★

BLINDED. BY. THE. THIRST. OF. SIN.

[1117-yungi]

a single light appears, a silver light of hope . . .

☆ WELCOME !

. . . kellie. she/her. xx. intp. ateez lovebot. ravenclaw. multifandom. requests are open... main masterlist. biology major. saw ateez x3.

☆ BASIC INFO !

. . . basic dni critera. no fandom wars. don't criticize pls. most of my content is nsfw: please keep in mind before continuing. no set posting schedule.

. . . my account is new and under construction, so please bare with the aesthetics and links for now !

[otakuh0tgurl]

YALL WTFFF😩

[shadowkoo]

Leave A Window Unlocked - Freaktober Day 1

31 DAYS OF DARKNESS ❦ FREAKTOBER 2025

ⓘ 𝖉𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘: in which you invite a masked stranger to break into your home and wake you in a most devious way...

ghostface/masked!mingi (atz) x f.reader

2.1k words | 18+ | smut, pwp, strangers to fuck buddies (i would say lovers ? but they’re not in love lol), mild horror

ⓘ 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖘: This fic contains horror-related elements or kinks that may trigger some readers. Please review the warnings below and read at your own risk! This work is fictional and written for adults who enjoy exploring horror-inspired kinks in a safe and imaginative space. It does not reflect the IRL behavior of any kpop idol, and I do not condone non-consensual advances, harmful behavior, or sexual violence in real life. This work is created for entertainment only. Always practice safe, sane, and consensual sex.

ⓘ 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: unprotected & explicit sex, rough sex, getting fucked harddddd, degradation, dirty talk, size kink (and mingi is obvi slinging a beast of a cock duh), mask kink, clit flicking, clit pinching, begging, choking, consensual dubious consent, glamorized fetishes/kinks, unsafe kink practices, stranger danger, light weapon play, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, power dynamics

ⓘ 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: it’s finally here!!!!! happy freaktober everyone, i hope the next 31 days are everything you dream them to be >:)

𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖘…

“Oh my…” you say to yourself as you come across a striking profile on KinkLink, the newest hookup app that you finally gave in and downloaded a few days ago. His profile cover is a selfie taken from a lower angle that lets you see every groove and ripple across his toned stomach and chest. But, despite being ridiculously hot, it’s the ghostface mask covering his face in every photo you scroll through that steals your attention, causing a wave of wetness to settle in your core.

You’ve always had what some would call a sick fantasy when it comes to masked men…

It’s often that you touch yourself to the idea of a masked stranger fucking you while nearly strangling you to death. And now the universe seems to have given you this gift.

“Fuck meeee,” you whine, as you get to the last photo. It’s one where he’s naked, all but for the mask. Your eyes trail down the deep ‘V’ leading down to where, what you could only imagine, would be where his massive cock is. However his hands hide his goods, only barely showing some of the dark hair down there, which purposely teases you just enough to leave you craving more.

You swipe to like, and match instantly. With no shame, you open the chat with ‘ScreamAndCream99' and start the conversation.

⚪️ Nice screen name, very punny. Any plans tonight?

The ‘read’ receipt shows soon after, and you watch the little dots move as he types out his reply.

🟢 You, apparently. DTF, I assume?

⚪️ Only if you wear the mask

🟢 Of course, sweetheart. That’s a very important rule of mine.

⚪️ I see lol any others I should be aware of?

🟢 Several, curious?

⚪️ Maybe just a little…

🟢 Rule 1, give me your address. Rule 2, leave a window unlocked but don’t tell me which one. Rule 3, go to sleep naked. Rule 4, use the safeword ‘phantom’ if you get spooked, and perhaps I’ll consider stopping…

Your heart races, but before you have time to reply, he sends another set of messages.

🟢 No promises though

🟢 Still DTF after knowing that?

⚪️ Good thing I don’t spook easily

You send your address next, your heart nearly beating out of your chest when your phone vibrates with his reply.

🟢 Good girl

You’re half asleep when you think you hear something–someone–but after sitting up and listening intently, you chalk it up to your imagination and excitement, before lying down and drifting back to sleep.

Mingi watches from the dark corner of your room as your breathing settles again. He’s been here for a little over an hour, watching through the holes in his mask as you slept peacefully. Blissfully unaware of any danger. An easy target for his taking.

You looked right past him when you sat up moments ago. It took nearly all of his self-restraint to stay still as your blankets fell away from your upper half, exposing your breasts and the soft mound of your nipples underneath the small amount of moonlight bleeding in through your window. When you thought you heard something in the distance, they hardened into little round, protruding peaks, and his length hardened simultaneously.

Maybe target isn’t the right word.

You want this. You initiated this.

Willing participant might be the better choice of words…

You stir in your sleep once again, this time rolling from your side onto your back.

It’s time. Mingi grips the knife handle tightly before taking a step closer to your bed.

Slowly, he pulls the covers away from your body, and is pleased to see that your legs are already spread for him. With his free hand, he drags two fingers through your folds. You’re already weeping for him, so warm…so inviting…as his fingers sink into your core.

He can’t help but groan. “Mmm, I can’t fucking wait to have my fun with you.”

Your eyes flash open, hearing his deep voice and becoming aware of the sensation between your legs. You gasp, coming face to face with the masked, shirtless man, and attempt to sit up.

Mingi’s quick though and lifts his other hand, pressing the knife up against your neck. The sharp blade stings from the pressure, but he’s practiced enough to avoid cutting…anymore. It’s just enough to partially strain the breathing pattern to scare his usual victims.

You’re different, though. He doesn’t scare you, and somehow that turns him on even more.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice dripping with danger. “I’ve got big plans for you tonight. I hope you know what you signed up for.” His fingers curl into you faster now, and your eyelids flutter closed as the heat grows in your center.

“Hi, Mr. Ghostface. Are you gonna give it to me good tonight?” You ask, voice raspy from the lack of air, with a devilishly innocent look on your face. Your hands slide up his bare biceps, nails digging into his flesh as you continue speaking, “I want to be fucked. I want to be ruined. I want to be used. I’ve been so well behaved, and no one can seem to give me what I want, what I deserve.”

Jesus Christ. Whose fucking bedroom did he walk into, and how can he sign up to stay here?

“Be careful what you ask for, baby. My self-control is already hanging on by a very thin thread,” he breathes, his cock straining against the front of his pants.

“Should I find some scissors, then?” you quip with a teasing smile that spreads across your lips as you open your legs wider. One of your own hands trails down between them, joining his.

He watches, completely stunned, as you collect some of your slick before smearing it across your clit, rubbing in small circles as you work yourself up. The divine sound of your little pants echoes in the room.

“Well, are you going to take over, or would you rather watch me get myself off?”

His eyes burn into yours once he’s come out of your spell. Yeah right.

“Get that fucking hand away from your pretty little cunt right now,” Mingi demands.

You obey, bringing your fingers to your mouth to lick them clean, eyes locked on his as you suck off your natural dew.

The final piece of the thread snaps when you release them with a satisfying ‘pop,’ and his entire demeanor changes.

Tossing the knife aside–as it won’t be needed–he works to remove his pants, then towers over your frame. Your mouth involuntarily drops seeing the size of him. He's enormous; his thick tip is probably similar in size to your closed fist.

Another wave of wetness washes through your folds, barely in enough time before he lines himself up. Both of your moans intermingle when he runs his cockhead up and down your slit.

He does it again, and again, and again. Teasing you. Taunting you. Making you lose your fucking mind.

Your body shudders as his leaking tip 'accidentally' rubs up against your clit.

“Rule five,” he grunts, before lowering his length and slamming into you, finally. All the air in your lungs escapes as he splits you open, taking up all the available space inside of you, forcing you to stretch for him. “This cunt is all mine for tonight. You’re not allowed to touch it.”

“Feels…so…good,” you mewl, sucking in a breath as the last few inches push into you.

Without any warning, your masked stranger jerks his hips back, leaving you feeling empty before he thrusts back in. His pace picks up as he pounds into you over and over, driving you further up the bed each time from his insane power.

Your panting quickens, feeling the coil inside you getting dangerously close to unraveling. You clench around him, and panic hits you.

“No,” you whine. “I can’t come yet.” Your inner walls clench again helplessly, despite your words.

“Yes, you can, baby. Come all over me as I tear this pussy apart. Let me feel you lose control.” His words don’t help your situation.

