#bambi.reqs

Chan coos and palms your cheek with his free hand as he drives his cock into you. “Open your eyes, baby girl. C’mon.”

The command is much easier said than done when Chan’s on top of you, his pace slow and his strokes deep just the way you like it. It’s not until he presses his thumb into your cheek insistently that your heavy lids flutter open again. Your fiance is stunning like this; sweaty and flushed and grinning, barely keeping his composure as he shepherds you through rolling hills of pleasure. All you can do is pant beneath him and take in the view.

“There’s my girl,” he praises when you lock eyes. He swivels his hips to reward you, relishing in the breathless moan the new angle pulls from you. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? I want you to see.” 

Beyond Chan is a mirror, mounted to the ceiling above the luxurious hotel bed that he’s fucking you on. It’s almost an out-of-body experience to take in things from this angle. Chan’s shape is so lean, muscles rippling under the skin of his back as he uses his body to cradle and rock you away. The view is almost as incredible as the way he makes your skin tingle, but you both know that’s not what he wants you to focus on. Chan wants you to see what he sees, see what he feels. He wants you to appreciate the curve of your hips beneath his, to recognize how exquisite the marks he leaves on your skin are, to witness the way your hair fanning out on the pillow supporting your head makes his body tighten as he holds off his own needs for just a little longer. If it were up to Chan, he’d only ever take you like this so you’d be constantly reminded of why he needs to ravish you and keep you forever. 

“Will you cum for me, lovely? ” he huffs, cock and mind both teetering on the edge of no return. 

You nod feverishly, gasping when he plants his hands on either side of your head so he can drag you off the cliff as well. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chant, lids slipping closed again.

Chan’s too close for patience now, growling at you through gritted teeth. “Then open your fucking eyes and watch yourself cum on my cock.”

You’ve learned that when Soonyoung is like this, he’s single-minded, consumed with the need to claim you. So you let him. Eager hands tweak your nipples roughly through your top as he traps you against the wall, lips instantly attaching to your neck. He doesn’t linger, though; he can’t when he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. 

Soonyoung’s fingernails lightly scratch your hips as he yanks your panties down, hurriedly praising you for wearing a skirt tonight to provide him easy access. He makes preparation quick, twisting two, then three fingers into your core, groaning as he imagines the bliss he’s about to enter. 

Just the kiss of your pussy lips against his cockhead is enough to make him blow his load, but Soonyoung’s goal is always to make you cum first, so he screws his eyes shut and peppers your collarbone in kisses instead as he sheathes himself in you. All of his restraint goes into holding off his orgasm, so he can’t spare you from the rest of the overflow: his pace is frantic, kisses turn sharp with teeth, and delicate fingers flex into a bruising grip on your supple flesh. 

No matter how many times he fucks you like this, erratic in the darkness of a cramped room, Soonyoung always manages to overwhelm you. When he’s pounding into you, everything you know is reduced to feeling. All you know is sweat, scratches, a stretch, and the delicious drag of his veiny cock against your walls. If you asked Soonyoung, he’d say he only feels love – true, but inaccurate. Right now, what he actually feels is your fingernails clawing into his biceps and your pussy nearly locking him into place as you cream around him. It all translates to seventh heaven and feverish “I love yous” as he pounds every ounce of his essence into you.

You’re both so lost in each other, in the thrill of finally releasing the tightness in your stomachs that you can only hear each other’s cries distantly. The same can’t be said for the staff members who awkwardly pass by the closet, waiting for you both to finish so they can return items to storage.

Mingyu is such a good puppy. So good, in fact, that you often feel the need to torture him. It sounds like a punishment, but for Mingyu it’s simply the leadup to some of the hardest orgasms he’s ever had. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say it’s torture for you; you’re always soaked within minutes and have to remind yourself not to cum twice as often as you remind him.

Tonight is particularly difficult for you. Mingyu’s been stressed lately, so he’s especially eager to be tied to a chair and submit to your will. He’s naked, a twinkling sheen of sweat adorning tight muscle as his cock stands up, curving deliciously toward his stomach. A layer of precum covers him from the tip of his dick down to his balls, each vein on his aching shaft glistening in the dim light of your shared bedroom. You’ve been working him up for 30 minutes now and like the obedient boy he is, he hasn’t cum yet. 

