinking water and cooling off as you and the other stylists touched up their makeup.

you couldn't help but notice wonyoung was... smiling at you a little more than she usually did..? although, it was probably just an over observation. she was after all, exhausted, after having defeated the main leg of the concert with the utmost energy you had ever seen in her. she was probably just tired and not thinking...

that would certainly explain the hand she had on your knee as you worked, slowly inching up your thigh in the most subtlest of moves...

"how long's this intermission?" she asked you coolly.

you gulped softly, not wanting to look down at... whatever it was she was doing, instead keeping a straight face as you dipped the bruhs you were working with into a palette of setting powder, gently dusting it over her cheeks, "uh, ten minutes."

"hm," she hummed in response, her large, round eyes wandering the room before landing on her hand, resting on your knee. she smirked softly, "i hope that guy goes well, asking that girl out..."

she was doing this on purpose. she had to be.

"y-yeah..." you muttered in response, not making eye contact with her as your gaze flickered from her lips, where you touched up her rosy pink gloss, and then awkwardly down to her hand, which was now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

"your clothes are so cute." she smiled at you, making you look back up to her, "where do you shop?"

there was non way you were the only one feeling this tension. it felt so thickly viscous, you could barely move in your seat.

"uh-uhm... i shop... kinda... everywhere." you said, your head going foggy as she continued to stare into your eyes, her sweet honey look fixedly boring into your soul... it was hypnotic. you were sure you were losing your mind when she bit down on her plump bottom lip, eyeing your lower region as she let go of your skirt, her singular index finger trailing down along your thigh and stopping back at your knee.

"we should go shopping together someday." she smiled warmly at you.

you blinked rapidly at that, "w-would that be... okay..?"

wonyoung grinned, "why not? we're friends."

friends. holy fuck. you felt your heart soaring in your chest. it was a usual thing for her to say. she always called you her friend. but this time, it was different. the way she emphasised the word made your knees buckle weakly.

"oh look, there's only a few minutes before i have to get back on..." she said, standing up, "see you!"

"goodluck..."

and then she left.

there was no way those past five minutes were real.

maybe to others it was demolishing. being 'in the friendzone'.

but you didn't mind this zone at all.

you looked down on your knee. the feeling of her touch on your skin was still there lingering, like a phantom lurking over you.

maybe the girls were right about wanting a longer intermissions.

prev. | mlist. | next.

★ a/n: heheee took a different approach with this one and wrote the first chapter first instead of the masterlist. hopefully this way i wont abandon the series like i do with everything else (foreshadowing? maybe... time will tell)....

OKAYYYY BUT I DONT SEE ENOUGH DOM WONY ON HERE!!! i also think this trope is rly cute too w/ the shy staff x sorta boisterous idol... ive been thinking about it for a while but i never actually wrote it until now WHICH I DONT KNOW WHY BECAUSE ITS SO UNDERRATED AND FUN TO WRITE LIKEEEE

anyways i really hope i finish this... BUT WE'LL SEE! (no promises pls dont get ur hopes up im a libra moon and i have adhd i dont know how to do one thing and stick to it)

☆ taglist; empty! shoot an ask or comment if you would like to be added :D

Protection | A.V x Reader

warnings: mentions of injury (vampire reader), slight hints of possessive nature,

ʚɞ

As of recently, you had been having trouble with one of the lower guards. It wasn’t too bad, some light teasing comments here and there and perhaps a few disguised insults thrown within but it had never been a physical problem; you never felt the need to tell your mate. You were still technically a newborn, though you had battled down on keeping your strength maintained and you did not have as much of the desire to drink every living thing within a one hundred or so mile range anymore. You were doing better and you thought you could handle yourself.

That was until Alec was away on a mission, as he typically was. Casually, you decided to take a stroll through the castle, making your way to the courtyard to sit and read for a while. It had become a sanctuary within the walls of your newfound home and often times you found yourself sitting beneath the large tree, admiring the well kept greenery and feeling the warmth of the sun hitting your porcelain skin. It was just so calming to your frantic thoughts, and none of the humans could see in here, so why wouldn’t you take advantage of it?

However, it was only on the way back to your room that an issue started to arise. You had bumped into a few of the lower guards chatting away within the training room corridors and you sent them a friendly smile, continuing on your way. You failed to notice that he was one of them, just as you failed to notice the way he snuck away from the group to follow you, clearly seeing how lost in your own mind you were.