“I don’t want this to be over already!”

He lowers his face to your ear, his whisper slightly muffled because of the mask. “I’m nowhere near finished with you. In fact, later you’ll be begging for me to stop.”

“P-Promise?” you mewl, on the edge, fighting so hard to keep your first orgasm at bay.

He leans back, his pace slowing intentionally as his hand wipes a stray tear from your eye. “I promise, now come for me.”

As he speaks, pleasure courses through your blood.

Mingi is mesmerized by the way your body convulses below him. He grits his teeth, keeping his own release in check as he fucks you through yours.

“Oh my g-god,” you cry out as he returns to his original unforgiving pace, refusing to give you a break.

“What did I say? We’re just getting started.” Lifting a leg onto his shoulder, he takes you from a deeper angle. One that has his tip hitting your cervix. Your eyes widen as the next orgasm already begins building.

“I think you deserve a necklace for being so obedient. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You nod, unable to form words, and his hands wrap around your neck. Both thumbs apply just enough pressure to the right spot so you see stars from the lack of oxygen.

“That’s it,” he groans, “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?"

You don't even have to answer; your face shows it. The way you bite your lip in response urges him to go harder.

"I knew you were just a sick slut, needy for someone’s cock to stretch you out. No one sane would allow a stranger to break into their home and fuck them like this.”

His grip around your neck tightens.

“But you love it like this. You’re just as nasty as I am. And you take me so fucking well. Look at us.”

His grip around your neck loosens some, allowing you to glance down to where your bodies meet. You moan at the sight of his beast of a cock disappearing inside of you with ease. A bulge appears in your lower belly each time he thrusts.

“See me inside of you, filling you up?”

Unable to look away, your walls flutter around his length. Heat pools once again, this time squirting out of you uncontrollably. You toss your head back and grip the sheets between your fingers, knowing you’re on the verge of coming.

Mingi chuckles as you struggle to find a grasp on reality, but this is a fight you won’t win.

“You’re going to come again, even if you don’t want to,” Mingi sneers, releasing one of his hands from your neck, taking it to your clit. His thumb draws a few circles before pulling back to curl it and his middle finger together. He flicks your swollen bundle of nerves, and the sensation sends shockwaves through you. The pain soon turns into pleasure as he squeezes it between his fingers, and you’re done.

You scream out, your next orgasm crashing over you whether you want it to or not. This one coats his cock in a thick layer of your slick, the excess spilling out onto your sheets, leaving a damp spot.

That visual, along with the obscene sounds of skin smacking skin, has him teetering on the edge.

“I want you to come in me. Please come in me, please fill me up,” you beg as more tears fall. "I need it so bad. Please give it to me!"

“Fuck!” Mingi grunts, his lower abs tensing as his seed shoots into you. He fucks it further inside, wanting to claim every inch of you with his cum. His cockhead pulsates between your walls, which shudder around him one final time before you pass out from the intensity of it all.

Huh, that’s a first, he thinks.

You’re still breathing, so he’s less concerned. He’d be disappointed if he fucked you to death. His eyes scan over your face as his cock twitches inside you again, shooting out the last sting of his release.

He pulls himself out of you and takes off his mask, rubbing a hand over his sweaty face.

You gradually blink back into consciousness, and he smiles, revealing a gorgeous set of teeth against a beautiful mouth and an even more stunning face. You blink a few more times as you wake up, but your room is now empty.

If it wasn’t for the mess left between your legs, you might have wondered if this was all just a really good dream…

𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖌𝖊 - Sign up for my freaktober taglist to get notified when more fics are posted! You can choose specific ones, or all of them!

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©shadowkoo 2025. All rights reserved.

[1117-yungi]

BEEN LIKE THIS. mingi x fem!reader [2.1k]

genre. rapper!mingi, angst, slowburn, heart break, second chance, suggestive, smut kinda? little fluff but happy ending, mingi kinda sucks at the beginning but they cute

warnings. swearing, suggestive themes, smut, alcohol usage, past trauma, emotional themes, overall its sad so be prepared

note. i haven't posted in so long but here take this when i was upsety-spaghetti. stream lemon drop!!!!!!

it starts with silence.

not the comforting kind, not the quiet that settles between two people who know each other so deeply they don't always need words. no, this silence grows between you like a shadow you never noticed until you were already standing in the dark. and it's heavy. suffocating. the kind of silence that fills the room even when music plays or laughter spills from your phone screen. it stretches over the space between your bodies on the couch, the pause after you say his name, the way his lips part like he might respond — then don't.

mingi used to look at you like you were gravity itself. like every piece of him pulled toward you no matter how far he wandered. he used to touch you with this quiet urgency, like if he didn't hold you close, he might lose you forever. you can still feel the echo of it in your skin, the fingerprints of a boy who once made you feel like the sun was rising inside your chest.

but now?

now he barely meets your gaze. and when he does, it's fleeting, like he's afraid of what he might see.

you try to brush it off at first. blame it on stress. his schedule. yours. a bad week. a bad month. but the excuses begin to unravel one by one, like loose threads in a sweater you keep trying to wear even though it's falling apart. every moment feels too quiet, too cautious, too careful. And love, real love, was never meant to feel careful.

you sit at the kitchen table one night, legs curled up beneath you, a half-empty glass of wine sweating against your palm. the soft hum of the fridge is the only sound in the apartment. outside, the city flickers: neon signs, passing headlights, the muffled chaos of a world still moving forward.

he's late. again.

you don't even bother to text him this time. you just stare down at the untouched plate across from you, cold now, steam long vanished. the food tastes like cardboard when you finally force yourself to eat it. you imagine him walking in, arms outstretched, some excuse on his lips: "sorry, practice ran late, I lost track of time, let me make it up to you." but when the door finally clicks open, he doesn't say anything at all.

he just tosses his keys in the bowl, peels off his jacket, and moves past you like a ghost. like you are not even there.

you hate how your body still reacts to him. how your eyes follow him, drinking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his hair falls messily across his forehead, the clench in his jaw. you remember how that jaw used to rest against your thigh when he looked up at you and called you beautiful like it was the only truth that mattered.

he doesn't even kiss you goodnight anymore.

later, when you finally crawl into bed beside him, he's already facing the wall. one arm draped over a pillow like it’s easier to hold than you.

and your heart breaks all over again.

you try to talk to him the next day. you wait until the morning sun spills through the curtains, golden and forgiving. he's sitting at the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of the storm building behind your ribs.

"mingi," you say softly.

he glances back, slow and unreadable. "yeah?"

your throat tightens. you sit up straighter, gripping the sheets like they'll keep you grounded. "can we talk?"

that's when his expression shifts. just slightly. not annoyance. not quite. but something close to it. wariness. that look he gets when he's preparing to be uncomfortable. defensive. distant.

"about what?"

"us," you say. it feels so small on your tongue. "you've been… distant. different. i don't know if i did something wrong or if something's going on, but—"

"you didn't do anything wrong," he says quickly. too quickly. like he's used the line before.

you blink. "then why does it feel like you're not really here anymore?"

he rubs a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. "don't do this right now."

you feel your chest collapse inward. the anger rushes over you like a tidal wave. it felt justified; you had put up with this for too long and it needed to stop. "do what? ask for clarity? asl my boyfriend if he still gives a shit about me?"

his jaw ticks as he says your name, "it's not like that."

