Vanessa

Noticing his silence for a few minutes, you whisper the spell to pause the reaction and slowly walk up to him. His pale green wings were shining in the sparse sunlight filtering through the canopy of the tree. You stroke his smooth pinkish skin, gently caressing his tiny cheek, he leans into your touch but his frown is still there.

"What happened baby, won't you speak to me?"

He considers your words for a few moments, finally pulling his body away from you.

"You didn't use the flowers I brought, look, they are starting to wilt. Do you know how heavy they were?" He whined.

"Baby, I've told you to drink potus vi before lifting things, haven't I?" you cooed, "You know that I need to dry these flowers to make potus sanatio. I'm not ignoring them baby, and I like wilted flowers, better potency."

He scrowns upon hearing those words, "well, not everything is about potency! Some things can be about love!" He throws his hands up and flies away to sit one of the cabinets near the window.

"You know, maybe sometimes we could talk about something nice! Something ROMANTIC! Other than, ugh, potency!" He loudly complains as he flies all around the room, the small trinkets on his arms and waists jingling softly.

"What do you want to talk about honey, I'm all ears." You turn your head towards him but he flies away, refusing to look at you.

"Hongjoong, my darling, won't you tell me? Hmm." You tilt your head towards him, "come here, sit near me."

He's perched up on your work table, his halds folded over his chest, "Come to me! My wings are tired. You know from lifting those calendulas for you! Which are heavy when fresh, but what's the point, you like them wilted." He shudders as he speaks. "How can you like wilted flowers?!"

You can't help but giggle at his tantrum, he looks so cute, all frustrated, his wings slightly parted, his pink skin reflecting the black of your table, glowing in a murky purple, but your giggling irritates him further. He jumps up and turns his back from you, refusing to talk to you.

He does that a lot, taking advantage of his tiny fairy proportions and oh, his wings, always flying around the hut. He loves to help you by bringing rare materials from tiny crevices of the forest bed for your potions, usually, he drinks potus vi, to increase the strength of his arms and wings but he refuses to use it when bringing you gifts, saying that his hardwork is what makes it a gift, just like he did with those beautiful calendulas.

Its not like that you dont like fresh flowers, you love them, but potion making usually requires wilted flowers, so you had accepted the wilt, even started to like the fading smell of wilted flowers.

You could have used the calendulas he brought you when they were fresh, but you didn't want to. You had wanted to look them for a little longer before you had to sacrifice them to your ever consuming cauldron.

"Baby, I like them, see, they are displayed on my cabinets so that I can see them, even while working! Honey... Hongjoong, look at me." You coo at him and move towards the table on which he stood on.

"Baby, I wanted to look at them for a little longer, that's why I had let them wilt, so they can last longer with me. You know that baby." You say while gently stroking his wings, making him sway with you touch.

"Babyyy...." you whisper bending down to his eye level, he slowly turns towards you, his frown gone.

"You're serious? You are not saying this just because I'm mad at you?" He asks so softly that you could have missed it, only if you two weren't so close.

"Yes baby, that's why I always let them wilt."

"What about your lovely potency?"

"Well, that too."

He lets out a little chuckle, slowly flying to sit on your palm and pressing a soft kiss on your thumb. You pick him up to press a soft kiss on his cheek, your lips engulfing almost half of his face, causing him to huff out a laugh.

"You are trying to suffocate me miss! I'll die from these kisses one day!" He speaks between giggles, he always says that when you kiss his face. His words makes you smile, and he swipes his hands over your face sprinkling fairy dust on your cheeks, the shiny substance settling in your smile lines.

He moves his hands from your face, and after a long moment he says, "I'm tired of sitting in home, aren't you?"

"No, why would I be darling, its our home?"

"But its so dark! No sun! You need sunlight honey!"

"Ugh just say that you want to go on a walk, you know I'll do it."

He smiles cheekily upon hearing that, flying away towards the door, caressing your hair while doing so.