You snapped out of your thoughts quickly when you heard him whistle, stopping and turning around.

“Hey Y/N, whatcha doing?” He eyed the book in your hands, taking a few steps closer to take it out of your hands. “ Dracula, huh? How… ironic”

You gave him a tight smile, though you noticed the ever growing smirk on his face and knew it was not good news. You pulled the book from him hesitantly.

“It was a gift.” Your voice was stiff as you spoke.

“A gift?”

“Mhm. From my mate.” You enunciated the word, hoping to remind him that you were in fact mated to one of the deadliest vampires to exist, though he didn’t seem to take the bait.

“How lame… i’m sure I could give you a gift with much more sentimental value than that.” He continued to smirk at you and the uneasy feeling in your stomach grew. You laughed nervously, unsure what to do before taking a step back.

“Remember who you’re talking to. I- I must be on my way.”

You winced as you stuttered, and your brain began to hiss insults at your stupidity.

What a futile attempt at sounding threatening, Y/N.

As you took another step away from the guard you felt him grab your arm. You froze. Your book flew to the ground.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Y/N. We can have so much fun together”

You hissed loudly as his grip tightened, pulling you towards him. Little hairline cracks began to appear on your arm, and you whimpered quietly. This seemed to entertain him more and his smirk grew into a menacing grin.

“Come on, don’t be such a bitch. Live a little. Or has that little witch twin dug his claws too deep into you…”

“I highly suggest you remove your hand before I do it for you.”

A growl came from behind you both and you turned, seeing your mate standing a few feet away from you. His eyes were black as they settled on the cracks forming on your arm, and you could just barely see the ring of red surrounding them. You winced as the guard instinctively tightened his grip momentarily, larger jagged lines creeping up your arm, and suddenly Alec was in front of you both, forcefully removing the guards hand from where it held you and tearing it from his body with ease. A scream of pain sounded through the stone hallway as he fell to his knees. Alec simply smirked as he stared down at him before humming, speaking over his shoulder to address you.

“Sweetface, why don’t you go and find Jane? I believe she was looking for you.” He turns to watch you as you nod.

“O-okay…” You pick up your book from where it had dropped to the floor, quickly leaving the corridor.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Sat upon the stool of Jane’s vanity she continued to brush your hair gently, eying you in the mirror whilst you twisted your previously injured wrist around.

“Are you sure you are okay?” She questioned, placing the brush down and beginning to twist a braid into your hair.

“Yeah I’m good. I just wonder what Alec-” You smiled up at her. As if on que, the door opened and said boy waltzed right in, making his way right over to where the two of you resided.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Jane raised her eyebrows playfully, a teasing tone in her voice making you giggle.

“Shut up” He threw the snarky remark to her, a smile on his face regardless, and she laughed. He turned his attention to you, kneeling in front of you.

“Are you okay, my love?” He took your wrist in his hand, twisting it gently to see if any damage remained. It didn’t, of course, but that didn’t stop him from pulling it to his lips and pressing kisses to it.

“I’m okay.” You reassure softly. Alec smiles at your sweet nature before shooting a look at Jane. She rolled her eyes, finishing up the intricate braid she had twisted into your hair.

“I’ll give you two a minute…” She moved to the door, turning back momentarily “Just a reminder that this is my room.”

Alec scoffed and watched the door close.

“I swear sometimes I wonder why she has to be so sassy all the time. I can see where you get it from now. Too much time together. ” He smiled up at you and you giggled again.

“As if you can hardly talk.” You placed a hand upon his cheek as he raised an eyebrow. You sighed, smile dropping “Is he..?”

Alec simply nodded and turned to place a reassuring kiss to the palm of your hand.

“He shall not bother you again, sweetface.” His eyes hold the promise however you could see something else beneath it and suddenly you were asking what was wrong before you could stop yourself.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you?” His voice hardened slightly, though still held a softness to it nonetheless. “Were you worried that I would-“

You cut him off with a shake of your head.

“No, love, none of this is your fault. I should have told you, it was just… it was never really that serious. It didn’t seem like something I couldn’t handle on my own.”

“Was he physical with you beforehand?” He frowned, hands finding your own and stroking the top of your palms soothingly. You shook your head again.

