I Could F*ck You All The Time
Title: I Could F*ck You All The Time
Pairing: Kai/girl!Zitao
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Unprotected sex, genderbent member
Summary: Zitao hates being late for class, but she doesn’t necessarily mind the reason why.
Notes: follow my twitter/tumblr @vipjuly to get updates on the fly! i’m on tumblr way more than twitter, so if you ever want to contact me / see what’s going on in my fic world, follow me and interact with me there! all posts are cross-linked to my twitter bc i can’t be bothered to log in lmao.
i could fuck you all the time;
There’s something absolutely, definitively exquisite about having Zitao on her knees, looking up at Jongin through false lashes with her smokey eyes. It’s art, the way she leans into the touch of his fingers on her slim jaw, and even though there’s a smudge of foundation on his fingers when he pulls them away, he could care less. Her lips, stained cherry red from a peel-off lip tint, wrap so perfectly around the head of his cock, her tongue dipping into the slit and gathering the precum. It’s barely seven in the morning, and they’re supposed to be getting ready for class, but he’d rather have Zitao for breakfast… and apparently: vice versa. She never complains about the hard tile against her soft knees, she never complains when she gets to class three minutes late, and she never complains about having to touch up her makeup whenever they finish a session. Zitao is perfect. Jongin loves her.
She’d switched to lip tints when her lipsticks left a residue and a weird taste on Jongin’s skin. He’s appreciative of that. His hands slide over her shoulders, over his shirt which was haphazardly thrown over her body last night while she prepared for bed. He grips the wrinkled material, tugs on it slightly, and she allows him to pull it off and toss it aside; left in only her panties, her long black hair still yet to be styled even though she’s got full beat on her face, she looks gorgeous as ever.
Her lips slurp off of Jongin’s cock and she licks along the shaft wetly, her eyes hooded and dark as she looks up at him. Fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, she slaps the head against her flattened tongue a few times, before making a popping sound by suctioning it into her cheek and releasing it quickly. Jongin huffs out a little moan; Zitao is like his own personal porn star with the way she gets so… lewd, without shame or even suggestion. She just does it.
“Come here,” he gruffs out. His sweatpants are around his ankles and he’s shirtless, nipples hard, body tense as Zitao unfurls gracefully from the floor.
Her kneecaps are red, but he knows she won’t say a word about it. She never does. When she stands her hair falls over her perky breasts, framing her nipples, and Jongin can’t help but to lean forward, at the perfect height to press his face into her cleavage. Both hands reach up to cup her tits, rolling her nipples and squishing his face with the flesh, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her sternum. She moans and tips her head back, her manicured fingers sliding into his hair, tugging and gripping gently. He spends a few moments there and then he sits back in his chair a bit, a hand reaching to cup her through her panties. She’s hot, the material of the cotton damp, and he smirks a bit.
A slap to his shoulder has him glancing up at her, taking in her huffy, flushed features.
“Don’t tease me. You’re going to make me late again.” her Korean is especially slurred when she’s turned on, and he finds it so adorable.
“Like you care,” he counters, cocky smirk on his lips as he pulls her panties down off of her shapely hips. She kicks the material away and climbs onto his lap, arms draped over his shoulders as her lips connect with his. He hums into the kiss, his fingers immediately sliding into her slick pussy; she doesn’t like foreplay too much, especially on days she considers a ‘rush’, but he still takes his time in fucking her open with his fingers, relishing the sensation of her rocking her hips down onto his fingers, trying to get them deeper, angled just right.
“Jongin,” she whines out, breathy and needy, and he wants to kiss all over her face but he’s learned that he doesn’t like the taste of her bronzer.
She grinds down, and his wrist bumps against the head of his cock and he groans a little, knowing that he can just plunge into her at any time. He can’t drag this out as much as he wants to, what with them being on a time crunch, even though he wants so badly to. He wants so badly to have Zitao begging him in a garbled mess of Mandarin and Korean, unable to keep her eyes open or her body upright because of how deftly he undoes her with his meticulous foreplay. He knows all of her buttons -- what turns her on, what turns her off, what irritates her or drives her wild. All of them are filed away neatly in his head and he mouths over the swell of her breasts, laving them in spit and moans.
