Warnings : P in V sex, porn w/o plot, squirting (lots) , fingering, pet names, oral (f recieving), moment of restraint, dirty talk, its just filthy lol
Masterlist / Requests
. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.
Mingi and you fit together like a lock and key. Everything about him complimented you perfectly, and vice versa. Both of your weaknesses and strengths offset each other. When the world seemed to want to swallow you whole, he was the light that brought you back. In return, your arms were always open, a safe place for him to run. He’d even take you to go see the cliche movies you loved so much, but on the condition you’d go dancing with him over the weekend. It was like you two had known each other in your previous lives, having beaten the odds and found each other once again.
That's how you’d ended up here. Completely bare in front of him, your legs spread, sitting up while resting on your palms. You were grateful the chemistry between you two extended into the bedroom, because Mingi made your body do things you didn’t even know existed. Your hips buck slightly as his tongue laps at your folds, the sounds coming from him lewd and obscene. Three of his long fingers are buried inside you, pressing against a spot that makes you whine loudly. A thin layer of sweat coated your body as you were unknowingly pushing him harder against your core. Your body is tight, eager for release.
“C’mon baby, relax for me…” His words are barely audible between your legs but you do as he says. With a deep breath, your calves relax, your leg stops shaking and the grip on his hair loosens.His mouth latches onto your clit, swirling his tongue on the sensitive nub while his fingers consider. His fingers coax more of your arousal from you, his palm collecting what he can’t lick up.
A strange feeling in your stomach suddenly alerts you. It's…deeper, almost. You’ve never felt this before, and are unsure as to what it is. If you had to describe it, it would be close to needing to use the restroom. That's the last thing you want to happen. Slightly embarrassed, you attempt to push Mingi's head from between your legs, only to have his tongue flick quickly against your clit. “M-Mingi…fuck…wait, stop, I…” Your words fade into moans as you continue your attempt to get him to listen, only for him to speed up.
“Let go, it’s okay.” His free hand rubs small circles on your thigh as he murmurs against your skin. Unable to hold back anymore, you let whatever this is engulf you.
Your eyes roll as the most intense feeling of pleasure overtakes you. Tears prick your eyes, blurring the image of Mingi between your legs. You can feel your pussy flexing around his fingers, pulling him in deeper, urging him to continue his prodding on your g-spot. The pleasure only grows, your hands fisting the sheets. In one moment, it feels like your entire body is floating as your pussy squirts onto Mingi's face. His lips seal tightly over you, drinking you in yet he doesn’t lighten his movements. It feels endless. He’s like a man starved, his tongue and fingers devouring everything you give him. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall back onto the bed, tears staining your cheeks.
“Fuck Mingi I-” Your sentence is cut off by his hand over your mouth. He's sitting up on your right side now, his fingers still buried inside you. At some point while he was in between your legs, his grey sweats had disappeared, his cock rock hard and leaking onto the sheets. Whatever happened to you seemed like it lit a fire in him. His pupils blown wide, his lips wet and swollen, Mingi's voice seems deeper somehow as his eyes lock with yours. His thick fingers begin to move inside you once more and you whine into his palm, your hand gripping his wrist.
“Oh honey, I have 4 fingers in you now, you feel that?” He moves them roughly against your walls, beginning to thrust them into you again. “Now, you're going to squirt for me again, hm? Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Make a mess for me?” His words are soft, the exact opposite of his fingers roughly thrusting into you. When you nod, he removes his other hand from your face. It joins his other hand between your legs, rubbing your sensitive clit in swift circles.
If your eyes could roll any further back into your head, they would. It's all too much. You’ve never felt your pussy flutter like this before, and the stimulation to your clit only deepens the pleasure. You can physically feel yourself leaking onto his hand and the bed. Each thrust of his hand splashes droplets of you onto your thighs. It's an absolutely filthy sight, Mingi completely ruining your pussy with 4 fingers, his other hand quickly strumming your clit as you grip the sheets, threatening to tear them.
The same feeling as before sneaks up on you too quickly. There's no fighting it this time, the pleasure completely engulfing you. The first time you were holding back. Now you're embracing it, gushing past Mingi's hand. Suddenly, his fingers are removed from inside you but he doesn't even give you a moment to process the loss before his open hand is strumming your pussy, applying harsh pressure onto your clit. His other hand grips your chin, forcing your mouth open so he can slide his wet fingers against your tongue. The taste is barely salty, not really tasting like anything, but his digits quiet your screams as just the movements of his hand on your clit drive you over the edge again.
“Good girl…You fucking soaked the bed baby…Fuck…” Mingi removes his hand from between your legs and your mouth, leaving you completely empty. Your legs slam shut, your hips still bucking softly as small aftershocks hit you. He has the biggest grin on his face as he tilts his head. He lifts the hand that was inside you, showing you it's absolutely drenched. You can physically see the wheels turning in his head while he speaks. “Let me try something. Open your mouth.”
At this point you're completely out of it, so you obey without question. He leans over, bringing his hand up above your face. “Stick out your tongue.” Another instruction mindlessly followed. Mingi smirks at your obedience before he flicks his wrist experimentally, drops of you landing onto your cheeks and tongue. Your wordless answer is to giggle as he repeats, only harder this time, your face peppered with the proof of your actions.
“My messy girl.” Instead of wiping his hand clean, he wraps it around his shaft, hissing as he strokes himself with your squirt acting as lube. At the same time, he forces your legs open, kneeling between them. Your body reacts without much thought or care for how sensitive you are, arching your hips up so his length grinds against your slit. When Mingi grabs your hips and forces your legs onto his shoulders, he leans over, folding you in half.
“You’re gonna give me one more, okay baby? I know you can.” His sentence is punctuated with his cock thrusting into you, filling you to the brim in one move. Your hands search for something to grip, landing on his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Your body rocks as he thrusts relentlessly into you, squelching sounds coming from between you. It should embarrass you, but it spurs you on, your pussy tightening around him. Both of you covered in sweat, your loud moans and whimpers echoing off the walls. When Mingi looked down, he saw your pussy creaming on his cock, white pooling at the base of his shaft. He growls and his pace only picks up.
“Thats it, c’mon baby..” From this angle his cock is pounding into that same sensitive spot relentlessly, building that same sensation, your body locking once again. With one rough thrust, you're thrown over the cliff. The difference? The angle. Each thrust of Mingi's cock pushes more out of you, onto his waist and your thighs. He's groaning as he fights against your tightening cunt, his own orgasm building as he continues. Your mouth agape in a silent scream, your head thrown nearly fully back, you look gorgeous like this. Completely ruined for him. When your voice catches up to you, you let out a guttural groan, and that's what finishes him. He slams into you, staying there as his cock twitches inside you. Filling your cunt while he shakes between your legs.
After a moment, he speaks, panting between words. “Youre amazing, holy shit…Such a good girl, taking everything I give you…” His hand brushes your hair out of your face as he lets your legs off his shoulders, resting them on either side of his body. You feel like you’ve been drained of everything, unable to find the words to express what you're feeling. Mingi leans forward, resting his head on your chest while his cock softens and slips out of you.
Deciding to shower after you both can breathe normally, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He hums in response. And just like everything else, the two of you fit together, as if you were the missing puzzle pieces that’d finally found their way home.
Warnings : Alcohol, trauma, disassociation, memory loss, depression, body pains, signs of abuse (unknown to reader), stalking fear, sabotage, anxiety , cigarettes , suspected tampering
Authors Note : PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT IN THE RIGHT HEADSPACE!
Masterlist / Requests
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The creak of the bar door went unnoticed by the patrons indulging at the counter as you walked in. Mingi sat in a booth opposite, joined by several friends he’d recently introduced you to. When he sees you, he raises his hand and beckons you over. Only you could hear your sneakers sticking to the floor as you walked, the sound being drowned out by the laughs of others and the early 2000s music playing over the radio.
It had been a week since you had seen your friend. Even though you’d answered his messages with I’m just busy or I’ll call you later, he never just let you be. In a way, you appreciated that. There was never any question of whether he cared about you. Seeing his face light up at the sight of you warmed your heart. Regardless of everything, Mingi was a constant in your life.
“Hey guys.” Your voice was monotone, offset by a smile you offered to everyone at the table. There were 3 of them there besides Mingi. You recognize their faces, but you’re drawing a blank when it comes to naming them. Rather than make a fool of yourself, you hope it somehow comes up in conversation. Mingi gestures to the open spot on the booth across from him, and you take your place, sliding into the booth next to one of his friends.
When you turn your head to the person next to you, your blood runs cold, even though you can’t place a finger on why. You recognize his face and the smile he offers in return. “Remember me, doll? Hongjoong.” The name clicked into place. He was the one who brought up playing the game at the party. That’s all that registers for you about him though. By the end of that night, you were so intoxicated that you fell asleep in Mingi’s arms as he walked you from his car to your apartment, so you blamed your lack of recall on that.
“It’s nice to see you again!” a blonde man says from the spot diagonal from you. Your face must’ve given your misplacement of him away, because he introduced himself again.
“Seongwha. We kissed at the party.” His nonchalant tone was refreshing in comparison to the pit in your stomach you got when thinking about last weekend. You’re relieved to find that he simply thinks of it as a kiss and nothing more. The last nameless face states his name again, San, and you nod as you try to commit their identities to memory. Mingi jokingly asks if you’ve forgotten him too, your answer coming as mock confusion, earning a hearty laugh from him. He always warmed whatever room he was in with that laugh; it was the first thing you noticed when you’d become friends.
The men have their drinks already. Some form of liquid sedation that, when you ask what they’re called, they answer with such confidence it makes you want the same thing. They got here far before you did, meaning Mingi had already downed his first one. He asks what to grab you from the bar, and you answer with whiskey and coke. Something safe and hard to mess up. After the week you’d had, you deserved at least that.
The day after the party was spent trying to remember what happened. It was a mostly solid memory; Mingi leading you through the crowd, the spin the bottle, the drinks. The edges of your brain grew fuzzy after that though. It was like you were watching a DVD with a scratch on the disk, skipping over the damaged parts. Your body showed proof of something though. When you showered, you noticed there were small bruises on your hip, completely unidentifiable in their cause. You’d always bruised easily, so that was easy to explain. The thing you couldn’t figure out is the tenderness of your labia. Almost like friction irritation. Maybe your jeans were too tight the night before and you didn’t notice. Whatever it was, you were watching yourself go throughout the normal motions that day, remiss of any intention in your movements.
It’d even put a damper on your work. You found yourself blanking out frequently, your lips slightly parted as you disassociated. You’d never been one to do that before. The walk to your car at night was a constant look left and right, searching the shadows. For what, you didn’t know, but every sound quickened your pace. Even when the car door closed, you adjusted the mirror to see the backseat, half expecting something to be there. There never was. You’d began to check the locks on your door before you laid down for the night multiple times. The shower curtain never fully closed, the bathroom door being left open to reveal the living room. The groceries you’d bought the day before the party went untouched in the fridge, the bananas rotting on the counter. You lied to yourself and said you’d make banana bread with them, knowing you wouldn’t.