“No… it was just little comments and stuff.” You shrugged “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

He shushed you gently and stood you both up, pulling you into his arms.

“Mia amore, you are not at fault. I promise you I am not angry at you whatsoever. I know you can handle yourself.”

You smiled up at him whilst he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gazed up at him lovingly.

“Thank you, my love. For helping me and for not being angry with me”

“Always.” He whispered as he leant down, pressing a kiss to your lips. The door opened as he did so, revealing his sister with a grimace on her face.

“Well at least you aren’t going at it on my bed”

Your mate pulled away with a look of horror, turning to glare at her. You laughed at their bickering .

“Jane. I swear to god-”

ʚɞ

taglist: @your-next-daydream @agirllovespancakes

𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 ♡

Summary: Taking care of your touch starved boyfriend proves to be more difficult than you initially thought...

Warnings: Established Relationship, Sickeningly sweet Fluff, Heated Making Out, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), Touch Starved!Wonbin, Groping, Dirty Talk, Choking, Daddy Kink, Slight!DDLG, Praise Kink, Fingering

Literally no one asked. But I just had to write something sweet and domestic

A melody that is equal parts romantic, equal parts horrifically tragic bleeds from the strings being coaxed by Wonbin's long fingers. You watch dreamily as he plays you a tune, while you both lay utterly defeated on the couch.

The Friday night lights scattered around the city, bleed in through the cracks in the curtain and your entire front is warmed by Wonbin's back. Your eyes had fluttered closed sometime in between his playing and so you would never know that his eyes were trained on you, as his head rested backwards and his fingers played away.

“Why are you always playing me some Orwellian shit?” You attempt to sound annoyed.

Your eyes are still closed but a light chuckle reaches your ears and you smile, satisfied. Wonbin peers down at his fingers, mindlessly dancing ober the cords as he says,“I think it was supposed to be romantic,” His voice is like gravel and thunder and your stomach warms inside you.

“Almost as romantic as two teenagers killing themselves for one another.” Your eyes flutter open as your fingers find their way at the tips of Wonbin's messy hair, “Would you die for me, Binnie?” his answer is grim in its intensity and instancy,

“Die? Probably not. But I would probably attempt to hurt someone very, very badly for you,” his gaze is still lowered to his strumming as he softly says, “not just physically, but there's plenty of other ways to hurt someone. I'd probably do that, instead of actually dying for you.”

You were forced to get accustomed to Wonbin's morbidity because it almost came as a by-product of his various other terrific attributes. He speaks with a near constant air of grimness that makes your irrational heart swell.

He continues his morose little tune until you cut him off quite abruptly, quite rudely when you say:

"When was the last time you did some hair care?"

That had probably been the very last question he expected to hear (and perhaps maybe even wanted to hear) so early into a rainy Friday evening. His limbs were laden with post-performance exhaustion and all he wished to do, was continue laying between your legs, his head cushioned by your breasts. He was in absolute bliss with your hand patting down his head nearly coaxing him into an early slumber.

It was the perfect way to end a stressful day, until you invariably decided to choose violence.

Wonbin cranes his head back slightly and he narrows his sleepy eyes as he groans out, "Is this your characteristically nice way of telling me my hair looks bad?"

You try to coax his head back down onto your chest, and he steadily complies as you try to pepper him with reassurances, "This is my characteristically nice way of telling you that you need some hair care."

And he concedes, almost immediately with a daft little shrug. He's not sure if it's the affect of the softness of your chest pillowing his cheek or the softness of your body underneath him but Wonbin chooses to see this as the universe gifting him with the possibility of being seated between your thighs while you weave your fingers through his hair to your heart's content.

The thought effects him in ways he did not anticipate and soon, he is turning his face into your chest and nuzzling into the cleavage. "When do we start?"

An obnoxious, borderline unladylike laugh pushes its way through youre throat as you try to shrug the boy off of your chest but to no avail. Wonbin's kisses along your cleavage are unrelenting and you release a breathless little chuckle. "I proposed that we do your hair-" You finally succeed in pushing his head back, "Not that you end up inside of me on the damn couch."

"Why can't you do my hair…” Wonbin turns to ease his fingers along the waistband of your sweats, “...After you let me inside.” He continues to splay wet, needy kisses along your chest.