"then what is it like?" your voice cracks, vulnerable and sharp all at once. "because i'm lying awake next to someone who doesn't touch me, doesn't talk to me, doesn't even see me anymore. i feel like i'm screaming and you've got your headphones in.”

there's a beat of silence.

then, flatly: "it's been like this."

you flinch like he slapped you.

you don't even know what you expected. an apology? a confession? for him to say he's been struggling too, that he still wants to fix it, that there's something left to save?

but this?

you voice is barely a whisper now. "so… this whole time, you've just known?"

he nods once. looks down at his hands like he doesn't want to see what this is doing to you. "yeah."

you let the words settle. they rot in the pit of your stomach. you get up slowly, feet dragging toward the hallway. you don't even remember what you came in the room to do. all you know is that the air feels wrong and your chest is tight and your heart is beating in a way that feels more like mourning than panic.

and still — he doesn't come after you.

he doesn't call your name.

he just sits there, phone back in hand, like nothing shattered.

you lie in bed that night staring at the ceiling, blinking through the blur in your eyes. you try to remember the last time he said “i love you” without it sounding like punctuation. the last time he kissed you because he wanted to, not because it was expected.

it all blurs together now.

the next morning, his side of the bed is cold again. his toothbrush is still there. his hoodie still slung over the chair. his scent lingers in the sheets.

but he's gone.

and maybe the worst part is that you don't even ask where he went.

because deep down, you already know.

it's been like this.

the city hasn't changed much — but you have.

you're walking down a street lined with early summer haze and the scent of roasted coffee beans wafting from the café behind you. the sun paints your skin in gold, and your phone buzzes in your back pocket with a new playlist your friend just sent. you smile to yourself, slow and real, like your heart isn't bruised anymore. like the world doesn't feel so heavy.

because, for once, it doesn't.

it took time, more than you thought it would, anyway. it had been two years since then. there were nights you still heard his voice in dreams, still reached across the bed before remembering there was no one there. but there were also mornings where you woke up and didn't think about him at all. mornings filled with sunlight and eggs on toast and songs that made your shoulders sway in the kitchen. you stopped looking for his hoodie in your closet. you learned how to sleep on both sides of the bed.

you didn’t move on to another person right away. you moved on to yourself. to rediscovering what it felt like to want things just for you. you read more. traveled. changed your hair. pick up a disposable film camera and started capturing moments again: quiet ones, messy ones, real ones.

you are whole again.

which is why you don't recognize the shape of his voice at first.

you're standing in a bookstore, fingers grazing over a new poetry collection, when someone says your name.

you freeze.

it's soft. hesitant. the way someone might say the name of a ghost. and maybe you were a ghost now. a passing thought.

you turn around slowly and there he is.

mingi.

time has touched him, but gently. his hair's darker now, a little longer around his ears. his jaw is sharper, but his eyes are the same. still warm. still dangerous. but still him, nonetheless.

and for a moment, your chest tightens. not from longing, but from memory.

"hey," he says, voice low. there's a nervous edge to it you haven't heard before, something you weren't used to.

you stare at him, heart calm but alert, like your body is still learning how to not react to him. "hi."

there's a beat of silence. then he exhales a breathy laugh, almost disbelieving. "i didn't think i'd ever run into you again." your eye twitched slightly at his comment. in response, you simply shrug, glancing at the book still in your hand. "i didn't think you'd notice if you did."

that stings. you can tell by the way he flinches, just like you did that night. his eyes dropped for a second. "i deserved that."

you nod once. you don't owe him anything, but honesty always felt better than bitterness.

"are you doing okay?" he asks quietly, searching your face like he's afraid to look too long.

you think of your apartment bathed in evening light, the paint on your bedroom walls you chose yourself. the voice notes your best friend leaves you at midnight. the freedom. the peace. the growth. and when you answer him, you didn't have to lie anymore. only honesty found you,

"i am," you say. "really okay."

he looks relieved and something else. regret, maybe? or longing. maybe both. "you look… happy."

"i am." you smile softly. "and you? are you still making music?" you knew the answer, but you didn't want to seem like you were still clinging onto something that just wasn't yours anymore.

"yeah. still with the guys. still running on no sleep and too much takeout." he smiles, but it's faint, tired around the edges.

you nod, remembering those nights. the way he used to collapse on your couch, ramen in one hand, lyrics scrawled on the back of receipts in the other.

"my friends listened to the album," you say. "a lot of heartbreak."

he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "yeah. well. that part wasn't fake."

you glance down, biting the inside of your cheek. then you meet his eyes again, steady. "you really hurt me."

he swallows hard. he didn't expect you to respond that way, but he deserved it. "i know. i didn't show up for you when it mattered. and i don't expect you to forgive me. but i never stopped thinking about you."

you pause.

the old you might’ve crumbled at those words. might've mistaken them for a lifeline. but now? now, they're just words. and you're not drowning anymore. at least, that's what you're trying to tell yourself anyway.

you bit your lower lip, looking down at the hardwood floor of the bookstore. "i hope you're better to the people who love you now," you say gently. "because you weren't ready for the kind of love i gave you."

he looks down, visibly struck. "you're right. i wasn't."

a soft quiet falls between you, but it's not uncomfortable. it's just peaceful.

you hold up the poetry book. "i should get going."

"yeah," he says quickly. "of course."

you walk past him, your shoulder brushing his just barely. but you don't look back. not until you reach the front counter to check your book out. the attendant wasn't there yet — making you stop in your place. then you pause, glance over your shoulder.

he's still standing there, staring at the space where you stood.

"mingi," you call softly.

he lifts his eyes.

"thank you," you say.

"for what?" he asks.

"for teaching me how to love myself after someone else couldn't."

and with that, you turn around and smile at the attendant, handing her the book in your hand. you felt lighter. freer. whole.

the bell of the door jingles, signaling him leaving.

the party is a blur of bodies and red lights and someone's perfume that clings too tightly to the air. you hadn't planned to stay long; maybe have a drink, lean against a kitchen counter, pretend to be interested in conversations that flicker and die before they reach anything real. but now, you're locked in the kind of atmosphere that feels like a memory waiting to be ruined. sweat beads on the back of your neck. bass pulses through the floor like it's trying to crack the foundation. and the laughter? it's a little too loud, a little too hollow. like everyone's playing pretend.

you don't really know how you found yourself in a crowd like this. it wasn't something you enjoyed, but it was your friend's birthday.

you lean against the wall in the hallway just off the living room, dim light brushing against your cheekbone in a way that makes you look more tired than you feel. someone you don't know brushes past, muttering an apology that doesn't quite reach their eyes. you don't respond. you're too busy watching the way the room breathes: how the air changes, thickens, and grows teeth.

and then you feel it.

before you see him. before your eyes even scan the crowd. it's this slow, bitter pull in your chest. like a match lighting somewhere behind your ribs. like your body's trying to warn you before your brain can catch up.

you turn your head — and your heart stutters.

mingi.

he's standing across the room, half-shadowed under the string lights slung lazily from the ceiling, a half-empty glass dangling from his fingers. his hair is messy like he ran his hands through it one too many times trying to make sense of his own thoughts. he looks taller than you remember, or maybe it's just the way he's standing — shoulders pulled back like he's trying to convince himself he belongs here.

you don't breathe.

he hasn't seen you yet. or maybe he has and he's pretending. you wouldn't blame him. some ghosts wear skin, and you both have been haunted in silence for far too long.

but then his eyes lift. and he sees you.

there's a beat of absolute stillness. like the air dips below freezing in the center of the fire. like everyone else in the room blurs out of focus.

he doesn't look surprised.

he looks… wrecked.

and you hate the way it still makes your heart twist.

you try to look away, you really do, but there's something feral in the air now — some unspoken tether still wrapped around both your throats, tugging you closer whether you like it or not. he moves through the crowd slowly, not graceful but deliberate, parting people like smoke until he's in front of you, and suddenly the room feels too small.

his voice is lower than you remember, rough around the edges like he hasn't used it for something real in a while. "didn't think i'd see you again so soon."

that was a lie. you don't know why it didn't cross your mind sooner, but the friend you were both here celebrating was a mutual friend you both kept in contact with. of course he would be here.

you breathe through your nose, jaw tightening. "you keep showing up in places i used to feel safe."

that stings, you watch it hit him square in the chest, but he nods. doesn't flinch. doesn't retreat.

"i didn't come here for this," he says quietly, his eyes flicking down like he's ashamed to be in your orbit. "i didn't even know you'd be here." another lie.

there's a pause, thick and pulsing. you both know this is dangerous ground. the kind of moment that could swallow you whole if you let it.

"i've been thinking about the bookstore," he says, voice nearly drowned by the music thudding through the drywall. "about what you said. what i said."

you shake your head. "don't do this here, mingi."

"i'm not trying to make a scene."

"no, you're trying to make a confession."

he swallows, throat flexing. he looks down at the floor for a moment like he's trying to convince it to open and pull him under.

you wish it would.

or maybe you wish it wouldn't, because for all the hurt you wear like a second skin, part of you still aches to be close to him. just to feel something. anything real. the kind of thing this room full of half-made acquaintances will never understand.