You didn’t know what was happening to you. You felt like your world was being turned upside down for no good reason. Just an off week, maybe? Regardless, you decided to agree to come out tonight to attempt to get a break from it all.
San and Seongwha are deep in conversation, something about the soccer game on the TV. Mingi was stuck at the bar, flirting back and forth with the bartender who only saw the interaction as a way to earn more tips. That left you with Hongjoong.
“So, Y/N, what do you do for work?” You tell him, deciding not to glamourize it. It was simple work and paid the rent. That’s really all you had time to care about.
Hongjoong isn’t drinking, his fingertip running along the edge of the glass. You have two choices here. The soccer game or this conversation, and you know nothing about soccer. Deciding to entertain him, you turn your body to him, your head resting in your palm as you speak. “And what do you do?”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. His hair falls in his face and he pushes it back before he answers. “Oh, I do this and that. Just stuff to get by. Mingi - “ He nods his head toward the bar , “-and I know each other from high school. I just moved back to town.” That explained why you hadn’t met him before the party. He sips his drink and gazes at you over the glass. His eyes bore into you as if they were searching for a question only he had the answer to. The conversation is interrupted by Mingi bringing your drink, taking his spot across from you back. He commands the attention of the group, everyone’s separate conversations stalling in favor of joining in whatever he wanted to talk about. That was the thing about Mingi. He knew how to make people feel seen.
Your drink tastes of cheap liquor and off brand soda, but it was something and for that you were grateful. You grew more comfortable with each passing moment, joining in on the conversation. Your drink went quickly since you spent more time getting it into your system than savoring it. Within 10 minutes, you’re the one standing at the bar, asking for another while the boys stay seated. One drink was your rule for coming out, but that first one went so fast you were okay with indulging a bit.
You’re unable to make out what they’re talking about, but the laughter coming from the table twinged your heart a bit. If you needed anything right now, it was a good laugh. And being the only woman at the bar, you couldn’t help but feel like all eyes were on you. A hand on your back startles you, breaking your attention from watching the bartender mix your drink.
“Whoops, sorry about that doll.” Sans voice eases you, your shoulders relaxing once more. He’s ordering another drink too. If he feels any sort of buzz, he’s good at hiding it. The bartender slides your drink over, the liquid sloshing but not spilling. San catches it when you fail, handing it to you with a shy smile.
“O-oh, thank you.” He smiles then orders another beer. The first sip of your new drink hits hard but not nearly enough to get a reaction. “What’s so funny over there?” He shrugs it off, waving his hand dismissively to the group. It’s explained to you quickly, how Hongjoong had made such an absolutely depraved joke that the others couldn’t keep a blank face.
The night goes on like that. Comfortable, easy conversation that didn’t take much thought to join in on. It’s exactly what you’d hoped for after the week you’d had. The one thing you can’t come to terms with is how Hongjoong’s leg bumps into yours every so often, your response being to pivot them the other way. He followed regardless. You’re silently grateful when he gets up to use the restroom, giving you a moment of reprieve.
The bar isn’t getting any less busy as the night goes on. It’s still mostly young adults with the occasional middle aged man looking to drink away his unfulfilled dreams on a Friday night. By now the music had looped, and in checking your time you sigh, not wanting the night to end, but it was almost midnight and you were getting tired. You wouldn’t say you were drunk, but you definitely weren’t sober.
“I should really get going.” You announce, fishing in your purse for cash. Much like the rest of your life this week, it was a mess. It was slightly embarrassing to be doing this, your ears turning red as the trash in your purse rustled. Mingi notices, shooting you a sympathetic look. “I got it, you can just send it to me later.” He gives you no choice and for that alone you nearly burst into tears.
You’re the first up from the table, pulling your car keys from your pocket. At least you’d thought to keep those set aside. Seonwha notices as he stands, raising an eyebrow at you. “Youre going to drive home? The three of us are calling an uber. Let us call you one.” Mingi nods before him and San disappear to settle the tab at the bar. A twinge of guilt stings your chest as he swipes his card, offering the waitress his number one more time, only to have her decline.
“What about you?” You turn towards Hongjoong. Like you, he has his keys in his hand, spinning the ring on his finger. He’d drank nearly twice as much as you yet if you’d just met him you’d think he was sober.
“I feel fine. Imma be real careful, promise.” That earns a chuckle from you. His voice drips with confidence and you with it didn’t give you the butterflies it inevitably did. Your remark is similar, telling Seongwha your apartment is only a few miles away and you’ll drive slow. His expression is almost one of pain, but he nods silently, giving up the fight. He didn’t know you well enough to insist, and he knew Hongjoong wouldn’t listen anyway.
With the bill paid and drinks finished, your group leaves the bar, reconvening on the sidewalk. It’s completely dark now, the only light being the flickering street lamp and the ones that pooled out the bar windows. It would’ve been somewhere you avoided this late had you not been in the company of Mingi and his friends. Their uber is only a few minutes away, so you decide it’d be best to head to your car while they were still standing there.
“You’re sure?” Mingi asks as he hugs you. You went around the group, offering a side hug to everyone except for him, who wrapped you in his arms and his pure size made you feel safe.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Text me when you get home, I’ll do the same.”
You nod and wave to them, crossing the street as their ride pulls up. You can’t get to your car fast enough, suddenly feeling vulnerable. In front of the bar, Hongjoong pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and letting a puff of smoke out before he leaned against his car. You assume he doesn’t like the smell seeping into his seats. Yeah, he seems like the kind of guy who values his car far too much. With your door shut and your rearview mirror showing that nobody hides in the shadows for you, you turn the key.
It’s met with a loud sputtering and a cough of the engine. The car rumbles as if it’s going to start, only for it to stall completely. It doesn’t make sense, you got your car serviced meticulously on time. There should be no reason for it not to work. A plea to nobody in particular leaves your lips as you attempt to start it again, only to be met with the same obnoxious groans and screams in protest. You let out a mixture of a choked sob and a yell of frustration, leaning your forehead on the steering wheel.
A knock on your window makes you jump. Hongjoong stands in the dark, urging you to roll it down so he can talk to you. Your better judgement says to ignore him and call Mingi, but you open your door, meeting his gaze. “Car troubles?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe. Suddenly you feel extremely claustrophobic.
“Yeah. Guess I’m getting an uber after all.”
“Nonsense. I’ll drive you.” He reaches out, offering you his hand. Regardless of his smile, you hesitate, unsure as to which path to take. You really didn’t want to spend the money, plus who knows if your card is actually in your purse.
“Okay…” Your agreement is hesitant, but you take his hand, getting out of your car. Nothing outwardly looks wrong with it, and your heart sinks knowing that the repair for whatever is wrong will be expensive. Hongjoong’s hand steadies you, leading you to his car. He smells of clove cigarettes and expensive cologne.
His car is just as you thought it would be. A newer model of some brand you didn’t even bother to learn. Yours was older, the seats being a tan faux leather and the console eroding away at some parts, showing the foam underneath. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a nice car, it was that your car worked. Or rather, had worked. Hongjong’s seats are the real deal, his radio is a touch screen and the air conditioning is blasting. You grimace at the difference, trying to push down the envy. It even smells like a new car.
“I don’t bite, ya know.” He remarks as he gets in the driver seat. Your knees are turned away from him. Out of embarrassment, you adjust them to where they’d be if you felt comfortable.
It didn’t really make sense why Hongjoong made you so nervous. His presence made you feel like a rabbit in a trap, even though you’d only met him twice. His eyes seemed to drink you in. Occasionally you’d catch him licking his plush lips as he looked at you. He seemed like the type to drive you crazy on purpose. If that wasn’t enough, Hongjoong was insanely attractive. Everything about him, physically at least, drew you in like a moth to a flame. So when you notice you’re staring at his hands on the wheel as you give directions home, you scold yourself internally, looking away with a blush.
“It’s just up here.” You point at the tall building to the right of you. It wasn’t fancy but it was home and that’s what you wanted the most. When he pulls into the parking space in front of the entrance, he turns in his seat, looking over at you. His eyebrows are furrowed as he gestures towards the building.
“Mind if I use your restroom?”
The thought of him being inside your home makes your stomach flip. You’re shocked when your lips open and grant permission, wishing you could smack yourself out of whatever trance he put you in. You hardly even spoke to him and he had you like a puppet on a string. Like he knew something you didn’t and he used it to his advantage.
The stairs of your apartment building are steep and by the time you reach the fourth floor you’re nearly out of breath, and the alcohol wasn’t helping. Hongjoong follows close behind, his presence palpable and intimidating. The lock on your front door clicks as you turn the key, opening your safe space to whatever energy he was bringing in.
You’re immediately in your living room. The kitchen sits on the left, dishes piled in the sink and the trash starting to overflow. Luckily the half wall blocked that from this point of view. Your home is simple, a couch and a television, the coffee table between the two littered with magazines and your laptop. Greenery adorns the room in random little places, seeming like they were placed there without intent and only to get it out of the way.
“Down here.” You point and show Hongjoong the bathroom, thanking yourself that even if the house suffered after this week, you never let the bathroom get dirty.
When he closes the door, you suddenly feel like a stranger in your own home. You’re unsure where to stand, should you sit instead, would it be rude to start washing dishes? It was as if you were an intruder, feeling unwelcome in the 4 walls you pay for.
Opting to sit on the arm of the couch, you wait for him to come out so you can nudge him out the door faster. Hongjoong in your apartment, in your bathroom, feels wrong and like an intrusion. But were you really going to deny him after he just gave you a ride home? Maybe you’re too nice for your own good.
When he comes out, he’s drying his hands on his jeans, and a memory of last weekend finally comes into focus.
Hongjoong is standing in the doorway. There’s an ache between your legs. Mingi is there, yelling at you. Your head is pounding and you’re struggling to sit up. He’s standing there with a hand towel, brushing off his groin and looking you over.
“Just got a drink spilled on me is all”
“Thanks, Y/N. You have a lovely home.” He glances around as you both head to the threshold. If you had the gull, you’d push him out and lock the door in his face. He couldn’t leave fast enough. Just as he’s about to let you close the door, he turns, a cold smile on his lips. “Let’s do this again, hmm?”
“Yeah, let’s all get together soon.” You didn’t know what Hongjoong meant by this, nor did you want to find out. The inclusion of everyone was purposeful, hopefully getting across the message that you didn’t want to be alone with him again. Only when he turns and begins the descent down the stairs do you allow yourself a full breath.
Your head is throbbing, probably from hitting your head on the steering wheel. After completing your routine of locking the door multiple times, you head to the bathroom. Mingi’s ringtone blares from your pocket and you answer, immediately being greeted by his questions.
“Are you home?! You never texted me.”
“I just got home. My car wouldn’t start. Hongjoong drove me.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” His voice goes quiet, guilt washing over you as you detect the sound of hurt. That wasn’t your intention. You explain that Hongjoong was there, Mingi and the others had already left and it was just easier to let him help.