Seated on the floor between his open legs, you run your fingertips along his thighs, grinning as Mingyu exhales shakily above you. “You’re wetter than I am, puppy. All this is for me?”

“Mmhmm!” Mingyu hums immediately, hoping that he’ll be rewarded for answering as he’s been trained. 

For his troubles, you lean in and place your slick lips around just the head of cock, tongue swirling around to capture the seemingly endless pre leaking from the tip. Mingyu’s entire body lurches against his restraints as he practically wails; if not for the rope tethering him to his seat, he’d be at the back of your throat. You hold him in your mouth like that for only a few seconds, but that’s all it takes for the pitch of Mingyu's whines to change. They’re high and desperate, signaling just how close he is to completion. 

You pull away before he gets there, mouth slightly open so a thread of your saliva mixed with his essence can hang between his tip and your bottom lip. Looking up at him through your eyelashes like this is delightfully obscene and Mingyu tells you this by keening loudly when his gaze meets your eyes. The thread finally snaps when you smile up at him and praise him for being so good. 

Taking a moment for your own arousal to subside, you go back to feather-light touches, skimming over Mingyu’s balls and then his stomach and legs – everywhere but where he needs you most. Mingyu’s gotten a bit squirmy now, panting through every second of contact as if an electric current runs from you to him. It’s not until you can’t take anymore that you offer him real relief.

“Wanna cum?” you ask, resettling on your knees as you squeeze your thighs together, arousal spreading between them.

“Yes!” Mingyu shouts accidentally, too keyed up to hold himself together anymore. He corrects himself immediately, though, tucking his chin into his chest in appeasement. “Y-yes, sorry, yes. Please. Yes, I want to cum.”

Mingyu often trips over his own words when he’s flustered, but he takes things to a whole new level when he’s looking for release. It’s cute and you tell him so, giggling over the embarrassed pout he tries to hide even as you close both hands into tight fists around his length. 

There’s no need for teasing anymore – not when you’re both this needy. You put your shoulders into it, working Mingyu’s cock with so much vigor that you’re sure he can tell you’re just as desperate for him to cum as he is. Minyu’s entire body stiffens as the ropes bind him in place and a broken sob tumbles from his lips. 

“Mingyu,” you call. It falls on deaf ears at first – on another day, that’s definitely punishable – so you have to add more bass to your voice as you slow down to bring him back to you. “Mingyu, baby.”

The sound that bubbles up from Mingyu’s throat is something between a growl and a moan. He has to force himself to focus on you and not the pleasure that’s threatening to send him to another dimension. Even then, the most he can muster in response is, “Huh?”

“Is puppy ready to cum?” Your tone is patient, though the situation between your legs is dire. 

You already know what his answer is and close your fingers around him even tighter, almost painfully as you start to work him again. The glide of your soft palms on his cock is heavenly and more importantly, inescapable.

Mingyu’s “yes” that follows has a trail of “s”s before he starts outright babbling, “Yes, yes, yes please, yes, please, yes, please, please, please, yes, PLEASE!” The last one is somehow both a shout, yet breathless as Mingyu finally cums, thick ropes of white painting stomach.

After what feels like an eternity, Mingyu’s form goes lax in the chair, sated. He hums appreciatively feeling you lightly squeeze at the muscles of his legs, then his arms, then as your fingers splay across his chest as you lean up to kiss him tenderly.

“Feel good, pup?” you whisper when you pull away to rest your forehead against his. “So good,” he whispers back. “Thank you.” He closes his eyes as he basks in the joint warmth of you and afterglow. 

You sit there like that, enjoying each other as your heart rates come down together. When you start to move, Mingyu figures it’s to untie him so you can cuddle. But then he feels dainty fingers scooping the cooling spunk off his abs and opens his eyes to catch you spreading it on your drenched pussy before taking some more to start pumping his dick back to full mast. 

There’s a fire of defiance in Soonyoung’s eyes as he returns your gaze from where he lays spread eagle on the bed, furiously fisting his cock. He plays up his performance of ecstasy, moaning loudly as he lets his head roll back on the pillow that’s propping up his neck. You cock your head slightly as you lean against the doorframe of your bedroom, but continue to watch wordlessly, committing each of Soonyoung’s sounds and movements to memory. It’s not long before Soonyoung’s limbs are tight and shaky – he’s not exaggerating anymore. Each time the head of his cock peeks through the vice grip of his hand he hisses and swears, adding perfect lyrics to the sound of lube precum squelching in his grasp. When you catch him peeking at you he drops trying to hide what he wants entirely. 