"do you ever…" he starts, but can't quite finish. he scrubs a hand over his mouth and huffs out a quiet breath. "i see you and it's like.. i don't know how to be in my own body anymore."

your eyes sting.

he continues. "i don't sleep right. i don't eat right. not since the night i walked away and realized i took something i was never supposed to give up."

you close your eyes. the lights flicker behind your lids, pink and gold like the party's trying to imitate something romantic. it's not. it's pretending: just like the both of you used to do.

"i was drowning in you," you whisper, barely audible over the hum of the speakers. "and i asked you to swim with me, but you just let me go."

the look he gives you then — god, it's shattering.

"i didn't know how to love you the way you needed," he chokes out. "but i do now. i'm not saying it's perfect or easy or fixed, but i know what i lost. and i'd bleed to hold it again."

the words crash into you like thunder, but still, you don't reach for him.

you know how this goes.

still, you whisper, "come with me."

you walk to the back bedroom of the apartment, down the hallway dimmed by distance, past whispers and perfume and the ghosts of what this party pretends to be. the room is empty. the music is muffled now, just a low throb in the walls, like your heartbeat synced to memory.

you close the door and turn around slowly.

he's already watching you. like he's starving for something you used to feed him: peace, purpose, the feeling of being known.

neither of you speak. the air is full of it already: all that tension, all that grief and want and aching memory.

he steps closer. not to kiss you. not to grab your waist.

but to look at you. like really look.

and you break first.

"i hate how much i still feel you in everything i do," you whisper, voice raw and breaking. "i hated you for a long time. for leaving. for not chasing me. for making me believe i was too much."

"i never thought you were too much," he says, voice cracking. "i thought i was never enough."

and somehow, that’s worse.

you don't know who reaches first — but suddenly you're holding him like you're scared he'll vanish again, arms around each other like lifelines, like bruises that finally softened into scars. his breath shakes against your neck. your fingers dig into the back of his jacket like you need to memorize the feeling in case this is the last time.

and neither of you pull away.

not yet.

not when the world is still burning outside, and the only thing warm left is what still smolders between your ribs when he whispers, "i still love you."

his words hang in the air like smoke.

i still love you.

you don't answer — not right away. the silence isn't because you don't feel it. it's because you do. so much it hurts.

he doesn't pull away. you don't either. the world outside this door doesn't exist. not the pounding music, not the clink of bottles or laughter echoing down the hallway. all that matters is the rise and fall of his chest against yours, the warmth of his breath where it ghosts against the side of your neck, the way his fingers slowly curl into the fabric at your waist like he's anchoring himself there, like he's afraid he'll lose you again if he lets go.

when you finally lean back to look at him, his eyes are glassy, dark, rimmed with something desperate and undone. you've seen this look before. years ago, in different rooms, under different ceilings. but this one's different. he's not hiding behind it. he's handing it to you.

there's a moment, just a heartbeat, where you could speak. you could say something soft or poetic or devastating. but you don't.

instead, you cup his face with both hands, thumb grazing the edge of his jaw where the stubble has grown in slightly uneven. he tilts into your touch like it hurts to be held, but he craves the ache. and maybe you do too.

"i shouldn't," you murmur. not like a warning, more like a confession.

"i know," he breathes, voice frayed and trembling. "but i want you to."

his eyes flicker, lips part, breath catches. and it's that split second, that razor-thin line between restraint and surrender, where everything changes.

when your lips meet, it's not frantic. it's familiar. shown. deep. like pulling open old wounds just to feel what was once alive. his hands slide up your arms with reverence, like he's relearning the shape of what he once had and thought he'd never touch again. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until there's no air left between you.

the kiss deepens. unspoken apologies exchanged in how your mouths move together, like a language was never enough anyway. he walks you back, gently but with intent, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he breaks the kiss just long enough to search your eyes.

you don't need to say anything.

the look you give him, the way your fingers trace the edge of his collar, the way your chest rises and falls in time with his.. says it all.

yes. stay. touch. remember.

and as he leans in again, slower this time, hands finding your hips like a prayer, the lights outside flicker against the doorframe. the party roars on beyond the walls, oblivious. but here, in this quiet, dim-lit room, you both choose to disappear from the noise.

you don't stop what's already unraveling. you don't want to.

you don't stop him as his fingers dance across your aching body, removing the clothes of your body and then his own. his eyes roamed your bare body — capturing every inch and every curve. he knew your body like the back of his hand, even after all of this time. he had dreamed of feeling you like this again, yearned for it.

you don't stop him as his mouth attached itself to your nipple or when his rough, big hand groped onto the other, giving equal attention as you straddled him. you moaned into the dark room, your hands tangled in his hair as you gripped onto the locks.

you don't stop him when he flipped you both so you were on top of him. your tongues danced together as your wet pussy grinded down onto his aching cock, throbbing desperately against your clit.

and you certainly didn't stop him when he lined up with your hole and helped you sink down onto him. your nails dug into his shoulders as you both groaned in satisfaction. your walls were tight, not used to his cock like you were before.

moans filled and echoed the bedroom as the two of you connected together. "mingi," you moaned and he shushed you with his lips, kissing you like you'd disappear. his fingertips bruised into your waist as he helped you bounce up and down on his cock. "you take me so well, baby, always did." he'd whisper against your neck, planting marks along the flesh, reclaiming what was his once.

and as he filled you up with his load, you both held each other with longing and desire. you laid like that, with his cock still deep inside of you.

the silence is the first thing you notice.

it comes soft and heavy, like a blanket thrown over a flame. the kind of silence that doesn't press in with awkwardness, but with meaning — weighty and warm. the kind that settles over two people who just handed themselves to each other in the most unguarded way possible.

the room is still dim, lit only by the soft blue spill of moonlight filtering through the cracked blinds. the air is thick with heat and breath and the echo of skin against skin, hearts still thudding in tandem, not yet calmed.

your chest rises and falls slowly. everything is still warm — your skin, the air, the space between you. and him.

you couldn't see him as you laid on his chest, but you can feel him watching you. not with his eyes. with his body. his closeness. the tension still curled in his fingers like he doesn't know whether to reach for you again or give you space to breathe.

after a few brief moments, you both untangled and took a spot to lay beside of one another. you both were looking at the ceiling.

you turn your head.

he doesn't move.

but something shifts.

"i didn’t know it could still feel like this," you whisper, voice raw, quiet, broken open in the middle.

he exhales, slow and shaky. "like what?"

"like it mattered."

that makes him turn. just slightly. his arm slips from his face, and you see his eyes in the dark — soft, wide, stunned like he wasn't expecting you to say that. maybe he wasn't expecting any of this. but then again, neither were you.

he reaches for you: gentle, almost hesitant, and runs the back of his fingers along your arm, just a brush, a breath of a touch. it sends shivers up your spine because it's not lust now. it's reverence. it's you're still here and i still want to know you, even after all this time.

"you always mattered," he says, and his voice cracks halfway through. "even when i was too scared to admit it."

you swallow the ache rising in your throat, blinking up at the ceiling like it can hold back the flood. "you left."

"i know."

"i hated you."

"i know that too." his hand slips into yours beneath the sheets, fingers interlocking without force. "i hated me more."

you squeeze his hand, just once. "i waited, you know. i waited so long for you to come back."

"i came back too late," he murmurs.

"but you came back."

that silence again. but this time it feels like air before rain. cleansing. healing.

he shifts closer. his chest brushes your shoulder. his forehead rests against your temple like a prayer. there's nothing sexual in it. not anymore. just closeness. just wanting. just being.. after so long of not knowing how to.

"i've touched other people," you admit, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "i've tried. i've wanted to forget you."

he doesn’t flinch. doesn't tense.

"i know," he whispers. "so have i."

you finally turn to face him fully. he's watching you now. really watching, like he’s trying to map the years of distance written across your face. you meet his gaze, and the vulnerability between you hangs heavy, unspeakably intimate.

"i wanted to, but i didn't want to forget you," you whisper. "i just wanted the pain to stop."

his brow furrows, and his lips part like he wants to apologize again. bur you press your fingers gently to his mouth. you don't want more apologies. not now. not here. you want truth.

and this: him lying beside you, warm and real and trembling from the gravity of it all, is the truest thing you've had in years.

he kisses your fingertips. not out of habit. not out of desire. out of devotion.