While he distracts himself, you inconspicuously hook your fingers into the hair tie securing his raven hair back and you pull, letting his hair fall like a across his face while he continues to assault your skin with hickies. You're momentarily stunned by the sheer length of Wonbin's hair as he continues to lap hungrily at your skin, deciding to stretch his bravery and let his hand crawl up under your loose shirt.

"Your hair is so pretty, Binnie,"

"Your everything is so pretty, baby," He groans and you can tell from the low panting in his voice and the hand skimming the underside of your breasts that he is getting himself worked up.

While Wonbin shifts his weight on top of you so that he begins to straddle you, you're very alarmed but not surprised to find him already completely hard.

A very familiar, very distracting bulge pushing against your thigh brings you back to earth.

"I need to fuck you now," He affirms robotically with a curt nod of his head of hair spilling around his face.

"Down boy,” you shoot out a hand against his chest. Keeping him at arm's length. “We need to wash it now,"

"I need to fuck you now,"

"You're insatiable today,"

"You say this as if it's something new."

"Fair enough," you murmer, letting your head fall on the armrest as you watch your boyfriend seated above. His bushy eyebrows scrunch up until he's racking his fingers through his hair, attempting to detangle the web of raven locks and failing horribly.

"Hurry up, so I can tie this back up," he grumbles in apparent vexation. "I hate having it like this." You throw your head back as you wrestle to wriggle yourself up from underneath him but he stays put.

"Afterwards, you let me give you the most mind blowing orgasm you've ever had,"

"Afterwards," you grumbled back, using his distraction to knock his balance of kilter, "-you let me put some of my hair clips in."

He had been a grumbling, moody mess throughout the entire process. Washing his hair in the bathroom sink while Wonbin sat on a stool had been a nightmare filled with you having to swat away at Wonbin's hand whenever it got too bold and decided to attack you while you were hovering over him, letting the water wash the suds away. You were pleasantly surprised by just how much you were enjoying running your fingers through his scalp, stirring up the shampoo until it created a halo of bubbles on his head, all while you were humming steadily to his latest song.

"You're very pretty," Wonbin said suddenly as you proceeded to towel down his hair. Your heart squeezed with adoration inside its cage.

"You're very pretty, too."

Your reply released a whirlwind of butterflies scattering inside his stomach, threatening to climb out his oesophagus and spill out of his mouth. The exchange was perhaps so tender it almost felt unreal.

His eyes, as dark as they are, as endless as they are, bore into yours. You're still hovering above him, but the towel falls gently to the floor, and soon, you're being pulled into that spindly web that was the force of Wonbin's entire freaking aura and you're leaning in close.

“I have to finish up.” It comes out as a whisper.

You immediately know when your eyes flit down to his lips, thay you're already too far gone.

“Why are you leaning in then?” He whispers back with a lazy smirk spilling across his lips.

“Because you're making me,” whispering is all you're both able to do, in fear of shattering this incredibly charged energy between you.

“Am I?” He asks with a slight tilt of his head with his own eyes now staring up at your lips. He is feeling less apologetic for his unsavoury thoughts because Wonbin's has been forced to endure all of 5 minutes of you scrubbing at his hair, while your breast pushed right against his face.

Apologetic is the last thing he feels right now.

“You're a fucking tease,” he breathes out. And his large hand is slithering up the back of your neck until your lips are crashing onto his with a surprised yelp.

As your lips move in tandem with one another, Wonbin's hand never leaves your neck. Instead, he chooses to prolong the kiss by breaking away in short intervals. Never straying too far.

Wonbin's mouth is all encompassing. He slithers his tongue in almost conspiratorially and you gasp at the sudden yet swift intrusion. Both your tongues meet in a fiery, borderline barbaric kiss and you swear on everything you love that you could cum off of making out with him alone.

How utterly embarrassing that would be.

When the faintest moan slips out of your mouth Wonbin abandons all other inhibitions. He rises from the chair like lightning and you nearly roll backwards from the sheer size of him.

His heavy shoulders are bent down to keep your lips locked against his as he pushes you against the sink. With one more kiss, Wonbin spins you around until your front is facing the foggy mirror, and his front is pressed against your back.

He leans his head down, pressing his lips to your ear as he says, “Are you gonna let me in now?” His fingers slide against the waistband of your sweats and you immediately know what he means.

A wanton sound bleeds from your chest and you push your ass backwards, pressing it against the bulge in his sweats.