You both cross the garden that surrounds your sweet abode, hidden in plain sight as the result of a few simple spells you had cast. Hongjoong is flying right in front of you, his face towards the sky soaking in the sunlight falling on his shiny skin.

The fairy dust he left on your face is turning pink in the sun, shining brightly. He keeps complimenting how good you look in glitter everytime he sprays fairy dust on you, the pink suits you, he says.

"I like the mauve gowns you always wear, but shouldn't you try something new?" He says still bathing in the sunlight.

"I don't like new, Hongjoong"

"Huh, well falling in love with a fairy is new enough to me."

You sigh upon hearing his words, he always had an affinity towards new experiences, well, its not really a bad thing because that's how you two had met, but it had gotten him in trouble many times, especially his desire to socialise with humans, you warn him that not all humans are like you, they can exploit his magic for their gain.

He knows that too, but his optimism gets the best of him sometimes, one of the worst incident was when another witch, that worked with the scientists, tried to use his wings for experiments. It had taken months for him to recover, even with the strongest doses of potus sanatio.

"Well, lets not try too many new things, hmm?"

He sighs as he turns towards the wild flower bed that he had planted in his favourite part of the forest, a small secluded area surrounded with huge trees and filled with multiple logs covered in long vines of bindweeds, the purple and white flowers also adorning the mossy ground.

He sits on one of the flowers, breathing in its faint scent. You sit next to him, on the log, the moss soft and damp below your long skirt. The fresh air relaxing you, you release out a sigh, Hongjoong flies upto your shoulder and kisses your ears, slightly tickling you. You laugh as you lay down on the log, enjoying the sun on your skin.

Hongjoong lays down on your chest, looking at your relaxed face, smiling as he closes his eyes. You both slowly drift in a sweet land of dreams surrounded by the sweeter embrace of love.

First time writing fluff kinda nervous.

San

Mingi

Wooyoung

Jongho

hongjoong:

seonghwa:

yunho:

yeosang:

san:

mingi:

wooyoung:

jongho:

A/N: basically I was tapping into my domme brain and thought about how they are all so beautifully bottom but each of them would need a specific domme energy brought to the table, making them fall apart in their own filthy, unique way. please consume responsibly. this has been in my drafts for over a year and I finally finished wahoo! enjoy my cherries ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊ feedback is always welcomed!

ཐིཋྀ ⸻ domme energy types:

degrader ⸝⸝⸝♡ you like them embarrassed ⛓️ teasing, humiliation, name-calling

mindfuck mistress ⎊ you own their headspace ⛓️ anticipation, denial, slow unraveling

brat tamer 𖤐 you live for the backtalk just so you can ruin them painfully slow and put them in their place

overstim queen ⭑⭒ you don’t stop at one orgasm, you stop when they cry (and maybe not even then)

caretaker 𓂃𓈒𓏸 you ruin them gently ⛓️ praise, nurturing, and control with affection

power worshipper ⟡˚˖ you dominate through being adored ⛓️ they serve, you receive

now let’s see which hands each member crumbles under…

🐶 𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽， 𝗈𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗒

best domme match: overstim queen + caretaker

whimpers when you touch him, cries when you edge him. whispers “thank you” through tears after his third orgasm.

feeds off your praise and gets rock hard just from your voice.

wants to please you more than he wants to breathe.

he’s on his back, legs parted, wrists tied to the headboard in soft silk. flushed from head to toe, hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving with every shaking inhale, thighs trembling—he’s wrecked.

“you’re doing so well for me, baby. just one more, I know you can.” you purr, palms pressed flat to his chest as you straddle his hips, still hot, wet, and pulsing around him—your bodies warm and sticking together.

he whimpers, fingers curling into fists, trying to stay grounded.

he’s already come undone three times, and he’s barely holding on—hips stuttering, jaw slack, tears streaking down his reddened cheeks.

his abs contract, breath catching in broken gasps, his whole body on the verge of collapse. he blinks up at you with glossy eyes, mouth parted, barely able to form a sentence—completely gone, nothing but a pretty mess beneath you.