Your phone is tucked between your ear and shoulder as you open your mirror cabinet, searching for something to soothe your headache. But this all looks wrong. Bottles are shuffled around and your skincare is stacked completely wrong. A pit forms in your stomach as you consider that maybe you did this, even though you know for a fact you didn’t. Mingi’s rant fades to the back of your consciousness as you find the Tylenol, right next to a prescription bottle that wasn’t completely sealed. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge as you close the cabinet, deciding you’d just deal with the pain.
“Yeah, Mingi I’m heading to bed. Good night.” You hang up without waiting for an answer. Your heart is racing in your chest, your palms sweating as you leave the room, closing the door behind you. The one person in there besides you was Hongjoong. He had no reason to look through your medication, right? Maybe you just put everything away in a hurry.
Yeah, you'd been rushing around this morning to get to work. You probably just put it all away too quickly.
The locks are checked again. On the windows, the door, even the balcony. A once over isn’t enough though and soon you’re going through the cycle again. The anxiety is drowning out any semblance of reassurance, nothing feeling like enough to keep you safe. The next hour is spent pacing, locking, unlocking, locking, pacing. Until you find it dizzying to stand, finally giving in and climbing under the covers of your bed. The walls feel like they’re watching you, gauging you for weaknesses.
That night you hardly slept. But when you did, Hongjoong’s laugh echoed and you replayed his excuse about the towel, searching for something in the frame of that moment. You’d awake on and off with a start, unable to shake the fear. Only when the sun peaked over the horizon did you allow your weary eyes to rest, finally falling asleep once the darkness couldn’t hurt you anymore.
You don’t wake up until late in the afternoon. It’s hot and muggy in your apartment since you didn’t turn the air conditioner on. The phone next to you lights up with a notification. It’s a voicemail from Mingi, only a few hours old.
“Hey, so I got my mechanic to stop by your car, which you should really be locking, and he says…uhhh…here, you say it.” You’re smiling, knowing that Mingi was more like a big brother than a best friend. The phone shuffles, then a deep voice you don’t recognize. “Yeah, it’s your starter fuse. It was disconnected. Took a long time to find, but I got it. Normally doesn’t happen without someone doin’ it, but it isn’t unheard of…” Your ears start to ring as the phone shuffles back to Mingi. “And don’t worry about the cost because…”
The conversation fades to background noise, the voicemail finished when a new notification makes you shoot up in bed. It’s an unsaved number, and it makes your blood run cold despite the temperature in your apartment.
Darkness engulfed the people seated in the room, many and many eyes wandered around, looking and waiting for the show to begin.
A beam of light came from above, lighting up the space for the star of the night. The red curtains opened, a feminine figure revealed herself to the public in a beautiful purple dress. Long and silky white fabric wrapped her arms gracefully while a burgundy shade painted her lips.
Fingers grasped the cold metal head of the microphone, notes were echoing now between the walls and the high ceiling of the theater. Your mouth fell apart, the lyrics you have memorized with your whole heart escaped and danced naturally to the melody of the band behind you. You have already conquered the audience’s attention, in particular the one of a man. Seated in the balcony section, Jongho was admiring you, the amazing singer who stole everyone’s heart with her unique voice. People couldn’t stop talking about you, this certainly picked his interest.
And you were mesmerizing indeed, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you; gaze lingering along the curves of your body enhanced by the dress you chose to wear that night. Lips always curved into a smile and eyes lit up by a bright spark of joy, of love for what you were doing. You were a person fueled by dreams, happiness and hope - you were perfect…for him.
Once the show was over and you thanked your lovely and loyal audience with a generous bow and blown kisses, the owner of the theater called you in the back and told you a man was eager to meet you. It’s going to be a fan of yours, you thought immediately. It was common for you to receive visits from your fans after the show, often giving out autographs or receiving gifts from them.
You reached the balcony and you saw him, the man who asked to see you, seated on the leather couch provided, sipping some scotch from a wide but short glass. You cleared your throat, you wanted to make him notice your presence there, but you didn’t know he noticed you since your first step into the balcony. He set down the almost empty glass on the little side table right there, then he stood up and walked towards you. The silence was loud, the anticipation of meeting your fan was the only thing keeping you anchored there; you couldn’t tell what exactly but you had a weird feeling about him.
When he was in front of you, your eyes were caught off guard by how handsome and refined the man looked. Nice suit, a few strands of hair falling down his face, expensive jewelry, strong perfume - everything about him screamed luxury.
“It’s nice to finally meet the star of tonight’s show”, his voice was calm and mellow, so rich and warm. “People say the truth when they talk about your amazing voice. You are truly talented”, his sophisticated compliments made you smile on the spot, even blush a bit. You were used to receiving kind and sweet words from your fans, but hearing them from this man was different somehow.
Bowing slightly, you thanked him, but before you could say anything else, he spoke again.
“I’m Choi Jongho, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance”, he said, bowing his head after. You were quite surprised by his old-fashioned manners, yet you didn’t mind them if it meant he could still be respectful.
His name wasn’t new for you at all: a few days ago you heard the owner of the theater talking about a fine and rich gentleman who was paying a visit to the city and word was he was ready to invest some of his precious money if he could find the right deal. The theater needed some renovations around, but the owner was in debt, so now you were understanding the strange worries of the man before the show.
“There’s a special guest, you know…Don’t let me down tonight! Perform like you usually do…No, no! Give the best performance of your life!” the owner mumbled, fingers fidgeting nervously around the buttons of his suit jacket.
“The pleasure is mine!”, you bowed your head as well with a polite smile. When you rose your face, your eyes were met by a beautiful rose, petals of the same color as the blood. A deep shade of red you could rarely see. You took it between your hands, inhaling immediately the sweet scent of the flower which was making your head spin because of how intoxicating it was. A small “thank you” escaped your lips still curled into a smile, no more polite and formal, now it was more sweet and genuine.
“I don’t want to waste your precious time, so I will get straight to the point”, his voice made you snap out of your thoughts. “What’s your dream?” he asked you, his voice was like a tender caress.
The question caught you by surprise, making you wonder whether answering truthfully or not. Seeing your confusion mixed with a thinking process too complex for that kind of question, he chuckled, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I have my reasons to ask you that”, he said as if this piece of information could help you.
An image flashed inside your mind: the sound of hands clapping so loudly it could pierce your ears, people screaming your name standing up from their seats while you can’t stop crying, holding a huge flower bouquet. In your pretty dress, fame and love were overwhelming you - you were now a famous singer.
“I wish I could keep doing…this” and you tilted your head forward, pointing at the stage down below. “It’s what I always wanted to do”, you said smiling from ear to ear. Your eyes lit up again, like they did when you were performing on stage and music was like a ghost, leading your body at the rhythm and making you spin around. But reality hit you instantly, a punch to the stomach.
“But I know I can’t live off my dream…this is just a placebo for my heart”, your smile turned bittersweet while you clenched your hand against your chest, your heart. Your gaze lowered, tears were already threatening to come out. You knew you couldn't let the man see you like that.
“What if I tell you I can make your dream come true?”, his words cut through you, leaving a scar which was going to hurt so bad if he wouldn’t keep his word.
“Wha-what?!”, you exclaimed surprised, a loud gasp leaving your mouth. He walked behind you, you could feel his gaze trailing your naked back.
“Just think about it: you, singing on a stage while you pour your heart into it…and people, so many people screaming your name and crying out your songs”, he whispered next to your ear, his hot breath against it. His fingers grasped your bare shoulders, caressing your heated up skin. A shiver ran down to your spine, he was purring into your soul sweet promises, making your common sense drunk.
But something about him unsettled you. Not only was he overstepping a line he shouldn’t have touched from the start, he was moving words like strings of a puppet and you were being lured into them.
“This is your best bet, my dear”, his whisper was the hiss of a snake, tempting you to let yourself go into his tender embrace. You were a fool, you were being played by a handsome man just to fulfill your childish desires.
“What do you want from me in return? You are clearly offering me a deal”, the rose you were holding was being strangled by your fingers, holding onto it like an anchor. The few thorns left on the stem were pressing against the silky gloves, stinging the skin underneath them - a sensation which was reminding you who you were with right now. “Money? Your name on every record?”, your breath quickened as you tried to keep your composure.
His chuckle was low and dark, you felt the vibration rumbling from your ear through your whole body. You thought immediately of the worst case scenarios and you couldn’t help but feel scared. Yet, somehow Jongho caught the glimpse of your fear through your skin, he sensed it.
“I’m not that kind of monster, dear”, his whisper became quieter like he wanted to seal it between your body and the air.
“Then, what kind of monster are you?” you mumbled, voice cracking at the realization of the answer you could receive from him. One of his hands traveled down to your arm, fingers teasing the hem of the long glove as he wanted to let them slip underneath the fabric.
“I can be kind…”, and his fingers went further, now they were brushing your skin. They felt unexpectedly soft, even though his touch seemed harsh. “Sweet…”, he was slowly pulling the glove off. “Caring…”, and he revealed your naked arm, goosebumps all over it. Jongho walked by your side, he was in front of you again and he tossed the glove on the leather couch. He grasped how your skin was reacting to every little touch from him, loving the moment. “The monster you want…”, he bowed his head, both of his hands holding yours in a tender embrace. “No, the monster you need…” he whispered with a gentle smile. You couldn’t stop staring at the manly frame, his words and demeanor were a magnet for you. His lips ghosted over the top of your hand, leaving a kiss on it, only like a gentleman would do. But you didn’t expect he would keep his eyes locked with yours, his gaze was slowly infiltrating beneath your soul, clenching it with his sharp claws.
Your breath shortened, chest rising and falling quickly as your cheeks were being painted with a naive pink. You could feel his claws squeezing your heart now, a faux and dangerous attraction you were trying to not fall into.
“Vow that your soul belongs to me”, his voice was lower than ever, irises which could snap your body in half. A blade cut right through your chest, a stinging and cold pain tormenting your mind. The way the word “soul” rolled out from his tongue was diabolical, drenched by a sick and twisted tone you couldn’t ignore. “And I will give you everything you desire, little mouse”, his mellow timbre caressed the strings of your common sense, trying to convince them to let go and let him conduct. But Jongho knew he already had you in his hand.
A deafening high pitched noise caught you off guard, a memory buried deep inside your mind resurfaced. Darkness swallowed you whole, you could barely see the palms of your hands.
Then, you felt a stinging cold breath against the back of your neck, making every single part of your body shiver. You hugged yourself, clenching your clothes with all the strength you had. Fear was taking over you.
“Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you”, a deep and warm voice tried to reassure you. The snap of fingers made the whole place lit up: candles were placed everywhere but the room was hollow. Your heartbeat was racing while your eyes were searching for anything that could give you some answers. You were completely lost.
“Rarely do I pay a visit to lost souls like yours before the time is due”, the manly voice began to explain, echoing throughout the walls of the room and your head. You could swear you were on the verge of madness. “But I couldn’t resist the urge to meet you…”, now the voice was ringing through your ears, almost like you could feel the cold breath of the owner of the voice. “Your skin is impregnated with the sweet scent of desperation and dreams, my favorite scent…”, and the voice was right in front of you, ghosting over your lips for a mere second. “Soon we will meet, little mouse”, your breath died in the back of your throat as if you wanted to talk but something - or someone - was stopping you.