"i'm not going anywhere," he whispers.

and you believe him.

not because he's perfect. not because this fixes everything. but because in the silence, in the dark, in the echo of everything you thought was lost. he came back. not with flowers. not with promises. but with himself.

willing. honest. wrecked and healing.

you shift closer. let your leg slide over his. let your forehead press into his collarbone. let your hand rest where his heart beats fast beneath his ribs.

his arms come around you slowly, completely. like he's learning how to hold you again, but this time with everything he’s afraid to lose.

and when he leans in, nose brushing yours, lips ghosting over your cheekbone in the softest, slowest way, like he's asking, not taking, it's not about sex anymore.

it's about rebuilding.

it's about letting the pieces fall and choosing to pick them up together.

and when his hand slides under the sheets again, not rushed, not demanding, just asking to stay in this closeness:

you don't stop him.

you don't want to.

because for the first time in forever, it feels like love again.

and this time, you're both finally ready to feel it.

[vampzity]

wet dreams | J.YH

★ DAY SIX: PILLOW HUMPING WITH YUNHO ★

pairing: bf! yunho x f! reader

getting your boyfriend’s attention is hard when he’s so busy with his game. you can’t bare to wait any longer, so you resort to making your own pleasure in hopes of getting his attention. only now, he’s watching you while you sit there obeying his selfish orders.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, no plot, pillow humping, voyuerism, degradation, nipple play, slight begging, dom! yunho & sub! reader, pet names (bunny, slut, baby), yunho’s an asshole but reader loves it

word count: 1.6k

“Dude, I literally told you to watch my back! What are you doing?!”

You sat in bed, frustrated at how long it’s been since Yunho promised to come lay with you. At this point it’s felt like hours and you were growing irritated.

Horny and irritated.

“Yunho it’s been an hour now! When are you getting off?” You whined, sulking under the blankets you buried yourself in.

He kept his focus on the game, fingers working tirelessly as he ignored your words and what seemed like your presence in the room. You rolled your eyes, your frustration only worsening as he didn’t answer you.

“Yunho?! Hello?!”

He moved his headphones off of his ear, eyes still focused on the game. He continued to shout random phrases into the mic, though that’s far from what you cared about.

“Could you at least acknowledge my physical presence here?”

Yunho sighed, putting his controller down and muting his mic. He turned his chair around, giving you a death glare while your face flushed red. He raised his eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well? What is it that you can’t wait any longer for?”

You looked away from his harsh eyes, tugging at the blanket. When he responded to you like that, you refused to bother him any further. A funny feeling filled your stomach; as rude as he was, it turned you on in ways you couldn’t explain. One may feel like it was disrespectful, but he knew just as much that you enjoyed his asshole persona.

Yunho scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as he began to turn around to face his desk.

“Don’t bother me unless it’s important.”

He put his headphones back on, unmuting himself before apologizing to his friends and continuing to play. You sighed, rubbing your hands against your thighs. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and he knew how badly you wanted him. What he didn’t know was that you couldn’t take the waiting game anymore and at this point, decided to take things into your own hands.

You pulled off your underwear, throwing it onto the floor. You slipped your hand between your thighs, your fingers slipping through your wet folds. You rubbed your bud softly, throwing your head back in pleasure with your mouth agape.

You attempted to keep silent— not that Yunho would hear much anyways, but the thought of being caught by him was thrilling. Arousing.

A soft whimper escaped you, making you freeze in place as you observed him quietly. No changes in his actions, you found it safe to continue. You quickened your pace, opening your legs further to allow more access to your bud.

You fantasized about his fingers, his long veiny hands touching against you in this way. Yunho’s hands were your weakness, making you come undone under even the slightest bit of his touch. How easily his fingers slipped in and out of you while hitting just the right spot.

You looked around the room, desperate to find something to heighten your pleasure. Nothing. Your body heated up, desperately needing to let yourself go. Without a second thought you grabbed a nearby pillow, adjusting your position so that you were sitting atop of it.

“Fuck..”

You moaned in relief, grinding against the fabric of the pillow case. Your hands sunk into the mattress, gripping at the sheets of the bed. Your pants grew harsh as your clit hit the pillow, your juices spilling onto it with every thrust. You looked up at the ceiling, squeezing your eyes shut as an immense amount of pleasure flooded your system.

Your soft whimpers soon turned into moans, furthermore turning into his name. Your body ran hot, your thighs burning from the constant friction you created against the pillow. You felt yourself slipping away into abyss, about to burst at any moment.

“What a slut.”

You jumped, looking ahead to meet his eyes. Yunho rested his head in his palm, smiling at you with a raised eyebrow. Your face grew hot, turning red from embarrassment at him catching you in such a state of desperation. He set his headset on the desk, muting the mic before getting up to walk over to you.

“I knew you were desperate, but not this desperate.”

Yunho leaned over, his face just inches away from your own. He tilted his head at you before stepping back to admire you.

“Well don’t let me stop you from enjoying yourself. I’ll just sit here and watch you.” He sat on the bed, a smug painting his face.

“Perhaps you’d like me to talk you through it, hm?”

You nodded quickly, your eyes begging for his attention. All you wanted was his attention, whether that be praise, degradation, touching, you didn’t care.

Your tits poked out from underneath your shirt, nipples hardened from the cold that hit them. He tugged against the hem, pulling it over your head and throwing it onto the floor. He brought his hand to the right one, his thumb rubbing against its sensitive tip softly. You moaned in response, grinding slowly against the pillow once again. His fingers tugged at your nipples, your naked body on full display to him.

“That’s it, let it all out baby.”

He moved closer to you, bringing your nipple to his tongue. He grazed it against the sensitive bud, his finger toying at your free one. You ran your fingers through his hair, moving as you threw your head back. Your pace against the pillow fastened, unable to control it.

“Poor bunny, you just wanted me to play with you, hm?”

“Fuck, Yunho..” he continued to toy at your breasts. His tongue taking turns lapping around your nipples. “Don’t stop.. so good.”

Yunho moved his head, watching as your body pushed itself into the mattress from the pleasure. You whined in annoyance, stopping to look at him. He furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing you by the chin.

“Did I say you could stop?” He titled his head at you, watching as your blood ran cold from his harsh demeanor.

You attempted to move your head no, only to be stuck from his grip on your jaw. He smiled at you, letting go of your face and walking back to his desk.

“Thought so,” he sat down in the chair, his eyes dancing around your naked body.

“Since you’re so impatient, you can sit there and fuck yourself dumb like the needy slut that you are.”

He leaned forward in the chair, his eyes piercing into your skin. He motioned you to continue, a smug smile painting his face. Your body heated up out of nervousness but still you continued, afraid of how easily he could switch his sweet demeanor on and off.

You ran your clit against the pillow, your tits bouncing with your movement. You started off slow, creating the slightest bit of friction between the fabric and your bud. Yunho brought himself closer to the bed, his face just inches away from your own. He held onto your thigh, squeezing it just enough for his nails to dig into your skin.

“Faster.”

Your face flushed red, nodding as you fastened your movements. His hand snaked up to your waist, moving them harshly for you.

“Do you think that’s funny? Huh?” His eyes pierced into your skin as you rode the pillow, his hands keeping you from stopping. You looked away from his dark gaze.

“Answer me. You think it’s okay to interrupt me?”

You shook your head no, tossing it back as the harsh friction soon turned into blissful pleasure. Small whimpers escaped you, your juices coating your sensitive bud. Yunho brought his hand to your nipple, letting his thumb run circles across it gently. Your body shuttered under his touch, making you throw your head back.

“Look at you.” he pinched your nipple slightly, watching as you tensed up. “You like this don’t you? Being humiliated?”

You nodded, your pace speeding up with every move against the pillow. He observed the way your body responded to his words, his touch.

“Gonna cum.” You were practically drooling. “Please let me cum, Yuyu.”

He titled his head at you, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your chin once more. You met his cold eyes, your heart racing as moans continued to escape with every passing second.

“You’re mine, you know that?” he growled. You let out a small yes in response, unable to make out much words in your state.

“And yet you think it’s ok to slut yourself out in front of my friends?”

His grip on your jaw tightened, making you wince in pain as you attempted to pull away from his grasp. His free hand held onto your thigh, moving it at a more aggressive speed. As you were nearing your high he let go of you, grabbing his headphones from the desk and holding it in front of you.