“please—I’ll do anything, I just want to be good for you—” he chokes, voice cracking.

his cock is aching, raw and swollen. so sensitive it jumps at every brush of your walls engulfing him, twitching helplessly even before you move.

your hips roll slow and cruel, dragging another raw sound from his throat as he squirms beneath you. you clamp down and his entire body jerks. he’s overstimulated beyond reason—hard again, throbbing inside you, scared of how intense it feels.

his head rolls back and he sobs helplessly, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming, blurring into pain. “I can’t- I—please, it’s t-too much…fuck.”

“yes, you can,” you brush the damp dark locks from his face. “you’ve been so good. just one more for me, sweetheart.”

if cock-draining was an olympic sport, you’d be taking gold with how many times he’s spilled himself inside you—but you still want more from your pathetically fucked-dumb angel.

he cries out, erection twinging uncontrollably in your wet heat as you grind down on him without pause, his hazy, fluttering gaze locking with yours.

“th-thank you—” he mutters breathlessly.

“good boy…” you whisper as your lips kiss his throat gently.

if he cums again, he’s finished—and he knows it. but he’s going to do it anyway, for you.

🔥 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌

best domme match: overstim queen + mindfuck mistress

his entire body is one big please wreck me signal.

gets sensitive fast, moans loud, loses his mind from overstimulation and slow control.

gets hard again and again even as he’s sobbing—you live for the way he breaks.

thighs squeezed together, whimpering when you pry them apart. he’s slouched in his gaming chair, flushed and leaking, cock twitching in the cool air like it’s begging for mercy.

you lean down and kiss his pelvis—slow, unhurried—before dragging your tongue up his length without giving him what he really wants. his hips jerk like you just short-circuited something inside him.

your fist wraps around him: slick with your spit and his cum, already stiffening again, thrumming hot against your hand. “such a pretty cock you have…always so eager for more.”

hovering over him with a smirk, your fingers brush just under the tip—barely—and he shudders, breath catching like it physically hurts to be touched.

you stroke him once. pause. twice. then stop again.

“p-please—” he gasps, hips shifting helplessly in the chair, chasing after your grasp. “don’t tease—just—”

you giggle—cruel and sweet—then click your tongue, “look at you—still twitching? didn’t I say I wasn’t done?”

he half-sobs, thighs tensing, needy little whimpers that melt into moans as he reaches out for your wrist, grabbing hold of the one that’s working him.

“ah ah,” you chide, shaking him off, “don’t get greedy.”

denied, his hand drops back and claws at the armrest, leather creaking under his piercing grip, knuckles white as you pump him in agonizing strokes, his whole body squirms under your touch.

he’s panting hard now like he just ran a marathon, each breath stuttering, chest heaving as your thumb swipes over the slit and makes him cry out.

“it’s t-too much, I can’t—oh fuck, fuck, I—” his voice breaks completely, your name caught on a sob, erection pulsing and leaking into your palm.

you tighten your hold a bit, edging him steadily, keeping him right of the precipice of release and then snatching it away. his body convulses in defeat, head thrown back, eyes fluttering and his adam’s apple bobbing with desperation.

it’s a sight, truly—how intensely he falls apart. his face red to the tips of his ears. eyes shining with tears he’s too wrecked to wipe away. and you’re not stopping. not yet.

“don’t you dare,” you grab him by the chin and kiss him sloppily, searching the inside of his mouth with your tongue before pulling away, “you’ll take it until I say so.”

his body shakes. “please—please—” he blinks up at you, pleading and barely coherent. he doesn’t know how much more he can take—his brain’s gone fuzzy, vision blurring at the edges.

but you don’t let up. milking him with unforgiving fingers until he’s ruined and still reaching in his chair: soaked, quivering, barely able to breathe past the sounds he makes for you.