Soonyoung doesn’t ask to cum. He lets his muscles tighten painfully and then relax, groaning loud and deep like he used to before he knew you. Before he surrendered his body – and by extension his orgasms – to you. Before you were there to wind him up into a whiny, needy slut and only find relief when you said so. 

The silent conversation between you and Soonyoung ends when his breathing steadies and he lets out a low, satisfied hum as dark brown orbs meet yours once again. This was a demand for attention. Lucky for him, it’s your favorite thing to provide.

“O-oh f-f-fuck! Fuck!” Soonyoung cries as you tweak his nipples, head dropping so you’re forehead-to-forehead.

“Language,” you remind him sternly.

It’s difficult to sound unaffected with Soonyoung rutting into you off rhythm, but hard and right in the spot you need him most. He’s been loving you, worshiping you, fucking you for years at this point; even when he’s delirious with need, he knows exactly how to burrow into yours until he’s all you can think of. Nonetheless, you must maintain as much composure as you can if this punishment is going to be successful.

“S-sorry! Sorry, Mommy, it was-s an-n-n accident.” Soonyoung has been plunging into the depths of your velvet walls for at least an hour now. You’ve already cum several times, but at your order he hasn’t at all, circling atop the whirlpool of orgasm to the point of painful sensitivity.

Soonyoung had demanded attention, but didn’t specify what kind. You’re simply filling in the gaps for him by eeking out every drop of his sanity with your body. 

“Mm, I forgive you, baby,” you sigh breathlessly as Soonyoung hikes you up by your hips to roll into you deeper than before.

“Tha-ank you, M-Mommy! Can- Can I-I?” 

The laugh you let out barely disguises the moan that Soonyoung’s cock drives from you. “What do you think, Soonie? Think you’ve learned your lesson?”

Soonyoung’s head bobbles above you as he nods feverishly, whimpering as you tighten yourself around him with your question. “Mmhmm!” is the best verbal response he can offer. 

Truthfully, you haven’t got much longer before you lose this battle of endurance. Soonyoung isn’t even really competing anymore, but you want to rub his nose in the predicament he’s created one last time before letting go. 

So you chastise him even as your climax licks at the corners of your vision. “Where’s my apology, then?”

“‘M s-sorry,” he pants, struggling to pull out of you enough to even thrust with how tightly your pussy is starting to grip around his swollen cock. 

“For?” you egg him on, your own voice raising an octave as your climax threatens to overtake you.

Soonyoung’s too far gone to care about your mask slipping or how pathetic he seems at this moment. His tiny grunts and whines are already signaling that he’s lost, ready to completely submit to your will if it might provide even a crumb of relief. 

“What are you sorry for, Soonie?” The sound of your voice barely catches him in time to bring him back to your conversation. “U-um! Uh!” He may be present, but clearly, the searing kiss of your pussy around him has addled his mind. 

You start to speak aloud of one of your many rules until Soonyoung starts mumbling them out and you can just mouth along beneath him.

“‘M sorry f-for being a g-greedy slut and…touching – ha – M-M-Mommy’s – nngh – property withou-out p-permission. Mommy!” 

You cum around Soonyoung’s length once more and wrap your arms around his back to bring your sweaty bodies together. Soonyoung nearly sobs as you squeeze, forcing your torsos together so all he can do is thrust sloppily into your hole as you finally give him permission to succumb to his release.

“Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!” Soonyoung rushes out before he screams weakly into your shoulder, body seizing up as hot cum fills you with an almost violent force. 

The two of you stay together like that for a few minutes, sticky and gasping for oxygen as Soonyoung’s spend begins to leak lazily from your abused cunt.

Soonyoung knows the polite way to get your attention, but sometimes begging for your forgiveness is much more fun.

You hear Wonwoo sigh, then the gentle clink of earthenware being set on your nightstand before long fingers reach into your comforter and peel it back to reveal your face. Your hair is disheveled and you’re a bit pale, but the pout that’s settled onto your features as you return his bemused stare makes his heart flip.