“Go ahead, since you want everyone’s attention so bad.”

Yunho turned the mic on, watching you fall apart before him as the pillow hit your clit in just the right place.

“You can cum in front of them too.”

His dozens of friends whistled, mocking your moans and whimpers as your climax washed over you. Anyone else would feel disgusted to be in your place, but you? Oh you loved it. The belittling, the humiliation— how aroused it made you to know others listened in to something that only belonged to Yunho. That they craved to have.

Your orgasm soared inside of you like a drug, your moans ringing off the walls as Yunho sat and watched you. The pillow soaked up your juices, coating your thighs in the process. You took in deep breaths, closing your eyes as it passed. He set the headphones down, muting the mic and coming to kiss your cheek gently.

“Better?” he asked. You nodded, trying to catch your breath.

He ruffled your hair, leaving one more kiss on your forehead before turning back toward his desk. You got off the pillow, throwing it to the floor and massaging your sore thighs.

“Good. Next time you bother me, I’ll make sure you can’t walk.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: MEAN DOM YUNHO??! CHAT?? DO YALL GET IT LIKE I DO??

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @dollywoo @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @nopension @nickgurl4life @stephanieeeyang

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill out the form here!

[everyonewooeverywhere]

puppy boy!yunho is consuming me🧍‍♀️

thinking about sleepy, sloppy makeouts with yunho when you’re both tired from a long day and can’t even find it in you to sit up straight.

you’re laying in his bed under his sheets and everything around you smells just like him. your legs are tangled with his and he makes sure he slots a knee between your legs. his hands groping at your thighs and your waist.

it’s simultaneously so comforting and so overwhelming. his mouth on yours is gentle yet messy. it’s not passionate, it’s slow and lazy but desperate. and the way he subconsciously grinds into you is the cherry on top. he’s so hard it hurts, so he keeps practically humping you.

but he has no desire to take his dick out of his pants. the way the fabric of his sweatpants serves as a thin layer between the two of you as he keeps grinding is enough. a soft whimper comes out the back of his throat each time his cock rubs against you.

and when you pull back he’s a mess. his face is flushed beyond compare, and his ears are red and hot. his pupils blown out and his breathing uneven. just so desperate for you.

he’s still grinding against you even when his lips leave yours. and you have to cup his cheek to make him look you in the eye. “does it feel good, puppy?” you mutter as you run your fingers through his hair and scrape your nails along his scalp.

he nods with tears in his eyes. “mhm..so good” he chokes out with a slight crack in his voice. biting his lip in desperation.

“keep going sweet boy,” you whisper against his lip as he keeps grinding on you. you’re not kissing him anymore but your face is so close that he can feel you breath against his lips. “make yourself cum…”

his hips stutter and a broken whimper escapes him as he feels himself losing control. and you glance down just in time to see the cum stain his gray sweatpants. he shakily pulls you closer to him, crying at the way your body rubs against his sensitive cock.

you smile softly up at him, planting little kisses along his jaw up to his bright red ears. and with you lips just so slightly brushing his ear you give him the last little bit of praise he needs, “good puppy.”

and he melts into your arms so you can hold him in your arms and stroke his hair just like the good puppy he knows he is.

….lol this got a little out of hand. this was not originally smut 🙂

[ilovejeansosomuch]

tiktok may be shutting down but not tumblr keep them fanfics coming‼️‼️

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: you can't fail this class or you won't graduate on time, and you'll embarrass your parents. you could go to the tutor that your school so graciously provides...or you could just fuck your prefessor

pairing: professor!yunho x female student!reader

genre: smut | non-idol au | university au

rating: 18+

word count: 3.3k

content/warnings: female reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet thing), sir/professor kink, unprotected sex, squirting, spitting (spit swallowing), infidelity, age gap (mc is in her early twenties, yunho's in his early 40s), dubcon (coercion), spanking, light bondage, breeding kink, copious amounts of dirty talk

notes: this got out of hand really fast... (and i didn't edit it at all)

"professor—" you gasped, fingers digging in to his linen suit.

his office was dark. the only light coming from the green desk lamp situated behind you. it was well past office hours, but you didn’t see yourself leaving this spot anytime soon.

you’d come to his office after receiving a notification that you were failing his class, a class you needed to pass in order to graduate on time. and you’d been studying so hard and working so late to try and get your grade up but nothing was working.

and when you walking into his office he smiled softly at you, "what seems to be the problem miss l/n?"

a few tears fell from your eyes as you explained to him that you can’t fail this class because then you’d have to take another semester, and you were mortified at the idea of disappointing your parents who were expecting you to start working at their company in a few months.

he looked at you with concern deep in his gaze, "oh sweetheart, why didn't you come to me sooner?" he looked up at you from his desk chair and gestured for you to stand in front of him. "i hate to see one of my favorite students struggle." he reached out for your hand and you slid it into his with little hesitation.

"one of your favorites?" you asked, flattered by the idea that he enjoyed you in his class so much.

he smiled, "of course, sweetheart." his thumb brushed over the tops of your knuckles, "i'd be stupid not to cherish such a bright and beautiful young woman in my class."

the tips of your ears flushed at his flattery, "thank you professor jeong."

"i'm always here to help if you need it," and when he stood up out of his chair he loomed over you. his closeness making you take a step back. your thighs consequentially pressing up against the back of his desk. your hand still in his as he brought it up to his mouth. kissing the backs of your fingers to your palm to your wrist. closing his eyes and taking a deep breath amidst every kiss. "you are so beautiful miss l/n."

"y/n. you can call me y/n." you whispered.

he raised an eyebrow at you. "yeah?" he took another step toward you, making have to grab his arms not to fall backward onto his desk. he leaned his face down to your ear, his breathe soft on your neck, "you seemed to like when i called you 'sweetheart' though."

"professor—"

his lips grazed your ear, "call me 'sir.' you can do that for me, right?"

you nodded, eyes welling up with tears at the anticipation, "yes sir."

a low growl rose out of his chest from you compliance, "god you're so perfect." he pulled back and looked you in the eyes again resting his forehead on yours. his hands started tracing the edge of your skirt, letting his fingers graze your upper thigh, "just a good girl who will do anything to impress her professor and get a good grade, right?"

you averted his gaze, suddenly ashamed about what you were doing here.

"oh sweetheart don't be embarrassed. you're just putting in the effort that your other classmates won't. you came to me for extra help, and i'm gonna give it to you, okay?"

"okay..."

you let yourself melt into the touch of his hands. the soft pads of his fingers caressing your inner thigh. he watched your face intently as you took in his little touches. how you clearly waited in anticipation for him to finally brush his fingers over your pretty lace panties.

he pinched the white frills of your underwear between his fingers. “we’re all alone here sweetheart,” he ran a finger under your jaw, “so you can be as loud as you want. i want to know what feels good.”

“yes sir.”

he leaned back from you for just a moment. hooking a finger under his black tie and pulling it loose. you bit your lip as you watched him unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and roll his sleeves up around his forearms.

when he leaned back in, he pressed his forehead to yours. "fuck i wonder what you taste like," his hand cupped the fabric over your already dripping pussy, and you rolled your hips to grind against it. "i bet you taste like fucking heaven. what if i just..." he pulled your panties aside, running his middle and ring fingers through your folds. he hummed in delight, "oh you feel so perfect, sweetheart." he kissed your cheek, "i can't wait to sink my cock into this perfect pussy."

a pathetic moan rose out of your throat, "please—"

he smiled softly and let his lips brush over yours. the tips of his fingers pressing into your soft cunt. "oh you sweet thing," he finally lifted you up onto his desk, letting your skirt rise up on your thighs, "be patient, and your professor will give you just what you need baby."

he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them up to his lips. looking deep into your eyes as his licked your wetness off of them a string of his saliva sticking to the tips when he pulled them out. "oh i was so right. you taste like heaven sweetheart." he pressed a long kiss to your lips. letting his tongue pass over yours so you could taste yourself on his mouth, "you taste like you were made for me."

he eyed the white button-down you had tucked into your little skirt. his fingers delicately popped open the buttons. unwrapping you like his perfect, pliant little toy. his hands brushed over your shoulders as he slid the shirt off your skins. he pulled it out of your waistband and tossed it behind him.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he cupped your breasts. that were still partially covered by the white sheer lace of your bra. his thumbs lightly circled your nipples that were fully visible through the mesh. you watched as his tongue came out and licked his lips. like he was on the edge of eating a meal he'd been waiting on a long time.