🐱 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗁

best domme match: brat tamer + degrader

talks back. tests limits. pretends he’s in control—until you yank it away ruthlessly.

loves being manhandled, tied down, and told to shut up.

melts when you finally praise him after making him work for it.

you’ve got him pinned to the wall, wrists bound behind him with your red lace thong. he’s smirking like he’s still in control—

one hand curls tight around his throat—unrelenting, possessive—the other shoved beneath his shirt, fingers grazing up to his nipple. you pinch, just hard enough to make him jerk. his whimper sharp and throaty.

“what’s that? not so smug now with my hand on your throat?” your nails drag lightly over his skin before giving the bud a sharper twist.

the grin slips. his lips part. he’s still trying to hold it in—chin tilted, jaw clenched—but the moan claws its way up anyway, all breath and tremble.

his lashes flutter, heat blooming high on his cheeks as your thumb brushes over his nipple again—slower this time, crueler. he gasps, hips twitching instinctively. melting.

“sensitive here?” you tease, lifting his shirt higher so you can duck your head and flick your warm tongue over the delicate nub.

when you suck, his whole body squirms, skin prickling.

“you—” he chokes out, breath catching again, eyes already glassy like he hates how much he likes this.

now comes the pouting—chin tucked, brows furrowed, cock rock-hard and grinding into your thigh like it had a mind of its own, unraveling like clockwork.

“f—fuck—” he throws his head back and gulps, “you.”

“aw, is my little fucktoy hard?” his face turns as red as a cherry while you giggle mockingly, “want me to make you cum?”

he nods too fast, hips rutting helplessly as your words echo in his head. he’s already leaking into his underwear, a damp patch darkening the fabric and sticking to your leg, giving him away.

“say you’re sorry or I’ll edge you tonight. over and over. no release.” you growl.

he freezes. whines low. “sorry—I’m really sorry, please…” he breathes, broken and dizzy for it, voice cracking as he begs.

you smile, devilish and slow, dragging your knee up against his clothed length until he sobs out another strangled whimper. “so needy for me already… and I’ve barely touched you.”

“p-please…” he choked gasps rumble from his chest as you rub your knee against his sensitive bulge.

“shut up and open your mouth,” you command, gripping his chin with a vice between your fingers.

hesitantly, he parts his thick lips. without warning, you drool spit onto his tongue and watch his eyes roll back, like he was drunk off the mere taste of you.

“swallow it, my pretty little slut.” you coo, biting and licking at his throat as he gulps hard, clutching your waist for dear life.

🪞 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁

best domme match: mindfuck mistress + power worshipper

he knows how to dominate—but loves surrendering to someone sharper.

tease him, make him beg to cum, humiliate him just enough to see him break.

wants to serve but will never admit it until you pull it out of him.

“you look so pretty like this. all that control gone,” your voice low in his ear and bruising clutch against his rear.

he hates how much he loves being vulnerable like this—nude, ass up, eyes locked on the long mirror while your fingers spread him open tauntingly slow, like you’re unwrapping a gift he doesn’t deserve.

“keep your eyes on yourself,” your nails digging into his hips. “I want you to watch the way you fall apart for me.”

he swallows hard, throat bobbing, cock twitching underneath him. he nods—barely. his voice is gone, replaced by shaky breaths and bitten whines.

“pathetic,” you don’t raise your voice, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. “wet and untouched. I should leave you like this.”

he flinches when your thumb glides over the glistening pink flesh between his cheeks, exposing his pretty little hole to the cool air and the full view in the mirror.

he can’t look away—even as his face burns, even as shame twists in his gut, his eyes stay glued to the reflection.

“look at you,” your breath hot on his skin as you lower yourself behind him. “fucking perfect like this—needy and soaked for me.”

your tongue drags slowly over the sensitive ring of muscle, teasing, licking with lazy precision until he lets out a guttural moan—sharp and wrecked—hips bucking forward only to be yanked back by your grip on his waist.