Long black nails appeared from the void of the room, scratching your arm softly, tickling your skin unintentionally. Fingers which resembled claws grabbed your chin, pulling your face down. Now you were forced to look up at whoever was doing this to you. Your gaze tried to search for the eyes of the mysterious entity, looking directly at them.
“I wish we could abandon ourselves into a bit of pleasure before our former meeting”, the air around you became suddenly cold, a wicked and low chuckle surrounded your face. “But I have to be patient…And I have to make you forget of our premature conversation of tonight”, the claws disappeared, yet you felt their grip around your neck, almost like they wanted to leave a mark.
“Bye bye, little mouse” was the last thing you heard before waking up.
A shockwave of adrenaline ran through your whole body - without thinking further you snatched your hand from his grip. Fear and realization hit you at the same time, the man could read from your face what you were thinking.
“Tut tut”, Jongho shook his head while an infuriated expression was slowly being shaped. “I thought you would never remember or even…realize who I was”, and all the tenderness disappeared in a blink of an eye. He pushed the tongue against the cheek, eyes scanning your whole figure which was shaking. From your hand, the rose fell to the ground but you were too scared to notice it, not even the faint sound startled you.
“You are the devil! You were in that strange d-dream”, words came out strangled from your throat, your knees ready to give up and follow the same fate of the gift from the man.
“I am Lucifer, little mouse. At least say my name correctly”, and you indeed fell to the ground as you were trying to step back from him. Now he was looking upon you, into his gaze you could see the flames of hell burning while people were screaming and crying in pure and raw pain. The devilish grin appeared on his lips, enjoying your little soul writhing in fear underneath him.
“So, whatever are we to do? Why don’t we play a game? You win, I give you everything you desire without any payback. But you will enjoy yourself more if you lose…” he said before stepping towards you, his foot between your parted legs.
The party with Mingi at his frat house is a blur. You can’t seem to remember a thing after the first few rounds of a high school friendly game. But when Hongjoong starts inserting himself into your life, who will you lose? How deep will he take you? How deep will you let him?
Summary : Mingi brings you along to his frat party, and there you meet Hongjoong. A few rounds of a high school friendly game can't hurt, right?
Warnings : Dom!Hongjoong , Sub!Reader , alcohol , drugging of drinks, spin the bottle, 7 minutes in heaven, blowjob, p in v sex,manipulation, dub-con/non-con, creampie, unconciousness, mention of cocaine, somnophilia,degredation
Authors Note : This is the darkest and longest story I've ever done.
PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT IN THE RIGHT HEADSPACE!
Masterlist / Requests
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You didn’t want to be here. It reeked of desperation and mediocrity. That wasn’t even the worst part, though. Everyone seemed to know each other, and your only solid company was the friend who dragged you along. Mingi was the only way you would even get into these parties, considering you didn’t go to college.
“Please, you have to come! What other plans do you have?” Mingi begged over the phone earlier in the afternoon. His voice was whiny, and if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d say annoying.”
“None! That’s the best part!” You laugh as you clock out of work, excited to start a relaxing weekend. Or at least you hoped. It had been a hard week, and quite frankly, the last thing you wanted to do was go socialize.
“Pleaseeeeee…” He groaned again, the word entirely too drawn out. You could envision Mingi standing in his room at the frat house, stomping his foot in protest. He wasn’t going to let up until you agreed. With a groan, you threw your head back and succumbed to the peer pressure. It was met with a squeal and a stream of thanks on the other end of the line.
That’s how you ended up here. Weaving through the mass of sweaty young adults, the bass blasting through the radio shook the cheaply built walls. Everywhere you looked, you saw more and more depravity. Strangers making out in the corner, beer being chugged in the other room. A quick glance into the kitchen revealed a woman running her nose across the counter. You can only assume what she was doing. It wasn’t your first party, but the sights always made your eyes bug out.
“C’mon!” Mingi yells over the beat, intertwining his hand with yours. His large frame made a path through the crowd, absent of any pleasantries as your bodies brushed against others. It was packed; not a room without a crowd of people. He led you down the stairs where the party was seemingly less full.
“Mingi, wait!” You complained, his wide strides becoming hard to keep up with. Your eyes adjusted to the dark fairly quickly. Sighing as you bound off the last stair, Mingi has now left you behind, his sights set on a group of men on the back wall. They greet him with a smile and a half hug, exchanging quick pleasantries as you follow suit.
“And who’s this?” One of the men asked, nodding his head toward you. His eyes are dark, setting off his soft features. His black hair falls across his face, flowing fluidly with the movement of his head. He stands out against the others that surround him, his smile wide and welcoming, but you still feel a knot in your stomach when you meet his gaze.
“Y/N.” You offer a smile in return, unknowingly moving closer to Mingi. His size helps you feel safe, even if your heart is racing. Something is poking at your intuition, and your guess is it has to do with the group of people in front of you. Your name is followed by waves and Mingi’s introduction of his friends. You’re only half listening, too distracted by the ache in your chest.
The one who asked your name finally identifies himself. “Hongjoong…. Mingi always did have an eye for the pretty ones.” His voice is low, but loud enough to hear between the sea of other noises. He flashes a toothy smile, and you suddenly feel extremely exposed, even though you deliberately put on jeans and a tank top to avoid feeling that way. Unsure what to reply with, you look up at Mingi.
“I’m going to get a drink.” There’s no way he could miss the pleading in your eyes. Silently begging him to come with you and get you away from them.
“Okay! I’ll be here.” His voice is cheery as always, your hint going completely over his head. Fuck. Looks like you’re on your own.
You’ve been to Mingi’s frat house enough to know your way around. It was dirty, beer cans littering the floor and dust on the barely hanging pictures on the wall. Your thoughts attempt to drift to the amount of bugs that might be stashing away in this place, but you quickly shake it off. Without Mingi, you’re a lot less noticeable in a crowd, leading to people bumping into you left and right. Nobody apologized.
The kitchen was only slightly less packed in comparison to the rest of the house. Strangers were still exchanging heated glances before wordlessly crashing their lips into each other. They still swayed drunkenly to the beat shaking the house. It was some popular song you’d heard on the radio not too long ago, not enough of a fan to learn the title. The bright red cooler was like a beacon in the dim light, beckoning you over. The steps are almost automatic, the way you grab a plastic cup and fill it to the brim with what you assume is some sort of punch mixed with as much alcohol as they could fit. One sip burns your throat, your nose scrunching in response.
There’s no rush to get back downstairs, so you linger for a bit. In less than 10 minutes, you’ve seen more people down drinks than you would at the local pub. There’s skin on skin in every direction. In one corner, a man has his arms around two seemingly attractive women, taking turns kissing them. The couch in the living room should have more attention on it, considering you could see one of the men you walked by on your way in on his knees, his head bobbing as the man in front of him tilts his head back. You almost set your drink down for a moment, only stopping when you notice the small amount of white powder peppering the counter. This festival of depravity was both intimidating and welcoming, uncaring who decided to wander in. You head back to the basement, suddenly feeling far too out of place.
“And let me tell you, when I say-Y/N! You’re back!” Mingi’s sentence is interrupted by your return. He’s still with the same crowd, a beer can in his hand now. You assume one of his friends must’ve been saving it for him. You’re nursing your drink , swirling it around in the cup as the conversation continues.
“You know what we should do?” Hongjoong asks, pointing to an area of the room that seems secluded. “Spin the bottle. Like when we were teens.” His words catch the attention of a few women in the nearby area and they act like baby birds, flocking to him, eager for his attention. It was safe to assume this guy was, in one way or another, well known in the school. He was handsome, you’ll give him that.
Mingi and the rest of the group, including the guys he had introduced along Hongjoong, make their way across the room. This seemed juvenile, but what else were you going to do? Your body was buzzing with unknown alcohol mixed with the heavy bass. Everyone sat around in a circle, one of them putting an empty beer bottle in the middle. There’s no way this floor is okay to sit on, but you do anyway, right next to your friend.
The rules are the same as they always have been, spin the bottle, kiss who it lands on. Simple enough. Games like this don’t change. One of the girls starts it off, the glass spinning in circles on the dirty carpet. It lands on one of Hongjoongs friends, San if you remember correctly, and they meet in the middle of the circle, his hands cupping her face. His kiss is soft and passionate, the girl nearly melting in his hands. The classic oohs and whistles are followed by clapping from the rest of the players. You’re spared the next few rounds, downing your drink far quicker than you meant to.
“I’m gonna get a refill.” You murmur to Mingi, his attention completely on the game as he brushes you off with a nod. He’s already kissed 2 women and one of his friends, his lips slightly swollen.
“Oh, I can get it.” Hongjoong perks up, smiling at you. You’ve felt like prey sitting across from him, unable to ignore his sharp gaze. You figured he was the type of person to do this, pierce people with his eyes before his words ever met their ears. He’s up before you can even protest. He moves like he can split the sea, and he all but does as he disappears up the stairs.
He’s not gone for long, coming up behind you with another cup. That same grin still across his lips as he hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours. They’re warm and soft, and there’s no question as to if he does it on purpose. He returns to his spot in the circle, leaning back on his palms. He made it back in time for his turn. He opted to skip, insisting he just wants to observe.
The heat rising in your belly from the alcohol was far too noticeable, and you curse yourself for not eating today. You attempt to douse the burn, drinking from the cup Hongjoong just got for you. It tastes…different than the cup you got earlier, It’s bitter, a shiver running up your spine at the initial drink. Hongjoong has been watching the whole time. Your reaction must’ve been noticeable, because his next remark is, “They just made a new batch. Watched them pour the last of whatever alcohol plus the last of the punch. It’s probably pretty strong.” His words don’t leave any room for questioning. It’s definitive and certain.
Mingi looks at you, a grin across his face. He’s having the time of his life, locking lips with people that he’d seen around campus. “You alright?” He asks, more out of courtesy than genuine concern. Not because he didn’t care, but because you weren’t giving him a reason to be worried. You nod, drinking again. The cup is already halfway gone, and the hair on your arms is standing on edge.
“Your turn.” Mingi points out the bottle at a stand still in the middle of the circle. Originally, your plan was to just watch others play, but now that the alcohol is hitting your system, you’re itching to join in.
You reach forward, wordlessly spinning the bottle. It almost mocks you with its refusal to stop, the pit in your stomach growing in anticipation. When it finally does, it’s pointing at one of the men you’d introduced yourself to before. If you remember right, it’s Seongwha, and he’s already leaned up on his knees, holding his hand out. He seems far gentler than the people around him. You copy his actions, allowing him to take your hand. It’s soft and comforting, pulling you closer until you’re against his chest.