“Jongin--” This time she sounds more wrecked than before, and it’s enough for now.
Withdrawing his fingers, Jongin slicks his cock with her juices, tilting his head back so he can take in her features. Her makeup is perfect, but he can see the flush underneath, creeping down her neck. She’s so pretty, her smokey eyeshadow framing dark, lusting eyes, false lashes fluttering with every breath. Jerking his cock a few times to take the edge off, Jongin aligns his cock as she aligns her hips and it’s with learned fluidity that they join together. The slide in is always exhilarating, no matter how many times they fuck; she’s so hot, so wet, so tight every damn time. Jongin has no idea how she does it.
Like this Zitao sinks down onto his cock, his big hands on the curves of her hips to anchor her down and keeping her from moving right away. She whines, kittenish and needy, her fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tight and tugging as she drops her head back. Her hair cascades and her pulse hammers against her throat and he wants to bite it, mark it, but he doesn’t want to taste her foundation, ever so carefully blended down all the way to her collarbones. She covers up what few freckles she has and he has long since given up the argument of leaving them be. Staring at her like this, as she relishes in the pause as greedily as he does, he reminds himself that he’s the luckiest mother fucker on campus.
Huang Zitao is all his.
Even though he’s got a tight grip on her hips she rocks her lower half, grinding into him, swiveling. He hisses in a breath softly in reply, and now she’s smirking, grinding her hips again.
“Fuck me,” she moans lowly, breathily, her nails scratching pleasantly over Jongin’s scalp. “Fuck me, please…”
A glance over his shoulder tells him that she’s going to be late again. He might as well make her forget about her impending tardiness. Adjusting his grip on her hips, palms sliding around to under her pert ass, he uses the leverage to start helping her bounce on his lap. He can feel his dick sliding out, cool air washing over it before it’s engulfed in blazing heat once again. They start up a rhythm, their bodies falling into sync like they always do, like they were meant to be, and he licks his lips, throat swallowing dry as he watches her. Her tits bounce with every movement, he can feel her ass bouncing in his grip, too, but she never jiggles -- she has just the right amount of density to her body, thanks to rigorous yoga workouts (that Jongin much rather prefers watching versus joining). She has curves but she’s firm, solid, and she could wear a trash bag and Jongin would still think she’s the sexiest girl alive.
Zitao’s bouncing grows a little erratic and Jongin’s arms wrap around her slender waist, willing all of his strength to his legs as he stands and takes her with him. She lets out a happy, surprised noise when he lays her over the kitchen table on her back, hands on her ankles to spread her wide as he slams into her. The legs of the table shirk on the tile floor, and he follows it with every thrust all the way until the edge of the table meets the counter and prevents it from going anywhere. With the table secured in place, Jongin starts ramming into Zitao with renewed strength and vim, glancing down to watch his cock disappear between her slick folds. His pelvis is glistening with her slick, his balls are slapping against her ass and she’s keening, arching up off of the table, her arms on either side of her gripping the edges of the table. She’s crucified by pleasure, held steady by Jongin, and her brows knit and her eyes squeeze shut as Jongin thrusts deeper and deeper. Pleasure licks at his toes and burns up his calves and yes, he’d much rather have Zitao for breakfast anyway. She spreads easier than butter, for him.
“Fuck, fuck--” She’s vocal as ever, whines and keens and curse words and occasional dirty phrases flinging from her mouth. She moves a hand to start rubbing her clit, and Jongin feels her pussy clenching around his dick at the added pleasure. “Oh God, fuck yes, ngh--”
There’s a brief stint of Zitao sitting up, wrapping her arms around Jongin’s shoulders so she can kiss him messily. He’s taken by surprise, but Zitao is good at that, catching him off guard. His thrusts slow and she scoots off the edge of the table, pushing him away a bit so she can slide off the surface. Turning around, she bends over the furniture, spreading her legs and shaking her ass a bit, looking over her shoulder coyly at Jongin.