“want to cum already?” you tease, ignoring the way his hips jerk. “you haven’t earned it yet.”

he chokes on a sob, nodding frantically, face pressed to the sheets. “ah—fuck, please—” his voice cracks. “feels s’good, please…”

when your tongue presses in, firm and unyielding, his thighs tremble. head dizzy, back arched, hole fluttering as your spit slicks him up. each inhale punches through him, ragged and loud.

then your fingers follow—one, then two, pushing in soft and deep, scissoring him wide until his legs shake and his moans dissolve into pliant, broken whimpers.

“tell me what you are—” curling your fingers just right, you admire how he clenches and melts around you.

“…yours.”

🐺 𝗌𝖺𝗇 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌

best domme match: brat tamer + caretaker

pushes back at first. growls, groans, tries to keep composure.

but once you get him on his knees? he gets addicted.

he worships hard, loves praise, and needs aftercare like air. you’ll ruin him, then hold him close.

he starts it—grinning as he wrestles with you on the couch, playful but smug, cocky with every dodge and grab.

you flip him fast, straddling his hips, pinning his wrists down. his breath catches. the smirk starts to fade.

“still think you’re in charge?” your lips brush his ear, tightening your grip until he squirms beneath you.

you slide off his lap and command—“on your knees, now.”

his chest heaves, hesitation flickering in his eyes. but he drops, slowly, sinking to the floor in front of you.

you walk away to the bedroom. his eyes follow you the whole time—until he sees what you pull from the drawer.

the strap.

he shifts on his knees, visibly aching—hard and straining against the fabric of his sweats, his breath coming shallow now as you approach him.

“open up.” you guide it to his lips, and he obeys. tongue first, then deeper—licking, sucking, moaning around it like it’s your real cock, completely devouring it. you groan at the sight.

he’s practically shaking by the time you pull back—spit-slicked lips, glossy-eyed, flushed. you’re mesmerized by how ethereal and slutty he looks, full of need and hunger.

“keep behaving for me… I’ll take care of you, pretty thing,” softly dragging your thumb across his wet mouth, “now turn around and bend over.”

he whimpers and drapes himself over the back of the couch, hips raised in full submission as you come behind him, shoving his pants to his ankles.

your palm caresses his hip as you line up the toy to his tight heat, sliding in slow—inch by inch—your hands firm on his waist as he moans, fluttering and clenching around your faux cock.

“you always fight so hard—until I’m inside you.” you tease, thrusting deep until his breath stutters, eyes rolling back as he claws at the cushions.

“p-please…fuck—d-don’t stop,” he begs and whines, legs trembling with every snap of your hips.

the pace builds, your voice in his ear—“that’s it, baby. just like that, be good and take all of me.” pressing your lips to the back of his neck, you reach around and fist his throbbing cock, stroking gingerly and watch him fold entirely under your touch.

when it’s over and he’s boneless and quiet, cum leaking down his thigh, he slumps against you, sweaty and panting, eyes sparkling with bliss.

you thread your fingers through his hair, lips brushing his temple as he shudders in your arms, murmuring praise—“you did so well, my good boy. I’ve got you.”

🐻 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽

best domme match: overstim queen + degrader

built like a wall, yet you tear him down like paper.

he tries to be quiet, to hold it together. he fails.

the first time he moans for you, it’s all downhill—he’s vibrating, trembling, shocked by how much he’s falling apart. and you love every second of it.

you return home from store, parking in the driveway, neighbors chattering just beyond the windows, everything seemingly normal. that is, until you climb into the backseat.

“come here,” you grab at his shoulder and he hesitates for a moment but obeys, joining you next to the bagged milk.

making out turns heavy fast. his hot mouth moves lithely against yours, tongues massaging together, devouring each other. you straddle him within minutes, seated gently.

hands sliding up and down your thighs, squeezing your flesh and dusting his fingertips under the hem of your skirt. his hips jerk like he wants to stop it—but he can’t.