Wonbin's other hand finds the front of your throat as he cranes your neck backwards.

“You gonna be good for me, Princess?” He asks in a vaguely condescending manner as he juts his bottom lip out and gazes down at you, mirroring your pained, wanton expression.

“You finally ready to be a good little girl, huh?”

You couldn't stand his infuriating teasing any longer and so you make the daring decision to push your own hand into the front of your sweats- or perhaps you try to. Wonbin's hand locks around your wrist and squeezes until you're wincing in pain. His gaze is unfazed as he releases the grip on your wrist and pushes his own hand down your pants.

“You're so fucking stupid sometimes, Angel.” His words run like rain on the forest floor and your eyes flutter shut when his fingers push past your drenched underwear.

“You're fucking soaked, baby,” He croaks, keeping his nose nuzzled in your neck as he swipes his fingers along your folds. Wonbin soon loses himself the movements of his own fingers, until his bucking against your ass while muttering dirty nothings into your ear in a dizzying amalgamation.

“M-More, please-”

That immediately rouses him from his pleasure filled state. Wonbin blinks away the pleasure and straightens his slightly hunched frame.

“You want my cock inside you baby?” His eyes are trained on the side of your face while swiping his hands across the mirror so you could see the mess he's already made of you.

Your lips hang open and Wonbin's damp hair falls over his face as he towers over you.

“My good girl wants me inside of her so badly,” he whispers, almost robotically, as if he were chanting the words to himself as he pushes his hand in his sweats. As he begins to fist his aching cock Wonbin lazily brings his hooded eyes up to your reflection and you both watch each other through the mirror.

He looks so incredibly hungry and so you do nothing but comply as he places a hand on your lower back, forcing you over the sink.

“You're gonna be good for me?” He looks visibly pained when you nod slowly before allowing him to pull your sweats down enough to accommodate his cock at your centre.

“Tell me you'll be good,” his voice shook with the force of his own arousal and you could tell, from his voice alone, that he was already slipping into domspace.

“I'll be goo- fuck!” He's already easing to you with little to no preparation and from his shallow thrusts alone, you can tell how needy he is.

“Ah-fuck, you're so tight…”

Wonbin loses himself in the warmth of your cunt. He paws at your breasts, his fingers tweaking your nipples as he cock fucks you deeper and deeper. He breathes heavily as he pulls the hem of his shirt up, dead set on watching his cock disappear inside your wet folds.

And you watch in the mirror: his flat stomach glistening and moving in tandem with his needy thrusts while his hand swipes obliviously away at his bangs.

“F-Fuck you feel so good- You feel so fucking good, baby,”

You're clenching around him in the wake of his endless praise and your moans are amplified inside the bathroom.

“F-Fuck- Binnie-”

“Binnie?” He pants out with his fingers latching onto your hips, pulling you back to meet his furious thrusts, “Who the fuck's ‘Binnie’?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and your arms grow particularly weak when Wonbin hits that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. You're so completely cock drunk but Wonbin holds your weakening frame up with his hand around your throat.

Wonbin's lips tickle your ear as he says, “You wanna call me Daddy, don't you?”

You're absolutely fargone, and you're muttering incoherently while he uses you. In a moment like this, you would say yes to damn near anything.

“It's too m-much, Daddy,”

He's shaking his head, big eyes boring into yours as he tuts in a faux baby voice, “It's just the right amount, baby,” His thrusts grow irregular as he gazes down at your fucked out expression, “Daddy's fucking you just right, isn't he Princess-”

“Daddy, I'm gonna-”

“It's okay, Baby,” His melodic voice succeeds in bringing you to the crevice of your orgasm and melt into him, “You're listening so well, aren't you?” His voice cracks as he spills his seed inside of you, “S-So fucking good.” Wonbin buries his face in the crook of your neck as he shoots his cum inside of you. The hand on your neck never eases away and you're still caught in throes of pleasure when he splayed multiple drunken kisses against the side of your head

“God you're such a good girl.” He whispers before splaying one final kiss to the back of your head.

You would always be terrified that one day, you would wake up and realise that this big hearted raven haired boy had been a fragment of your imagination.

Nothing but a dream.

A really, really good dream.

That thought, no matter how irrational, never left you without a wave of unease.

"Now I need to brush your hair,"