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
Gripping her hips, he slams into her from behind, and her knees buckle immediately. One hand moves from her hip to the small of her back, pinning her to the table so she doesn’t fall or go anywhere unwanted, as his eyes watch his cock get sucked in by her folds. Swallowing thickly, his hand slides from the small of her back, thumb traveling down her crack until it presses dry against her hole. The pressure makes her gasp and sigh out a few expletives, and Jongin smirks to himself. She always gets riled up like this. If only he had time to fill up all her holes…
His thumb wedges into her asshole and he applies a bit of downward pressure, slamming harder, deeper into her pussy. She cries out, her body starting to writhe and spasm and he knows it won’t be long until she’s coming undone. And honestly, it’s for the better, because he knows he’s not going to last either. This boner is remnants of morning wood that he’s had to deal with since before his shower and he’s quite ready for release. Zitao starts fucking back against him, and he lifts his free hand to slap her ass once, twice -- and then she’s coming, her whole body convulsing with a long, drawn out moan leaving her stained lips. Squirt spills out around his cock and down her thighs, wet and sticky, and he pulls out of her so he can come on the small of her back, jerking himself to completion with a satisfied groan of her name.
Clean up is paper towels and an extra cup of coffee, and when Zitao catches sight of the clock she almost has a heart attack.
“Damn it Jongin!” she huffs, smacking his bicep and running off to the bedroom. She comes back out wearing sweats and one of Jongin’s hoodies, tossing her hair up into a messy bun. It’s amazing how she can dress like that despite having spent the better part of an hour doing her makeup. Jongin admires her for it. “You’re lucky you’re so fucking hot, fuck--” she grumbles while she shoves her books into her bag.
Grinning, Jongin lazily reclines in the kitchen chair, taking a sip of his coffee, sweatpants a bit crooked on his frame. Zitao stomps towards him and he looks up at her expectantly -- she puffs her cheeks, then leans down and gives him a kiss on the lips.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” she says. Before she leaves she reaches down and twists one of his nipples, before gleefully running out of the dorm and slamming the door behind her.
Rubbing his nipple, Jongin chuckles to himself and ruffles his hair idly.
He could fuck this girl for the rest of his life.
Love is just an added bonus.
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Pairing: Kai/girl!Zitao
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Unprotected sex, genderbent member
Summary: Zitao hates being late for class, but she doesn’t necessarily mind the reason why.
Notes: follow my twitter/tumblr @vipjuly to get updates on the fly! i’m on tumblr way more than twitter, so if you ever want to contact me / see what’s going on in my fic world, follow me and interact with me there! all posts are cross-linked to my twitter bc i can’t be bothered to log in lmao.
i could fuck you all the time;
There’s something absolutely, definitively exquisite about having Zitao on her knees, looking up at Jongin through false lashes with her smokey eyes. It’s art, the way she leans into the touch of his fingers on her slim jaw, and even though there’s a smudge of foundation on his fingers when he pulls them away, he could care less. Her lips, stained cherry red from a peel-off lip tint, wrap so perfectly around the head of his cock, her tongue dipping into the slit and gathering the precum. It’s barely seven in the morning, and they’re supposed to be getting ready for class, but he’d rather have Zitao for breakfast… and apparently: vice versa. She never complains about the hard tile against her soft knees, she never complains when she gets to class three minutes late, and she never complains about having to touch up her makeup whenever they finish a session. Zitao is perfect. Jongin loves her.
She’d switched to lip tints when her lipsticks left a residue and a weird taste on Jongin’s skin. He’s appreciative of that. His hands slide over her shoulders, over his shirt which was haphazardly thrown over her body last night while she prepared for bed. He grips the wrinkled material, tugs on it slightly, and she allows him to pull it off and toss it aside; left in only her panties, her long black hair still yet to be styled even though she’s got full beat on her face, she looks gorgeous as ever.
Her lips slurp off of Jongin’s cock and she licks along the shaft wetly, her eyes hooded and dark as she looks up at him. Fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, she slaps the head against her flattened tongue a few times, before making a popping sound by suctioning it into her cheek and releasing it quickly. Jongin huffs out a little moan; Zitao is like his own personal porn star with the way she gets so… lewd, without shame or even suggestion. She just does it.