There’s no words exchanged, his other hand cupping your cheek and bringing your lips to his. They’re pillowy and warm, but the kiss doesn’t last long, much to the dismay of everyone around you. Seongwha squeezes your hand once, giving you a soft look that says nothing and everything all at once. After you both return to your spots in the circle, you notice Hongjoongs eyes boring into you, dark and glaring. Another drink, and you swear the alcohol is only becoming harder to swallow. Hongjoong is the next to speak.
“Let’s change it up… How about 7 minutes in heaven instead?” The suggestion is met with eager agreements. Everyone here had someone they secretly hoped the bottle landed on, and you’d put money down on the idea that most of them are hoping for Hongjoong himself. Mingi is next, haphazardly spinning the glass, his eyes tracking it like a hawk. When it lands on someone across from you, the cloud in your brain barely makes out the memory of his name being Yunho. They’re both up in a flash, clasping hands and darting towards the stairs, hoping there’s an empty closet upstairs. “I’ll be back!” Mingi attempts to yell to you before he disappears out of sight.
Fuck. Now you’re alone, stuck with these people whose faces are starting to blur together. You feel cold, even in a room full of people. If it’s noticeable to anyone, nobody says a thing. The game goes on, people partnering up and scurrying off to wherever they can find, setting the timer on their phones on their way out. By the time it gets to Hongjoong, there’s less than 10 of you left. Your drink is empty. You really want to get up and get another, but your legs suddenly feel like lead.
The wave of drowsiness hits quickly. The world seems to be moving in slow motion. The bottle is still spinning, at least you think. Hongjoongs dark eyes are locked on you. It’s almost as if he’s willing the bottle to point to you. And it does. Your skin feels cold. You feel like you’re shivering, even as he gets up and offers you his hand.
Maybe he wants to help? Yeah, that must be it.
The game is long gone in your thoughts, now only focused on the way your breath has slowed to the point you have to remind yourself to inhale and exhale. Hongjoong steadies you as you rise to your feet, swaying slightly.
Man, I didn’t even drink that much…
His arm is wrapped around you, leading you to the staircase. Fuck, are you really going to make it up there? There were too many people on it, how were you going to get through? They’re all moving at a snail’s pace, as if someone slowed down the world. Hongjoong hand grips your waist, but the touch feels a million miles away. He whispers in your ear as he practically lifts you an inch off the ground, your toes dragging on the stairs. It doesn’t hurt.
“C’mon, I got you.” His words are meant to comfort but offer everything but. If he let go of you there’s no question your knees would give out. He must know that, because he still holds onto you while knocking on doors in the hopes the room is empty. Most of them are answered with the sound of moaning or a loud “Occupied” as he knocked. Until one of them wasn’t. Pushing the door open, he walked with you inside, finally letting you go so he could turn and lock the door. Your body feels like it’s floating while also feeling like an anchor to the ground.
Hongjoong mutters something under his breath. It’s barely comprehensible, but you think he says something about how “it” and time. Whatever “it” was, he didn’t seem bothered by it. The room is dark, but your eyes fixate on the bed in the middle of the room. It’s unmade and has clothes on it. This isn’t Mingi’s room, you knew that much. The mattress calls to you, urging you to stumble forward until you fall onto it, your drowsiness hitting you like a freight train. Realistically, you could curl up here, sleep the night away and miss the party entirely. You’d be okay with that.
You’re so spaced out that you don’t notice him until he’s lying next to you, the weight of the bed shifting. His hand reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look over at him. “Fuck you’re beautiful…” he murmurs, and you can tell the smile that follows hides something behind it. Regardless, you lean into his touch.
Your eyes are scanning him, somehow moving rapidly and not at all. It doesn’t feel right, but you can’t get them to stop. He laughs as he leans forward, his forehead against yours. “Completely gone aren’t you?” Your words form in your throat but never come out, the only answer you’re able to give is silence.
Then his lips are on yours. And as much as you want to recoil, to push him away, your arms only do the opposite, fisting the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. Your body is doing the exact opposite of what your brain is begging it to. Hongjoong was initially just testing the waters, but your eagerness spurs him on, his hand dancing down your side. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Another sign you should get up and leave.
The voice inside you is screaming now, only getting louder as his hand reaches between your legs. You hadn’t realized until this moment exactly how turned on you were. Although it didn’t make sense, nothing happened to arouse you, you arch your hips into his hand anyway. The seam of your jeans brushes harshly against your cunt, your mouth finally opening to let out a whimper.
“I’ve been thinking about this all night.” His voice is the only one filling the air as his fingers press the fabric against you. It’s rough and rigid, but you can’t deny it feels good. The kiss breaks, his head moving down to the crook of your neck. “Gonna do so good for me..”
Your hands are resting loosely on his back. His lips are peppering kisses on your neck, though their void of affection. He’s working your pussy now, pressing down harder while your hips rock against him. In one fluid motion, he moves off the bed, standing near your head. With one hand he undoes his zipper, reaching in and bringing his cock through. It’s hard as a rock, protruding from his groin. Precum beads on the tip, offering lube as he strokes himself in front of your mouth.
Stop…
Wait…
No…
If you could form the words, you would fight him, throwing curses in his direction. Your vision is slightly blurred by now, but you know what is in front of you. If only your body would just catch up to your brain. Instead your mouth opens, an invitation for his intrusion. He eagerly accepts, pushing his cock past your lips with a hiss.
“Shit, you got a nice mouth baby…Fuck…” His hips move in sync with the rubbing between your legs. By now it’s almost painful, but of course you can’t say protest. Your drool coats his shaft, your tongue working against you as it swirls around his length. The wet noises filling the room are obscene, only offset by his groans. With both hands resting on the bed , he uses you as he wishes. When his hand fists your hair and yanks the root, you don’t flinch. There was no reaction to Hongjoong holding your head down. You should be gagging. Instead, the drool drips out of the corner of your lips. He tastes warm and salty and wrong.
“Such a good girl, you ever let Mingi use your mouth doll?” His question is bitter and accusing. Where is Mingi? He was with you…It’s been more than 7 minutes. His name circles in your thoughts as Hongjoong fills your mouth. His hand has moved from between your legs, both of them holding your head to his stomach. There is no gagging, no fighting.
As your vision continues to blur around the edges, things seem to happen scene by scene, as if in a movie instead of real life. He pulls you off of him with a loud pop, smiling down at you as he squeezes your cheeks. The smile you weakly give sends a jolt straight to his cock.
He shakes your head, acting as if you’re some toy he’s holding back from breaking. “Tell me you want this.” He commands. No hesitation, just confidence.
Do I?
I’m so wet…
“Yes.” The first word you’ve spoken since leaving the basement comes out hoarse and quiet. If Hongjoongs eyes weren’t dark before, they are now. It’s impossible to tell his iris apart from his pupil, but even if you could, there would be no safety waiting for you.
This time it’s you pulling him closer. You’re the one pulling him between your legs, the one grabbing his cock and stroking it while he tugs the collar of your shirt down, your tits bouncing free. He groans as he watches, his hips rutting into your hand. “You really are a whore, hmm?”
Whatever he says doesn’t reach the part of your brain that should be offended. Your body is on autopilot, a mess of whimpers and desperate grasps for fabric. You’re blinking entirely too slow, occasionally feeling as if you drifted to sleep for a moment. Maybe you did.
There’s no class to this. Your bottoms are shed and thrown across the room. Fully exposed in front of this stranger. Your intuition is telling you to get out. But the feeling of his thick cock against your slit ignites something primitive in you. In one move, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning loudly.
Hongjoongs hips move at a ruthless pace. The headboard slamming into the wall behind it. He stretches you out so well, your walls squeezing around him rhythmically. Both of your moans reverberate off the wall, a failed attempt at quieting the music outside.
“Yeah, take all of me. Fucking hell”
“Look how wet you are baby.”
“Fuck you’re tight.”
His words are beginning to fall on deaf ears. The exhaustion is creeping back in. You’re seeing triples of his sadistic smile above you. You turn your head, locking eyes with a photo of a family on the nightstand. They seem happy. The hand that was previously clinging to him falls to the bed. “I’m so tired” You complain between moans. It’s met with a laugh and a light slap to your cheek.
“Awe poor baby, why don’t you rest?” His words are the exact opposite of his actions. He’s drilling into you, hitting your most sensitive spots. It feels so good, but you’re so tired…
One intentional movement is all it takes to send you over the edge you didn’t even know you were on. He laughs again as you gush around his cock and onto the fabric of his pants he didn’t bother taking off.
That wears you out. You stop trying to stay awake, your head lolling to the side and your eyes fluttering shut. Hongjoong doesn’t stop. In your rest, you can hear him speak.
“Sleepy little girl..”
“I’m not done with you yet..”
“You’re such a whore..”
“I’m cumming in you..”
“Fuck…”
“I hope you’re on the pill”
The fade to unconsciousness has the soundtrack of his voice and laugh attached.
Sometime later you awake to Mingi shaking your shoulder.
“HEY! Wake the fuck up!” He raises his voice, finally rousing you.
Looking around, you don’t recognize this room. It’s not Mingis. What were you doing in here? Your confusion must be written on your face because Mingi begins to answer only to go back to his concerns for you.
“This is Jonghos - Wait. Where were you? You scared the shit out of me! It’s been two hours!” His voice is higher than normal. It would’ve been comical if you could sit up straight. You attempt to, only to find yourself needing to support yourself on the headrest.
Why can’t I open my eyes more?
Why are my pants unzipped?
There’s something between my legs…
“I must’ve drank too much” your words are slurred and slow, but they ease Mingi, his facial expression relaxing. It smells like sweat in here.
“Thanks man, I’ll get her home.” Your friend says to someone unseen.
“She must’ve been hammered and snuck off up here. Sorry dude.” The one who introduced himself as Hongjoong steps into the room. He offers you a grin, which for some reason severely unsettles you. You can’t help but notice the dish rag he’s dabbing on a wet spot near his groin. He notices and chuckles.
“Just got a drink spilled on me is all.”
The boys exchange goodbyes with a promise of Mingi getting you home. His strong frame braces you as you rise to your feet, and there’s a sudden ache between your legs. Mingi assumes the whine that escapes your lips as he walks with you is just from you being tired.
“See you next time , Y/N. Feel better.” You can only manage a flash of a smile before his gaze turns your blood cold. It’s predatory and sinister. It’s the type of smile that hides secrets. Between the drooping of your eyelids, the slowness of your breath and the weakness of your muscles, it doesn’t leave a lasting impression.
So the next weekend, when you get a text from Mingi asking about going to the bar for drinks with his friends, you agree with little hassle. One drink then home couldn’t hurt, right?
Hooking up with a stranger after a date that stood you up never felt more right.
10000% self indulgent, not gonna lie! I left it open for a part 2 that I'm debating on writing.
WARNINGS: smut, fem!reader x nonidol!Yeosang, poly yeosang, spanking, oral (m&f receiving), Yeosang is so mean in this, age gap (maybe like 10-15 years??), squirting, hair pulling, name calling (bitch, whore, slut, etc), this is just pure filth lol.
2.6k words
MDNI!!!