“fuck…baby—what are you doing?” he curses against your lips but you don’t hear a thing, moaning into him and unconsciously rutting your hips back and forth.

riding him over his clothes, your fingers tangle in his hair as you suck and nip his lips hungrily, until his head’s spinning from it.

soon enough you feel how hard he is under the denim, the bulge poking your cunt at the perfect angle for you to thrust against. “two more days of denial, right? so, you can have this.”

his cock is already on edge, drooling through the fabric at the slightest friction. he’s beyond needy and has been gagging for release, not allowed to touch himself either.

grinding your core with wrecking motion, it drives him crazy. his desperate hold roams behind you, gripping your ass roughly, kissing you with low, stuttering huffs.

he lets out a frustrated groan, your hands splaying across his muscular chest, nails digging in his shirt to keep him grounded as he spirals and squirms. you press yourself down harder.

“wait—hold on, I-” he’s babbling in protest but you won’t relent.

you rub more against the strain in his pants: once, twice, and then he’s convulsing, hips stuttering as he spills in his jeans, gasping with humiliation burning on his face.

“already?” you smirk mockingly, cupping his flushed face as his eyes flutter, “poor thing…and here I am just getting started.”

dragging it out, you roll your hips without mercy, his fingers dig into your waist—white-knuckled, useless—choking on whimpers that dissolve into sobs.

your mouth latches onto his throat. his soaked length twitches beneath you, still trapped in his boxers, painfully tender. the raw scrape of his damp clothes only worsens it, every drag over his erection feeling like fire.

he’s flustered and slick with sweat, his voice cracks as he tries to whisper through gritted teeth, “p-please, too much—can’t…”

he erupts again without warning, crying out, unsatisfied and messy, thighs quaking as his body writhes, trying to pull away but you just keep him pinned.

you coo at him as if he’s a toy, “make those sounds again. louder. let me hear what this does to you.” swiveling even slower over his cock, watching heat rise up his neck as he breaths erratically.

“didn’t think I’d get you like this, huh? look at you now.” your words taunt him, hating how much he loves it, hating how effortlessly he breaks apart for you.

eyes glassy, he begs—not for more, but for less. “b-baby…n-no more, I—fuck—can’t.”

your broken name caught on his tongue, he’s gone. completely gone, clawing at your skin, desperate to pretend it’ll stop the overwhelming pleasure tearing through him.

🦋 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒

best domme match: mindfuck mistress + caretaker

sensitive, elegant, reserved—until he’s not.

you draw the filth out of him. loves when you keep him on edge. blushes when you praise him.

gasps and shakes when you whisper what you’ll do to him next. you control the build-up perfectly.

crimson rope over flushed skin, arms bound behind him, shoulders tense, the delicate ripple of pink silk under his thighs.

he sits upright against the pillows and headboard, completely nude, legs parted under your lingering, heated gaze. his perfect form on full display as you stalk the foot of the bed in awe.

“look at you…you’re such a pretty toy sangie,” you coo, biting the tip of your finger to resist touching him for now, “all tied up and on display—just for me.”

his eyes darting to where your lingerie hugs your curves. you settle between his knees, sitting on the heels of your feet.

leaning down, you kiss his knee, then the inside of his thigh, lips grazing closer—but you don’t give his cock any attention, instead you continue to kiss up his abdomen, trail across his hips, and drag your tongue along the crease of his thigh.

his erection reddened and twitching but untouched.

a shared kiss is…ravenous. full of need and lust, tongues rolling harmoniously, leaving your mouths wet and tingly. his body instinctively slumps forward, trying to get more of you.

resting your hand on his chest, you push him back, giggling under your breath, “down, boy. treats reward patience, right?”

you’re gentle but commanding, making him anticipate your next move. your finger circles around his tip, playing with the drooling pre-cum, watching him quiver under your touch.

“you look too cute when you’re trembling…think you deserve to cum yet?” his muscles tense under his bare skin at your toying words, already overwhelmed by the attention and praise.