“Come here,” he gruffs out. His sweatpants are around his ankles and he’s shirtless, nipples hard, body tense as Zitao unfurls gracefully from the floor.
Her kneecaps are red, but he knows she won’t say a word about it. She never does. When she stands her hair falls over her perky breasts, framing her nipples, and Jongin can’t help but to lean forward, at the perfect height to press his face into her cleavage. Both hands reach up to cup her tits, rolling her nipples and squishing his face with the flesh, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her sternum. She moans and tips her head back, her manicured fingers sliding into his hair, tugging and gripping gently. He spends a few moments there and then he sits back in his chair a bit, a hand reaching to cup her through her panties. She’s hot, the material of the cotton damp, and he smirks a bit.
A slap to his shoulder has him glancing up at her, taking in her huffy, flushed features.
“Don’t tease me. You’re going to make me late again.” her Korean is especially slurred when she’s turned on, and he finds it so adorable.
“Like you care,” he counters, cocky smirk on his lips as he pulls her panties down off of her shapely hips. She kicks the material away and climbs onto his lap, arms draped over his shoulders as her lips connect with his. He hums into the kiss, his fingers immediately sliding into her slick pussy; she doesn’t like foreplay too much, especially on days she considers a ‘rush’, but he still takes his time in fucking her open with his fingers, relishing the sensation of her rocking her hips down onto his fingers, trying to get them deeper, angled just right.
“Jongin,” she whines out, breathy and needy, and he wants to kiss all over her face but he’s learned that he doesn’t like the taste of her bronzer.
She grinds down, and his wrist bumps against the head of his cock and he groans a little, knowing that he can just plunge into her at any time. He can’t drag this out as much as he wants to, what with them being on a time crunch, even though he wants so badly to. He wants so badly to have Zitao begging him in a garbled mess of Mandarin and Korean, unable to keep her eyes open or her body upright because of how deftly he undoes her with his meticulous foreplay. He knows all of her buttons -- what turns her on, what turns her off, what irritates her or drives her wild. All of them are filed away neatly in his head and he mouths over the swell of her breasts, laving them in spit and moans.
“Jongin--” This time she sounds more wrecked than before, and it’s enough for now.
Withdrawing his fingers, Jongin slicks his cock with her juices, tilting his head back so he can take in her features. Her makeup is perfect, but he can see the flush underneath, creeping down her neck. She’s so pretty, her smokey eyeshadow framing dark, lusting eyes, false lashes fluttering with every breath. Jerking his cock a few times to take the edge off, Jongin aligns his cock as she aligns her hips and it’s with learned fluidity that they join together. The slide in is always exhilarating, no matter how many times they fuck; she’s so hot, so wet, so tight every damn time. Jongin has no idea how she does it.
Like this Zitao sinks down onto his cock, his big hands on the curves of her hips to anchor her down and keeping her from moving right away. She whines, kittenish and needy, her fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tight and tugging as she drops her head back. Her hair cascades and her pulse hammers against her throat and he wants to bite it, mark it, but he doesn’t want to taste her foundation, ever so carefully blended down all the way to her collarbones. She covers up what few freckles she has and he has long since given up the argument of leaving them be. Staring at her like this, as she relishes in the pause as greedily as he does, he reminds himself that he’s the luckiest mother fucker on campus.
Huang Zitao is all his.
Even though he’s got a tight grip on her hips she rocks her lower half, grinding into him, swiveling. He hisses in a breath softly in reply, and now she’s smirking, grinding her hips again.
“Fuck me,” she moans lowly, breathily, her nails scratching pleasantly over Jongin’s scalp. “Fuck me, please…”
A glance over his shoulder tells him that she’s going to be late again. He might as well make her forget about her impending tardiness. Adjusting his grip on her hips, palms sliding around to under her pert ass, he uses the leverage to start helping her bounce on his lap. He can feel his dick sliding out, cool air washing over it before it’s engulfed in blazing heat once again. They start up a rhythm, their bodies falling into sync like they always do, like they were meant to be, and he licks his lips, throat swallowing dry as he watches her. Her tits bounce with every movement, he can feel her ass bouncing in his grip, too, but she never jiggles -- she has just the right amount of density to her body, thanks to rigorous yoga workouts (that Jongin much rather prefers watching versus joining). She has curves but she’s firm, solid, and she could wear a trash bag and Jongin would still think she’s the sexiest girl alive.