Ten, twenty, thirty minutes pass before you consider giving up and just head to the bar inside the restaurant. Your date had stood you up, no excuse. No text, not a word. Which was annoying because you took an everything shower for this. Legs all shaved, hair washed, body exfoliated.
Sighing, you end up blocking the dude and head to the only seat available next to a man with semi-long black hair. It reached just past his shoulder, but he had it tied back. Glasses sit nicely on his face. You take the seat, giving him a soft smile as he raises his glass to you. Doing a double-take, scanning his features once more, you realize how absolutely gorgeous this man is. Why is he alone at a bar on a Friday night?! (But little do you know, he’s had his eyes on you since you entered the bar.)
Catching you staring, he smiles. Licking his lips before speaking, “Can I get you a drink?” He speaks lowly; all you can focus on is how deep his voice is. Blushing, you nod, “Sure, I’ll take a vodka soda.” he nods, gesturing to the bartender.
“So, may I ask why a beautiful woman like yourself is here alone?” Sipping on his drink and eyeing you closely, you start to feel naked. Butterflies flutter in your tummy, sighing as you respond. “Got stood up. No text. No call. Nothing.” The bartender handed you the drink, downing half of it within seconds. He eyes you hungrily, thinking of how soon he can get you to his place. “What about you? You’re so gorgeous, it’s hard to believe that you’re alone.” You mentally slap yourself. How fucking bold could you be? Eh, you’ll probably just blame the booze if he gets uncomfortable.
Laughing quietly, he just shrugs, “long story. I’m Yeosang by the way.” He reaches his hand out, you give your name, and shake it. His skin was so soft and warm, you began to wonder what they’d feel like caressing your body.
Shaking your head to rid the thoughts, feeling like a weirdo fantasizing about a man you’d just met. “Such a pretty name.” His tone makes you flustered. Okay, how has he not had someone sweep him up yet?
You guys talk a bit more, explaining what you do for work. Yeosang tells you he’s an English professor at a university, and you say you’re a student. No biggie, it shouldn’t be an issue if he isn’t your professor, right? You continue to talk about random things, local news, favorite food places, random shit you’d usually talk about on a first date. Conversation flows naturally.
The alcohol hits you hard suddenly, making you bolder. You reach your hand towards him, tucking the strays behind his ear. “You know, I’m glad tonight turned out the way it did in the end.” You practically purr. He swallows, and you watch as his Adam’s Apple bobs up and down. “Is that so, sweet thing?” He smiles at you, grabbing your wrist. “Well, want to make it better? We could go to yours… or mine… or get a hotel for the night?” He whispers in your ear, moving to kiss your hand.
Eyes widened, it was now your turn to swallow thickly. Your heart has now leapt into your throat, feeling as if you could just cough it out. “Y-yes, Yeosang. I’d love that,” he smiles, petting your head. Slamming cash down on the counter and grabbing your hand to scurry out of the bar and into some kind of bed to get you out of your clothes and around his throbbing cock.
Right outside the restaurant, he pins you to the concrete wall and smashes his lips to yours. “Fuck it, we’ll get a hotel for the night. Need you right now.” He nips at your lips, neck, and ears, soothing the sting with his tongue and sealing it with kisses. Your legs widen, all you can do is sit there and take it.
“Y-Yeosang…” you whimper, head falling back. He grips your chin, and deep brown eyes stare into yours. “It’s Mr. Kang tonight, baby,” he growls, kissing you roughly once more. “By the way…” he says between kisses. “I should let you know, I’m married. But we have an open relationship, and I’m clean. Is that okay?” Pulling away and looking into your eyes, you nod, not even caring anymore. You’ll face the repercussions of your actions later, but right now, you need him so bad it hurts.
“Yes, Mr Kang. It’s okay,” you reply, kissing him in a way that makes him grip your hips. Tongue’s fighting for dominance before he wins. Gripping your jaw once more, he pulls away, and before you can protest, he spits in your mouth. “Swallow it, jagi.” He commands. You follow orders and show him. “Good girl…” he smiles darkly, grabbing your hand, and you both practically sprint to the hotel next door.
Once inside the room, he pins you to the door, lips immediately back on yours. But now he can do what he wants to you, nothing holding him back. Knee sliding between your legs, pressing against your soaked center, causing you to choke back a moan. “P-please, Mr. Kang, don’t tease me!” You whine, looking into those beautiful chocolate eyes. Gods, his wife or husband is so fucking lucky, open relationship or not. Getting to come home to this ethereal being every night must be a dream.
He hums, faking thoughts. “Hmm, why shouldn’t I, baby? You let a stranger take you back to a hotel room. Shouldn’t you know better, darling?” He grazed the band of your panties, snapping it on your hips. “Well? Use your words, you’re a big girl”
Your skin feels like it’s on fire, like you could combust on the spot. Trembling, you answer “y-yes, sir, I should know better! I’m sorry, sir!” You whine as he dips the tips of his fingers in, teasing your folds by rubbing them lightly but taking them back out.
“What am I gonna do with you then, hm?” He pouted. God, that fucking pout. You’d do anything he asked you to with that look.
“I don’t know, Mr. Kang…” you whispered, suddenly embarrassed. He hummed, fingers tilting your head up by your chin before speaking, “How about get on your knees and beg for forgiveness?” He pecked your lips, a surprisingly sweet gesture for a stranger. Your knees were weak, almost falling over. You nod, sliding down the door and onto your knees. He smiles to himself, walking to the couch in the room. Spreading his legs, he beckons you over. “Crawl to me, jagi.”
‘Holy fuck!!’ Your mind is screaming a thousand things at once, yet you follow orders. You crawl. You actually did it. The sight of you on all fours, your skirt riding up to show more of your thighs, makes him harder than he thought was ever possible. “Fuck, you look so good like this,” he mutters, biting his lip. As you reach him, you grab his knees. He grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing you closer. “Now, be a good girl and take my pants off.” he shoves you off, allowing your hands to reach his belt and undo it, fingers trembling as you undo the button and zip quickly. He lifts his lip to allow you to shove his pants down his legs.
“Good girl, you listen well,” he says lowly, patting your head. “I’m gonna need you to show me how skilled that mouth is. Can you do that for me, baby?” Your eyes close. Taking a deep breath, you answer. “Yes, Mr. Kang.”
Opening your mouth, the tip slides in. Licking and sucking just that, teasing him with light strokes. He pulls you up by your hair, looking right into your eyes. “Don’t fucking tease me, whore.” He spits at you, pushing your head back down to his groin, his pubes tickling your nose. “Suck it bitch, and be sure to thank me when I cum down that throat.” He commands as you take the length down your throat.
The stretch burns, but oh, it feels good. His thrusts are rough, cock sliding down the tunnel as your eyes roll back. Spit and tears drip down your face and chin. You look into his eyes, he catches them, and groans. You already look so fucked out, and he hasn't even fucking touched you. How will you react when he finally gets his hands on you?
You stroke what doesn’t fit, playing with his balls and massaging them softly. He groans, head falling to the side, eyeing half open, and staring at you. Finally letting you take over, he swallows thickly. You lick and suck like your life depends on it, panties completely soaked and sticking to your core.
“Fuuuck, princess,” he groaned. “Who taught you to suck cock? You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around me, you know that?” His eyes stay on you, suddenly making you shy, but your chest fills with pride. “Such a good cock slut…” he says more to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. You choke, gagging on him at those words. Blush rising to your cheeks, body feeling so hot you swear you could melt. His grip on your hair tightens, his thrusts getting sloppy.
“Fuck, I’m about to cum. Keep sucking it, bitch. I’m gonna feed you my load.” He grits, holding your head down as he uses your throat as his personal toy. Nails digging into his thighs, leaving marks down them as his release fills your throat. Salty, but not awful tasting. Fuck, you could get addicted to his taste. “Swallow it.” He stares at you, waiting. You do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out as proof. “Thank you, Mr. Kang.” You smile, practically purring the words out. He grins, patting your head. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? You do anything I’d ask, hm?” He tilts his head, smirking. “Yes, sir. I would.”
“Good, then strip.” He says, matter-of-factly, pushing you off of him. “Wanna taste that sweet cunt before I fuck you until you cry.” Your eyes widen, scrambling to get up and kick your shoes off. You pull your ripped jeans and shirt off, leaving you in just your undergarments. Frustrated, he stomps towards you. “Are you really that dumb? Can’t undress yourself? Stupid fucking whore.” He spits, unclasping your bra and throwing it somewhere on the floor. He shoves you to the bed, ripping your panties off.
“Hey, what the fuck?!” You snap, he just shoves the fabric in his pocket. “As if you’ll need them,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes and kneeling to the ground in front of you. “Be as loud as you want, sweetheart. Let me hear how broken I make you feel.” Licking a single stripe up your pussy, you suck in a breath. “Fuck, please,” you whine, reaching your hands into his hair. He just pins them to the bed, lifting his head. “Don’t touch me unless I say you can, do you understand? Or do I need to restrain them with my belt?”
Retracting your hands, dripping the duvet instead. “N-no, Mr. Kang, I’ll be good,” you muttered. He smiles, returning to your pussy. He licks up the slit again, making you whine. Sticking his long fingers inside you, thrusting them to accommodate the stretch. “Fuck, you’re so tight, princess. Are we sure my cock will fit inside?” he coos, faux pout on his face. He thrusts them faster, adding a third, moving to lick and suck at your pussy. He flicks your clit with his thumb, a gasp falling from your lips as he moves to suck on your click. You cry out, white-knuckling the sheets.
“Please, Mr. Kang! Let me touch you,” you whine. “No, behave,” he says against your pussy. A wave of please moving through your body, causing you to shudder. You lift your hips, chasing his lips as he continues to lick, suck, and nip your pussy and thighs. He slams them down, using his opposite arm to pin you down. “I said to behave, you whore. You can’t even follow simple directions?” He tsks, sucking at your clit harder. Your thighs close around his head, causing him to groan. Legs shaking, fingers fucking you faster.
“C-can I cum? Please, Mr. Kang?” you whine, voice getting louder. “Please..” you whine. He groans, fingers continuously grazing your cervix, he starts ‘come hither’ motion on that spongey spot inside you. “Fuuck, squeezing my fingers so tight. Cum on them, bitch. Show me how well I get you off with just my fingers.”
Your body shakes, voice going up an octave as you cream around those long fingers. “Mr. Kang, fuck! That felt so good.” You cry, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know it did. You looked so pretty, creaming for me.” He chuckles, you pan,t closing your eyes. When you open them again, you see he’s hard again. He climbs on the bed, hovering over you.
“Ready for my cock, jagi?” He hums, “I’m ready to feel that pussy wrapped around me.” He smacks his cock on your sensitive pussy, making you gasp. He rubs the head up and down, teasing.