“I’m going to suck your cock now, baby,” you whisper against his swollen tip, tongue flicking along the slit once, “and you tell me when you’re going to cum, okay? I want it all down my throat.”

his whole body shudders, nods too fast, voice caught easily.

you hum around his tip, the vibrations making him gasp—his thighs jerking on either side of you as your tongue laps at the underside of his cock.

then you take him deeper. slow, steady, until your nose brushes his skin and your throat flutters around him.

you pull off completely every time he gets close. he whines and stutters, “p-please, I was close…”

you smile, staring into his tear-brimmed eyes, “good, then do it again.”

he cries out, voice breaking, barely able to warn you through moans and sobs, “c-cumming—”

but you don’t stop. not even when he spills down your throat, hands fisting nothing behind him, whimpering as you swallow every drop.

when you finally pull off with a wet pop, he’s flushed and dazed, breathing ragged, barely able to lift his head.

“good boy,” you purr, licking your lips as you cup his jaw, “so pretty when you let go for me.”

🧃 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺 ⸻ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎

best domme match: power worshipper + caretaker

will literally cry while going down on you because he’s so desperate to please.

hands always roaming your thighs, eyes locked on yours, begging “please let me taste you again”.

he thrives on obedience and praise.

when you arrive home, he’s already in position, waiting eagerly by the door exactly as you instructed. it’s impossible not to smile.

on all fours, naked, wearing his collar and leash, and stuffed inside his chrome silver cock cage.

you take him around to the kitchen, settling your ass on the table as you part your legs in front of him, revealing a lack of panties covering your holes.

“wanna taste?” you tease, slipping your fingers through your wet folds as his eyes widen and a spit of drool lingers at the corner of his mouth.

he nods and licks his lips hungrily, rutting his hips against the air.

“tsk, tsk.” a soft moan escapes your throat as you played with yourself, making him whimper. “mmm…not until you beg for it. use your words.”

“please…please mommy…” he whines, his boba eyes shimmering with tears, “I’ll do anything, just let me make you feel good—”

you place the bottom of your toes to his lips, cutting off his cries.

“then prove it.”

kissing each toe like it’s holy, he sucks gently with his tongue attentively curling around them.

a hand grips your ankle as he moans into the arch of your foot.

his eyes glassy, silently pleading for praise—but you don’t say a word…not yet. he looks too pretty when he’s needy.

“enough.” you snatch your leg away, scooting to the edge of the table, pointing to the space directly between your thighs. “sit right here and stick your tongue out.”

he obeys without hesitation.

you move to bury his tongue into your juicy center, grinding on his mouth as your hand fists his hair, riding his face with ease.

“that’s it, hwa. just like that. keep your tongue out for me.”

eyes locked with yours, he groans into you and you giggle as his hands lovingly caress your thighs.

“you can move your tongue now. eat me as you wish.” that’s all the signal he needs to start sucking your aching clit, plunging his tongue deep into your hot core.

you curse his name, giving his hair another firm tug. he works you like you were his last meal, his devotion knowing no end.

his flat tongue glides up and down your insides, stirring the fiery pressure in your gut. “good boy, you’re gonna make mama cum.”

your cunt flutters around his tongue as your orgasm ripples through you and he laps up every trickle of cum that spills past his lips, moaning against your sopping flesh.

“you did so well, hwa,” you purr breathlessly, patting his head.

your foot flicks against his caged cock as you bite your lip with a devilish expression, “should I free you as a reward?”

“if you want…” he kisses your knee, stifling his grunts each time you give a soft kick to his crotch.

“you gonna cum a lot for mama if I let you out?” dragging your foot along his groin, you press lightly on his gut and watch him quiver with delicate restraint.

visibly swallowing hard, he still nods eagerly as he rubs his face against your leg, like a cat in heat.

“anything mama wants…” he rasps, earning a pleased grin from you, his patience attracting you like a moth to a flame.

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