"you dressed up for me today, didn't you?"

you nodded, biting your lip to try and hold yourself together, "do you like it, professor? i picked it out just for you."

"oh you're just the sweetest thing aren't you?" his hand slid around to your back, "it's so beautiful but i think—" he pinched the clasp and let in come undone and fall into your lap, "i like you much better without it."

the cold air of his office caressed your chest, making your nipples harden. you shivered at the sudden feeling.

he placed his hands on your knees, "play with them for me, sweetheart."

the request threw you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, "huh?"

"play with your tits for me. i wanna see how you touch yourself," he leaned in close to you, "do this for me, and i reward you, okay sweetheart?'

"yes, sir," and you hesitantly cupped them in your hands. massaging them as he watched your chest intently.

"that's it. roll your nipples for me," his hands slid up your thighs. your back arched into him as you pinched your sensitive nipples between your fingers. you let out a soft moan. "good girl." he hooked his fingers into the waistband of you panties, "lets get these off of you."

and you lifted your hips so he could slide them down your legs. he slid them into his back pocket, and you didn't even try to stop him.

you reached for the button on your skirt, but he grabbed your hand, "keep the skirt on for me, baby. it looks so cute on you."

he flipped it up, though, and revealed your desperate pussy dripping all over his desk.

finally pulling his tie over his head, he let his shirt hang halfway open. "give me your hands, sweetheart."

you looked at him confused, but obeyed nonetheless, giving into his every demand with blind compliance. he slipped your wrists through the loop in his tie and tightened it, wrapping it a couple times into an inescapable knot. "perfect." he breathed. taking in the sight of his favorite student tied up and naked on his desk, just shaking with the anticipation of him actually fucking her. "my pretty plaything..." he muttered to himself.

his hand slipped between your legs, letting his fingers tease at your folds. playfully spreading them and letting the cold air hit your sensitive pussy. you shivered at the contact, "please professor..." looking up at him desperately, "i need you."

"oh, you sweet thing," he playfully pouted at you, "you've been so patient, haven't you?"

you nodded, resisting your urge to grab his wrist and grind into his hand. he positioned his ring and middle fingers at your entrance, "well let me reward you, sweetheart."

and he slipped his two fingers inside you so gently. letting your warmth surround them. slowly pumping them in and out of your prefect pussy. he found it endearing how you struggled to find a spot for your hands. your hands flexed and twitched trying to resist the urge to reach for him. he was going to tell you to hold onto his dress shirt, but he much preferred watching you struggle to hold yourself together.

he finally got a soft moan out of you when he pressed his thumb into your clit. rubbing slow circles on it and watching as your back arched into him. he kept a steady pace with his fingers, not letting himself lose control to his own desire. but he couldn't help but let his pointer finger slip inside.

you sucked in a sharp breath, "ohhh..." one of your legs wrapped around his waist. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"how does that feel, baby?" he muttered against your ear. his breath on your neck making you shiver.

"it hurts.." he sunk all three fingers inside and curled them, "sir!" you gasped.

"shhhh..." he ran his other hand over your hair, "just breathe, sweetheart. breathe. i got you." he kissed your temple, "your professor's gonna take such good car of you, okay? i'm not gonna stop until your little pussy is squirting all over my desk." you moaned loudly at the thought, "oh? you like that? you're dirtier than i thought, baby. have you thought about this?" he loved how you trembled under his touch, "do you have dirty thoughts about your professor during class? maybe that's why you're failing. because you can't stop imagining me bending you over my lap in the middle of my lectures."

you tightened around his fingers at the idea. imagining laying over his knee with your skirt flipped up as he spanks you like the little slut you are and fingers you until you can't even thing straight. "well, we'll have to try that sometime, won't we? want me to fuck you in the lecture hall? where all your classmates and instructors can hear just how pretty you moan."

he smiles at the little nod you give him, but he notices how little you're comprehending his words. "you close, sweetheart?" you just hum in acknowledgment. "hmm, what about now?" he curls his fingers and pressed them directly into your g-spot. pumping in and out making sure to hit it every time with his fingertips.

"oh...oh!" you throw your head back, "i'm gonna cum! oh fuck.."

"cum for me pretty girl. make a mess baby. all over my desk."

your tied hands gripped onto his dress shirt, the pleasure from his fingers making you lightheaded. you let out the prettiest moan as your orgasm hit your. pleasure wracking through your body as he continued to fuck you with his hand. hitting your g-spot over and over again. determined to make you squirt all over his desk.

he dragged his fingers over the spot one last time before you felt it. your orgasm washing over you in messy spurts as you came all over his hand. you juices spilling all over his desk. he chuckled as he kept his fingers inside you. letting your pussy pulse around them. his lips graced your hairline, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart. you listen so well. what did i do to deserve such a perfect toy?"

"thank you, sir," you looked up at him, your pride obvious in your eyes. oh that little praise kink of yours made his life so fucking easy.

"of course my sweet thing," he brushed a thumb over your cheek. "you think you can take more? i think you would look so pretty on my cock."

"please, sir..." you leaned into his hand, "i'll be good. i promise."

his hand slid down to your neck, "oh i know you will." you watched as his tongue slid out of his mouth and wet his lips, "you'll do anything for that passing grade, won't you? even let your professor fuck you in his office after hours. that's a little pathetic don't you think?" he smiled as your expression changed into one of shame. "couldn't get anything into this dumb little brain of yours, so you had to come visit me in this slutty little outfit and just beg me to fix your grade? yeah?"

the fingers on your neck squeezed lightly, "i can imagine how mortified your parents would be if they knew how their perfect little angel got her good grades. just whoring herself to a professor twice her age. because she's not smart. she's just a dumb little whore who lets her pussy solve all of her problems."

tears pricked at your eyes, "i tried professor jeong! i did! i just—" you choked on a sob, "i just couldn't get anything. i'm a good student i promise! and i study hard."

he hummed, "like you did in professor park's class?'

your breathing stopped, "wha—"

"oh baby," he kissed the tip of your nose with a touch of his own condesending sweetness, "i know i'm not special. you should know that mr. park and i are really good friends. and when i told him that you were failing my class, he let me in on your little secret."

"professor please," a tear fell down your cheek, mortified that he was telling you this.

"my sweet thing...messing around with older bachelors is one thing," he swiped at your tears with his thumb, "but i can only imagine how mr. park's wife would feel."

you choked on a soft sob, trying desperately to hold it together, "oh god, please don't tell her. i didn—" you shook your head, "it was just a one time thing. and i really needed to pass his class."

"hmmm i'm sure you did, sweetheart." he leaned in and let his tongue wipe up a tear on your cheek, "and don't worry, i won't tell anyone. it'll be our little secret, okay?"

you nodded hesitantly, "thank you professor jeong."

"of course. but i do ask for something in return," he threaded his fingers through your hair, "you're such a sweet, submissive little thing. i don't think i can let you go so easily. i'm gonna need a couple more..." he looked you up and down hungrily, "favors from you."

"favors?"

"mhm..." he tightened his hold on your hair, "favors." he yanked your head back, "i wanna see how far i can go until i break you."

you whimpered.

"i know that you're a filthy whore deep down, baby. you just haven't found the right guy to try and slap you around a little bit." he forced your mouth open with his free hand, "you're gonna take ever little thing i give you." a wad of spit fell from his mouth and onto your tongue. you fought the urge to swallow it, waiting on his command. he smirked at how easily compliant you were. "swallow."

you let his saliva trail down your throat.

finally, you watched as he unbuckled his belt. instead of letting it drop he set it on the desk next to you before unlooping the button on his pant and letting them fall to the floor. he grabbed your tied wrists and pulled you off of his desk. "turn around."

you obeyed without hesitation, turning toward his desk. he pressed his hand to your back and pushed your chest down onto the desk. you heard him shuffle out of his boxers before grabbing the belt next to you.

you heard the leather snap against itself. "we're gonna play a little game, okay?"

"yes, sir," you nodded with your face pressed into the desk.

"good girl," he trailed the belt along your spine and you shivered. "we're gonna play a little game. i'm gonna fuck you on my cock. and i'm not gonna hold back. but you aren't allowed to cum until..." he snapped the belt against your ass. you yelped in pain, your hips jerking forward in surprise, "you count thirty spankings."