“Please…need you, daddy.” He groans, pushing in slowly. A sob rips from your throat, the stretch burning once more. “FUCK, MR. KANG!” you yelp, “so fucking big…” you cry, lip trembling. He curses, hips thrusting until you get used to his size. Your moans fuel his desire. He leans forward and throws your legs over his shoulders, pinning them to your chest. Hips snapping into yours, he slaps your ass. “Such a tight pussy, best I’ve had.. Promise you that” He groans, eyes rolling back. You pull him closer, nails raking down his back and leaving angry red marks. “Mr. Kang…” you whimper, his hand goes to your throat. “You’d still do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” You nod, afraid to speak. He thrusts harder, and you scream out. “P-please, Mr. Kang! You feel so good, sir! Need to feel you fill me, make me yours!” You sob, breathing becoming uneven.
“Squeezin’ me so tight, jagi. I dunno if I can’t last…” he grunts, thrusts, getting sloppy. His fingers move to your clit once more, rubbing the sensitive bud to get you closer to the edge. “Mmm, cum for me, darling. Cum for Mr. Kang.”
With those words, the band in your belly snaps. Coil unwinding as you gush around him. Cunt squeezing him tight as you splash against his abdomen and thighs. He groans, thrusting faster.
“Fuuuck, I’ve never had a squirter before. Maybe I’ll make you a regular plaything.” He chuckles, eyeing your teary face. “Gonna cum on that beautiful body, ready for me?”
You nod enthusiastically, “Please, Mr. Kang, give me your cum.” He pounds into you harder, getting sloppy again until he pulls out, using your slick to jerk himself off until he’s spilling onto your tummy. “Fuuuuck!” He groans, head thrown back. He collapses onto the bed next to you, gripping your jaw and turning your head toward his, and smashes your lips together. “I meant what I said, best pussy I’ve ever had,” he whispers in your ear, licking and nipping at your neck, leaving marks behind.
“Can I see you again, Mr. Kang?” you giggle, kisses getting ticklish. He laughs, you exchange numbers, shower with one more round, then get sent on your merry way. Little did you know, you’d see him the following day.
Summary : Felix likes looking at you, feeling you, watching you.
Dom!Felix, Sub!Reader , fingering, p in v sex, degredation, creampie, cum play,orgasms
Authors Note : Eeee!
Masterlist / Requests
──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────
He had been teasing you all day. Starting in the morning when he rolled over, placing light kisses along your neck while his hands snaked around your waist. Only to be interrupted by his phone alarm telling him he had to get ready.
Then the texts started. Simple I miss yous and I'm Im so bored as he worked in the studio. As the day went on, his tone changed. The messages turned from sweet to filthy, his words making your heart and cunt flutter.
I'm going to ruin you when I get home.
I can't stop thinking about your face when you cum.
I'm so hard, today needs to hurry up.
That last one was followed by a video, less than 30 seconds of Felix palming his cock through his pants. The outline of his erection was prominent, but you hoped for his sake he was alone.
When he came home, his lips smashed into yours, his hand tangling in your hair as he walked you back to the bedroom. It wasn't romantic, it was needy. The only time the kiss broke was for you both to remove your tops.
That's how you ended up here. Your legs spread, the cool air brushing your puffy pussy as Felix laid between your thighs. His fingers were tracing your slit lazily, depriving you of what you wanted most.
"Such a pretty pussy..." He murmured, his deep voice slightly muffled as he placed open kisses on your thighs.
"Please..." You sigh, squirming slightly, egging his fingers on. As suddenly as the touch came, he removed it.
"Don't move."
A silent nod was quickly cut off by a moan as Felix pressed two digits into you. Your slick coating them easily, his fingers brushed your walls. He began thrusting, watching your hole stretch around his fingers as he did a scissor motion.
"That's it, open that cunt for me." His eyes were dark and hooded as he laid between you, admiring your pussy as if it was a painting. He always loved to watch your body shake and listen to your whines and whimpers.
The edge is so close already. He's mixed the spreading of fingers inside you with a motion that brushes along the most sensitive spot inside you. He can tell, both by how your back is arching off the bed and how you're spasming on his fingers.
"Give it to me baby. I've got you." He Coos, and that snaps the band inside you. You cry out, gripping the sheets under you in an attempt to ground yourself. It felt so good, Felix fingering you while you submitted to his will. Your pants and whines increase as you come down from your high, smiling drunkily down at him.
Just as quick as he had you in this position, he climbed up your body, his cock laying against your waist. He was twitching, leaking precum onto your skin. You arch your hips up, eager for him to fill you once more.
"Please Felix." you whine as his lips trail down your neck. But your begging sounds so pretty, so desperate, and he can't keep teasing you like this. His hands grip your hips as he lines himself up, pushing himself deep into you in one thrust. The familiar stretch of your cunt aches, but in the best way. One groan into your shoulder and he's sitting back up, rocking his hips into you.
His eyes are fixated between your legs. Watching his cock fill you out, enough to where when he almost pulls out, you are stretched to the Hilt around his thick mushroom tip, earning a smile from him.
"Your pussy takes me so good baby... Fuck..."
He suddenly reaches behind your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and jerking you so you can watch with him. It's lewd and provocative, the way your arousal leaves a sticky web on his abs as he thrusts. His cock glistening with both your wetness and cream, the white pooling around him when he slams into you.
He's not really talking to you, more to your pussy as he says "Fucking take me. Look at the mess you're making. It's so filthy isn't it baby... My filthy little whore likes watching me use her cunt, hmm?" You nod as best you can with how tight he's holding your hair, your neck beginning to ache but being dulled by every thrust.
You're close, and so is he. His movements are erratic. He's let go of you, letting your head fall back to the pillow, keeping the view to himself. Your hips arch off the bed, begging for him to be closer, as if he wasn't balls deep inside you.
One brutal thrust of his cock against your cervix is all it takes. Your eyes roll back in your head as you ride out your high. One glance at Felix tells you he's enjoying the view and feeling of your pussy coming undone.
"Fuck yeah, give me it baby. Shit.." He didn't finish his thought,his hips locking as he buried himself as deep as he could. He's twitching inside you, rope after rope covering your insides with his seed. Felix collapses on top of you, both of you sweaty and panting.
You attempt to move from under him, but he stops you, pulling his softening cock from your pussy. "Wait." His deep voice reverberates in your ear as he slides down your body. Kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed, resting his head on his hands, his eyes are narrowed. He almost looks innocent like this. You sit up, propping yourself on your elbows.
"Push it out for me." The request baffles you, but you oblige, flexing your cunt. It's messy and stretched, still sensitive from your orgasm. You sigh as you feel his seed leak from you, the sight making Felix lick his lips. It drips from you in thick globs,running down to your ass.
"Wanna make you a mommy, but fuck you look so pretty dripping my cum.." He sighs happily and comes back on the bed, laying next to you and pulling you to his chest. His heartbeat relaxes you, your body curling up against his. You both know you should shower, but in some taboo way, the mess between your legs is deemed okay for now. You knew he'd want to put on a show in the shower anyway, so you might as well rest while you can.
Summary : Hyunjin is busy playing with the boys, but you're needy...Whats a girl to do?
Dom!Hyunjin, Sub!Reader , F Masturbation, Blowjob, Cum swallowing, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism? , Handjob , slight degredation
Authors Note : The fact they dropped this video is insane, theres no way I couldnt write something
Masterlist / Requests
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
There was absolutely no question at this point, but just to be sure, you took a quick glance at your calendar. Your suspicions are confirmed both by the phone and the spasm between your legs. It was imperative that you kept track of your cycle, considering you and your boyfriend, Hyunjin, didn’t use protection. The pull out method hadn't failed you yet. But the High Fertility Day message sank your hopes almost immediately.
You could hear him in the other room, laughing with the rest of the group as they gamed together. That left you alone in the living room, squirming on the couch. The dull ache of your cunt wouldn’t let you focus on the show you mindlessly turned on. Instead, your hand mindlessly rests in your lap, your hips jutting slightly against it. It wasn’t enough to get you off, just enough to be aware of the growing damp spot on your shorts.
“Fuck it.” You murmured to yourself, your hand snaking under the fabric of your panties. Your fingers slipped easily between your soaked folds, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Deciding to change position, you prop one leg up on the couch, giving you easier access to your dripping hole. Two fingers slip in easily, your thrusts slow and lazy as Hyunjin's voice breaks through the fog of self pleasure. He was going on about something being unfair, but it didn’t matter the topic, his voice had you whimpering while curling your fingers against your walls.
But it wasn’t enough. Your fingers felt good, but you wanted more. The lewd sounds of your sloppy, stretched cunt was fighting against your boyfriend's voice, and it was then that you had an idea. In one swift motion, you removed your hand, standing off the couch and glancing at your fingers before wrapping your lips around them. They had a sticky web of your juices connecting them, earning a hum as you licked them clean. You quickly run to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and heading to join your boyfriend down the hall.
Hyunjin doesn't bother with a headset, opting to let the other boys' voices fill the room. It's loud already, but it doesn't compare to when you come into view of the camera. It's a flurry of excited greetings and yet they still manage to yell about whatever game it is they're playing. You offer your hellos, coming behind Hyunjin and wrapping your arms around him, setting the bottle on the desk.
“Figured you needed a drink” you said, kissing his cheek. It's met with a chorus of “oohs” by the other members. Hyunjin turns to you, meeting your gaze, and you desperately attempt to convey your lust, as silly as it sounds. It's a silent exchange, and quick.
He doesn't understand. He thanks you, turning back to the game.
This wasn't how this was supposed to go. The relentless pulse of your pussy between your legs is far too distracting and persistent. A quick glance at the camera confirms you are out of sight, and with your boyfriend locked on his game, you make a bold decision. Dropping to your knees, you crawl under his desk, pushing his legs so you have space.
“Wha-” He peeks under the table, his confusion being cut off by you holding a finger to your lips. Your hands run along his legs, desperate for any kind of physical contact from him. He's back to playing his game now, practically ignoring your advances. His jeans are betraying him, his cock beginning to bulge against them as your hand finally lands where you both want it most. Palming it firmly, you smile as he groans, only to attempt to cover it by coughing. The action goes unnoticed by everyone on the call.
Your core is aching at this point. After you can tell through the fabric that he's hard as a rock, you quickly undo his zipper, reaching into his pants and boxers. His warm length hums as you wrap your hand around it. Finally, you free it from his pants, sighing happily as his length stands at attention. A bead of precum is already dripping down his head and onto his shaft.
Your tongue darts out, collecting the salty bead on your tongue. Hyunjin's hips buck instinctively, searching for friction. A small giggle escapes your lips as you move down, placing open mouthed kisses along his cock. You hear his breath become shaky, and silently wonder if the others have noticed he has stopped commenting on the game. His cock is warm and throbbing against your lips, your tongue dragging a line up his thick shaft. He twitches against you when you finally open your mouth, enveloping the head of his cock with your warm mouth.
Your movements start slow, your tongue pressing firmly against him. Both of you know that's not enough though, and your head begins to move faster, his cock covered in your saliva. You're trying your best to keep it quiet, but you both know he prefers it messy. Drool starts to escape the corners of your mouth as your movements continue, meanwhile your hand sneaks between your legs, rubbing your puffy clit in small circles.