Zitao’s bouncing grows a little erratic and Jongin’s arms wrap around her slender waist, willing all of his strength to his legs as he stands and takes her with him. She lets out a happy, surprised noise when he lays her over the kitchen table on her back, hands on her ankles to spread her wide as he slams into her. The legs of the table shirk on the tile floor, and he follows it with every thrust all the way until the edge of the table meets the counter and prevents it from going anywhere. With the table secured in place, Jongin starts ramming into Zitao with renewed strength and vim, glancing down to watch his cock disappear between her slick folds. His pelvis is glistening with her slick, his balls are slapping against her ass and she’s keening, arching up off of the table, her arms on either side of her gripping the edges of the table. She’s crucified by pleasure, held steady by Jongin, and her brows knit and her eyes squeeze shut as Jongin thrusts deeper and deeper. Pleasure licks at his toes and burns up his calves and yes, he’d much rather have Zitao for breakfast anyway. She spreads easier than butter, for him.
“Fuck, fuck--” She’s vocal as ever, whines and keens and curse words and occasional dirty phrases flinging from her mouth. She moves a hand to start rubbing her clit, and Jongin feels her pussy clenching around his dick at the added pleasure. “Oh God, fuck yes, ngh--”
There’s a brief stint of Zitao sitting up, wrapping her arms around Jongin’s shoulders so she can kiss him messily. He’s taken by surprise, but Zitao is good at that, catching him off guard. His thrusts slow and she scoots off the edge of the table, pushing him away a bit so she can slide off the surface. Turning around, she bends over the furniture, spreading her legs and shaking her ass a bit, looking over her shoulder coyly at Jongin.
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
Gripping her hips, he slams into her from behind, and her knees buckle immediately. One hand moves from her hip to the small of her back, pinning her to the table so she doesn’t fall or go anywhere unwanted, as his eyes watch his cock get sucked in by her folds. Swallowing thickly, his hand slides from the small of her back, thumb traveling down her crack until it presses dry against her hole. The pressure makes her gasp and sigh out a few expletives, and Jongin smirks to himself. She always gets riled up like this. If only he had time to fill up all her holes…
His thumb wedges into her asshole and he applies a bit of downward pressure, slamming harder, deeper into her pussy. She cries out, her body starting to writhe and spasm and he knows it won’t be long until she’s coming undone. And honestly, it’s for the better, because he knows he’s not going to last either. This boner is remnants of morning wood that he’s had to deal with since before his shower and he’s quite ready for release. Zitao starts fucking back against him, and he lifts his free hand to slap her ass once, twice -- and then she’s coming, her whole body convulsing with a long, drawn out moan leaving her stained lips. Squirt spills out around his cock and down her thighs, wet and sticky, and he pulls out of her so he can come on the small of her back, jerking himself to completion with a satisfied groan of her name.
Clean up is paper towels and an extra cup of coffee, and when Zitao catches sight of the clock she almost has a heart attack.
“Damn it Jongin!” she huffs, smacking his bicep and running off to the bedroom. She comes back out wearing sweats and one of Jongin’s hoodies, tossing her hair up into a messy bun. It’s amazing how she can dress like that despite having spent the better part of an hour doing her makeup. Jongin admires her for it. “You’re lucky you’re so fucking hot, fuck--” she grumbles while she shoves her books into her bag.
Grinning, Jongin lazily reclines in the kitchen chair, taking a sip of his coffee, sweatpants a bit crooked on his frame. Zitao stomps towards him and he looks up at her expectantly -- she puffs her cheeks, then leans down and gives him a kiss on the lips.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” she says. Before she leaves she reaches down and twists one of his nipples, before gleefully running out of the dorm and slamming the door behind her.
Rubbing his nipple, Jongin chuckles to himself and ruffles his hair idly.
He could fuck this girl for the rest of his life.
Love is just an added bonus.
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