"thirty!?" the belt made contact with your ass once again.

"yes, baby. thirty. and if you can't do it, then your gonna have to go home and cum all alone in your bed. because i'm not gonna give you anything you don't deserve."

his cock slid through your folds, and he ran the tip along your clit. delighting in how you shuddered under him. you gasped when he finally sunk into you. filling you up in ways that you weren't sure were even possible. "perfect little pussy," muttered to himself.

he pulled out and thrust into you, hard. his tip smashing into your cervix. but you couldn't even catch a breath because he immediately brought the belt down onto your ass.

"one!" you choked out. followed by a "two! three!' and the leather snapped against your skin again.

"good job, baby. you're doing so perfect."

you whined, "thank you, sir."

"four!" you felt the sting again. this time much harder than the last. and five, six, seven, and eight felt like they were burning into your skin.

he already had you sobbing into the wood. after nine and ten, he let your skin breathe, but he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly. and you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

the next spank surprised you, "eleven..." you sobbed into the desk. and he kept going, keeping his relentless pace on both fronts. surely bruising your ass and your cervix.

by the time he hit twenty-five you were desperately trying not to cum. your legs were useless, no longer holding you up at all. and your ass was going numb.

"you're so close, sweetheart. count five more for me, and i'll let you cum so hard, okay." he kissed the nape of your neck.

before bringing the belt down again two more consecutive times, and you counted between sobs. and you were already tightening around him, on the verge of your release.

and maybe he was feeling gracious, because the last three strikes were much softer and his thrusts started becoming much more erratic. "fuck! i'm close baby." he grunted in your ear.

he pressed his chest into your back, the buttons of the dress shirt he still wore digging into your back, "oh god i'm gonna fill you up so good. gonna breed this dumb little pussy so you know it's all mine."

"all yours," you cried, "it's all yours." your whole body shook under him, "oh i'm coming! shitttt sir i'm coming."

"yeah, baby," he growled, "cum with me. cum around my cock while i breed you so good. ahh shit! yeah there we go baby. there we go..."

his cum filled you up as you came together. seeping out of your pretty little hole when he pulled out to admire his handy work, your pulsing cunt pushing his cum out in little spurts.

he kissed your shoulder and leaned into your ear, feeling you breathing heavy under him, "we are gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart, just you wait."

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @painted-hills

[everyonewooeverywhere]

do you have any thoughts about lawyer!yunho bc it's a concept thats been jumping around in my brain for weeks bc of this comeback

i never have before but now i absolutely am.

like lawyer yunho who comforts the pretty girl who comes to his office in tears because she thinks her boyfriend's been wrongfully imprisoned. and he promises to help her get him an appeal and get him out.

but as the weeks go on, he's less and less eager to help you get him out. not because he doesn't want to help you, but because you're just so perfect for him that he gets sick to his stomach when he imagines you leaving him for that criminal.

and one night you are both talking in your apartment. and you're feeling more distressed than usual, and it just feels like this is an impossible task. so he comforts you in his arms. running his fingers though your hair and letting you cry into his freshly pressed suit. "oh sweet thing...it'll be alright."

you sniffle and pull away from him, letting his thumb wipe a tear from your cheek, "thank you so much, mr. jeong. you've been so helpful. i don't know how i could ever fully repay you."

he smiles softly at you. he can think of a couple ways.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

PUNSIHMENT AND AFTERCARE W/ YUNHO

pairing: dom!yunho x female!reader

rating: 18+

content/warnings: female reader, overstimulation, nothing super explicit

NSFW 18+ | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

there are a couple ways that punishments can go when you break yunho's rules. the first being rejection. no matter how much you beg and plead, he won't give you any of his attention. you disobeyed him, so now you have to suffer the consequences of your actions. and you can dress up in that pretty new set he bought you, and you can slide onto his lap all you want, but he's just going to pretend you're not there. letting you breakdown to tears in babbling apologies. crying into his shirt that you're so sorry that you disobeyed him. and all you want is for him to touch you and hold you and kiss your cheeks while he tells you how much he loves you, but he'll just raise an eyebrow at you and ask if you think whining will really help you get your way.

aftercare: he's so intentional about giving you extra and specific attention. making sure that you know absolutely and for certain that he wants you. that he cherishes you. and that you are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to him. he probably still won't fuck you, but that's because he wants to only focus on his words. giving you the reassurance you need to be sure that his actions were just a part of the scene.

another way he'll punish you is quite the opposite. yunho has always be quite the sucker for overstimulation. it used to be something that would happen every once in a while on accident. but when he's using it as a form of discipline it is very intentional. will usually bend you over his lap. starting slow with the foreplay, but ramping it up the moment you start getting vocal. you usually cum for or five times from his fingers alone before he removes you from his lap. and the worst part about this punishment for you is that he won't actually fuck you. he'll reach into the nightstand instead. picking from a variety of toys to make you even more of a mess. he does this for two reasons. one, he doesn't have to worry about his own stamina, and he can push you a little further each time without having to monitor himself or hold back. and two, well it's not really a punishment if he lets you get drunk off his dick, is it baby? he will push you until he knows you physically can't cum anymore (or you safe word).

aftercare: a bath. will help to the bathtub before filling it and slipping in behind you. will take as long as he needs to clean you up. making sure to kiss nearly every inch of your body making sure to ease any pain. will carry you out of the bath and dry you off. brushing your hair and kissing your lips every time he gets the chance. and will literally hold you all night if you need it so that you can wake up in his arms and know that he loves you dearly.

general taglist: 

@swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine 

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect @seomisaho @bigboymoozz

ateez taglist: 

@certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms 

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity 

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex 

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr 

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost 

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld 

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @painted-hills 

@minkioswoo @bkimrose @strawbshrtcks @dwcljh

[angelkittieriki]

Title: sex on the couch🛋

Warning: 18+, porn without plot, Big cock, feral horny sex, no condom.

|Yunho x Female Reader|

You're bouncing up and down on yunho cock fast on the couch, you're eyes rolling back while you're riding his big cock, "I'm going to cum" you say while moaning, yunho flips you over, y'all end up on the carpet floor, he raises your leg while he put cock in your pussy and begins fucking you harder and faster, his cock slamming in and out of your pussy, your moans and the skin slapping echoes the living room, y'all both end up cumming together, he gets up and tells you to bend over, as you bend over and have your back arched, he slides his big cock inside your pussy from behind, he begins picking up his pace by pounding and fucking you hard, the skin slapping sound echoes the living room again, you starts to throw it back on his cock, ass clapping back on his hard cock fast, you both moaning, he ends up pounding your ass and pussy hard, he ends up releasing his load of cum inside you again, he picks you up and puts you against the wall, your legs are on his hips, he begins picking up the pace and pounding your pussy again, you hold on to him while moaning as he fucks you deeper and faster, you moans in his ear "don't stop...please" he slamming his cock inside you over and over and over again, he moans and whimpers while steady pounding you, he end up releasing big load of cum inside you again, he fills you all the way up, he grinding into you one last time, his pace finally slowed down, you both breathing heavy, "you drive me fucking crazy, I'm so addicted to you, he says while whispering in your ear.

Sidenote: I had this horny ass dream about yunho😩... and i had to write it down.... and this song was playing in the dream too lmao😭

[mingkiz-deactivated20260510]

this is making me feel some kind of way

credits: https://x.com/zznyuno when i tell you that this video is all i have been thinking about these past few days

[swtblue-deactivated20251201]

Just a dirty thought of mine with a phrase I read I don't know where:

Imagine you are sitting on Yunho's lap while he plays on the computer when you turn your head to look at him, coming across with his taut, beautiful neck asking you to press your lips there but before you can even think of leaning over to do that Yunho says "Kiss my neck and I will change the way you walk, princess".

I would do it again and again 🫣.

[fixonateez8]

I love watching him laughing his heart out 🥺

[choiyeonjuns]

SOOBIN :: BIAS' BIAS EP. 3 [ATEEZ'S WOOYOUNG]

[hoonie]

after they were told not to be too close

[hyunni-baby]

Forgive me father for I have sinned. I am thinking the unholiest of thoughts and I don’t want them to stop.

I’m fucked.