“Wonwoo,” you finally rasp after being exposed, “I’m dying.”

He sits gingerly on the bed next to you, planting a kiss on your forehead before replying. “You’re not dying, sweetheart. But you will if you don’t eat.”

The press of his warm lips on your forehead is soothing, but does little to assuage your disappointment about all the plans you’ve had to cancel this week. “What’s the point in eating if I can’t have the seasonal stuff I’ve been waiting all year for?” 

“What do you mean? Chicken noodle soup is seasonal.” 

“Is not,” you whine, ignoring the way he smirks down at you playfully. A little teasing and faux ignorance have always been his way of making you giggle even when you don’t want to. And now you actually do want to, but the pang of missed opportunity is still at the forefront of your mind. “We were supposed to go look at Christmas lights and go caroling and ice skating and make gingerbread houses and just… There’s so much stuff I wanted to do, but I’m stuck here.”

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up his nose and sniffles, hurt. “‘Stuck’? You hate being with me that much?”

You sigh, sitting up to look at him better. Behind the warmth in his eyes is a hint of worry. Even though you know Wonwoo’s joking, you feel a pang of guilt for making him concerned in the first place. Suddenly not-seasonal soup is more appealing. “You know that’s not it, babe. There’s just…so much that we’re missing, you know? There’s so much that I wanted to do.”

Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way you tilt your head toward the nightstand, attempting to take more whiffs of the lunch he’s prepared for you through your stuffy nose. He moves to fluff the pillows behind your back before taking the spoon in his hand to feed you. Raised eyebrows above his lenses is all it takes for your weak glower to transform into an open, waiting mouth. Even on your worst days, he’s always there to comfort you. When you accept a few spoonfuls, Wonwoo is satisfied enough to answer. “We can do plenty of stuff here, you know. Movies, hot chocolate…some more soup, maybe.”

“That’s nice in theory, but you’ll get sick too.”

“Well–” he says thoughtfully, stirring your lunch again before taking some for himself, “– now it’s guaranteed. We can be sick together. So, how about that movie date?”

You draw your knees to your chest, throwing the blanket off of you so he can’t sneak another tickle. “Sorry! This movie’s just boring.”

“Boring? You picked it.” Seungcheol closes the distance between the two of you on the couch again, placing a hand on the back cushion so he can bring his face close to yours. “Your movie, you watch it.”

“And if I say ‘no’?” you ask, puffing up your chest in defiance.

“Well if you say ‘no’, I’ll just have to…” Seungcheol’s eyes scan your body, looking for an opening. He doesn’t finish his sentence when he finds it, instead lunging on top of you so he can tickle the exposed skin on your neck. 

You screech again, wriggling under your boyfriend’s weight and giggling madly as his fingers dance across your skin. The only thing that stops Seungcheol’s assault is a conspicuously loud clap of thunder – and the crack of your foreheads slamming together. You both recoil immediately, hissing and groaning as you cradle your heads in your hands gingerly. Seungcheol nurses his wound only for a moment, springing into action when he squints and sees you’re in pain too. 

“Baby,” he coos, scooting back over to you, “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

Even now, you’re snickering, taken by just how much joy can come from the most childish moments if they’re happening with Seungcheol. You try to waive him off, saying you’re fine, but your ever-attentive partner won’t have it. 

Seungcheol bats your hands away, his own coming up to hold your head like it’s fine china. “Ssh, lemme see.” You sit still as he inspects your forehead for bruising, knowing all too well that it’s easier just to let him fuss than convince him that you’re uninjured. When he seems satisfied, he sits back to inspect you in full. 

You grin back at him, appreciative of his concern even though it’s overblown the majority of the time. “Cheol, I’m not going to keel over. Really.”  You reach to hold his hand, but Seungcheol has other plans, yanking you forward and then forcing you to turn around so he can spoon you sitting up. Seungcheol wraps his arms around your torso, squeezing tight before leaning over to burrito you both in the blanket once again. 

Once your back is settled against his chest and your chuckles subside, Seungcheol peppers you with kisses, sumptuous lips pressing into your shoulders, the back of your neck, the side of your head – whatever he can reach. 

“Sorry, baby,” he says again. “Love you so much.”