Hyunjin, however, is not holding onto composure very well. Every time you take him completely down your throat, he jerks his hips and lets out a groan. He’s doing well at disguising it though, reaching his arms up in a pretend stretch or drinking water to stifle the sound. The chat about the game now exclusively includes the other players.
“Dude, you good?” Lee Know asks after your cheeks hollow, the suction around Hyunjin's cock nearly driving him up the wall.
“Y-yeah, just tired…Dance practice was killer.” His voice is sultry and his words are slightly slurred. From your angle, you can look up and see his face through the desk. His eyes have glazed over, his lips parted and his jaw slack. You silently thank discord for its filtering of background noise, because the sight only leads you to speed up both your movements of your head and your finger against yourself.
The coil in your belly is tightening quickly, far more intensely than when you were previously touching yourself on the couch. Your free hand moves to his shaft, wrapping around the length you couldn't take. Between the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your hand and the pornographic sounds of his cock impaling your mouth, he’s beginning to become undone under you.
“Sh-Shit…” He whispers. “Guys, I'll be right back.” He haphazardly turns off the camera and microphone, pushing his chair away from the desk, dragging you with him. His hand winds tightly in your hair, and you finally get to lock eyes with him, tears pricking them as he thrusts up into you. You're no longer in control, your hand falling to your lap while the other continues the assault on your pussy.
“Such a slut…you couldn’t wait?” He questions, the moans he was holding in now filling the air. He’s throbbing in your mouth now, his head thrown back and his chest rising and falling quickly. The sight of him is what drives you over the edge, your moans vibrating his cock as you come undone. Gushing against the fabric of your shorts as you twitch, riding out your orgasm as he uses you.
His words are just strings of curses at this point between groans and the occasional whimper. The rhythm of his thrusts has been lost. Hyunjin is simply chasing his own high after watching you drive yourself over the edge. His hair sticks to his forehead as his hips stutter, forcing himself completely into you, your nose pressed against his groin.
Rope after rope of cum hit the back of your throat. “Thats it, take what daddy gives you…” It’s thick and seemingly endless, the motion of your swallowing milking his cock. When his legs stop shaking and his hips relax once more, you pull off his cock with a loud pop, smiling up at him.
You're a sight to see. Drool covers your chin and your cheeks are tear stained, but you're smiling nonetheless. He doesn’t care, leaning down and crashing his lips into yours. It's not sweet, it's wild and a mashing of tongue and teeth.
“I love you..” He smiles, intertwining your hands to help you stand. You repeat the admiration, squeezing his hand. As you move, his breath brushes the shell of your ear. “Wait in bed for me.” You smile back, nodding and brushing his hair slick back with your fingers. You both laugh, with you heading to the bedroom. His chair slides across the room, and you hear the familiar sound of discord audio turning back on.
“Hey guys, Imma go, y/n nee-”
“Daddy, huh?” The room erupts into laughter and Hyunjin's cheek burns red as he realizes that in his haste, he hadn’t truly muted himself.
Summary : Joong was tired. Tired of being in charge all the time. You know exactly how to help.
Sub! Hongjoong, Dom!Reader , P in V sex (Wrap it up), light bondage, overstimulation, handjob, use of "mommy"
Authors Note : THIS STUPID PHOTO THEY DROPPED TODAY! He looks so whiny I love it. Im nowhere near a dom myself though, so I'm unsure as to how good this is!
Masterlist / Requests
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
If anyone else could see Joong right now, they’d be in disbelief.
The positions you were in would be all wrong to the untrained eye. The Captain was sitting with his back to the headboard, wearing only his boxers that did nothing to hide his throbbing cock. If that wasn't the shocking part, it was the silk tied around his wrist and fisted in his hand, intricately attached to the bedposts. His posture was as if he was offering himself to you in a sacrifice, willing or not. Your slow pacing around the bed held his gaze, every step closer earning a hitch in his breath.
“My poor baby…It’s hard being in charge, isn't it?” You felt sympathy for him, you really did. Leading all those boys everyday, being the face of the group, it had to be hard. Even if it was all he wanted, it still brought him to the tipping point of a breakdown. That's when you had to step in. Normally, his stress would be taken out through a relentless pounding of your cunt, his hand holding your head down onto the mattress while the other grips you so tightly you’re certain you’ll have bruises in the morning. That was most nights after he had come home from the studio.
Then there are nights like tonight. His stumbling through the threshold, his puffy eyes from silently crying out of frustration, that's when you had to take over. Take the expectations everyone puts on him and shoulder them yourself. Every dark thought he had, every flicker of anger in his eyes, he was giving them to you. It wasn’t often, but it happened enough that there was a routine to it. He would come in, set his bag down and find you immediately. His energy completely zapped, all it took was the smallest nod for you to understand. Your hands intertwined and every wall he had put up, every mask he put on as he walked through the city everyday, fell away. He was no longer Captain, or a producer, or an idol. He was just Joong.
Sometimes you would lead him to the couch, or to the shower, but this time you chose the bedroom. There was a desperation about him today. Like he couldn't get into your control fast enough. His clothes ended up in a pile on the floor, the last piece of his daily costume shed away. The quickness of which he climbed into bed should be alarming, but instead it makes you laugh. The sound of your laugh brings a smile to his face, the first you'd seen since he came home.
There was no complexity about the restraints you used. They were the same he'd used on you a multitude of times. If he really wanted too, he could undo them with one pull, but he wouldn't dare. To give in like this was a privilege Joong only allowed himself once in a blue moon, and he was going to savour every moment.
When he's at your mercy, his face changes. His eyes soften, his pupils blown out. As you undress in front of him, agonizingly slow on purpose, his lips turn into a small pout. Every article you remove earns a bounce from his clothed shaft. Until you're completely bare, crawling into bed with him, his breath hitching as he drinks you in.
Words don't need to fill the silence as you straddle his lap, your slit lined up perfectly with the bulge in his boxers. Your bodies communicate enough as your hips begin to rock, a shiver running up your spine at the warmth between your legs. Hongjong's eyes are closed now, shuddering under your touch while his mind attempts to draw him back.
“Hey…" One harsh roll of your hips elicits a whimper from him. “Focus on me." The grinding of your wet folds onto his covered cock is a sight to see, his hips attempting to buck to meet your movements. The familiar burn builds in your core quickly and you lift yourself, unwilling to let go yet.
“Wh-Oh fuck…" His questions are cut off by you reaching down, quickly freeing his cock from the restraints. It bobs, precum already beading on his swollen tip. You tap his cheek. “Open."
And of course he does. Your fingers slide into his mouth, running along his tongue and cheek. His eyes linger on yours as you collect his drool onto your digits, only to remove them once he starts to appear to be enjoying himself. He whined again, and you shook your head. No words were needed.
Your wet hand wraps around his shaft, his hips nearly lifting off the bed if you weren't straddling him. Your strokes are slow and deliberate,tightening your grip around the end of his cock. He's warm in your hand, and your body reacts on instinct, your pussy clenching in search of him.
“Please… Ple-Please mommy…"
That nickname made you grin every time. At this point, the pool between your legs was becoming unbearable. His moans fill the room as you continue your tedious hand movements, your hand mimicking what he wants the most.
“Shhh…" The hand you were using to stroke him goes to his face, lightly covering his mouth. There's no pressure behind it, just shared knowledge of who's in control. Raising yourself, you use your other free hand to seat yourself on him, his thick cock stretching you as much as it did the first time.
He looks beautiful like this. Panting and whining into your palm, his eyebrow furrowed and his hands in tight fists. You scan his face, the way his eyes droop each time you raise your hips, only to take him fully once more. His brain was completely turned off, you could tell by the glaze in his eyes and the drool on your palm.
Your movements become faster and more deliberate, the bed creaking quietly under your passion. Your moans are louder than his, the only noises escaping from his lips being cries and whines. With both hands, you use his shoulders for leverage, tightening the coil building inside you.
It didn't take long. It never did like this.
He was having a hard time forming a sentence between his whines. “I'm-I….Please…C-cum…l-l….let me… “ It doesn't make sense, but you understand. You didn't like denying him, and he didn't like being denied.
“Cum for me." It's not soft. It's a command. Mixed in with moans and the sound of your ass smacking down against his thighs. Joong stiffens under you, groaning loudly as rope after rope is released inside your cunt. You can feel him throbbing, his hips still moving even though he's shuddering.
This was the part you enjoyed the most.
Your movements don't stop, they speed up. You're chasing your high now. Meanwhile, your boyfriend is becoming a mess of overstimulation. Tears fall down his cheeks as he watches you, his body betraying him as he hardens again inside you. Your walls squeeze his shaft harshly the closer you get, the soundtrack of his garbled pleas for mercy being drowned out by your moans.
You finally break. Your orgasm hits hard and fast. Your thighs stiffen as you fully seat yourself on his cock, throbbing around him. He's so sensitive, but you feel so good dreaming and gushing on his lap.
It forces another wave of pleasure through his body. Joong whines loudly as his eyes roll, his body attempting to fold in on itself as he fills you a second time. His restraints stop him from pulling away, allowing your lingering orgasm to milk him of every drop.
It's quiet. Just heavy breaths and sighs as you both collect yourself. There was no foreplay, not when he was so desperate to just forget everything stressing him out. For the first time of the night, you kiss him, brushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead. The kiss breaks and he looks up at you, his cock softening inside you as much as his eyes soften at the sight of you. He's flushed and fucked out, and you understand why he loves being in your position most nights, if he gets to see you like this.
The movements are slow as you undo the ties, confirming that just one tug would've undone everything. His arms immediately wrap around you, his head buried between your breasts. Your hand runs through his hair as you rock slightly, comforting him through the silence. Because that's what you were to each other. Comfort. And he knew that you were the safest place to shelf the overwhelming moments of his life. It didn't have to be said. You both knew.
Mingi is very good at pretending he’s normal about the way you flirt with clients for tips, about the way you touch other people for a living. The problem starts when he realizes you might not belong to him at all, and suddenly he’s pinned against the wall confessing feelings far too big to keep inside anymore.
Pairing: sub!Mingi x TattooArtistFem!Reader
Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pinning, Confession under pressure, Soft masculinity, “He’s so big but so soft for her”.
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, sub!mingi, sexual tension, sexual activity in a semi-public workspace, praise kink, dry humping, male orgasm, possessive thoughts, touch-starved behaviour, jealousy, mild choking, explicit language, alcohol, emotional dependency but make it hot
Word Count: 7.7k
a/n: this fic wouldn’t exist without a conversation with @darjeelinglemontea. it was just one thing she said, but it stuck with me and turned into this. thank you for that, i really hope you like where it ended up <3 also sorry for disappearing. i’m deep in a project and barely find time to write, but i needed to get this out anyway before vanishing again for a bit longer haha
masterlist
Your studio hums softly around you. Low music. Warm light. The familiar buzz of the tattoo machine steady in your hand like a second heartbeat.
Outside, the street beyond the front windows is already dark, neon signs reflecting faintly against the glass. Your last appointment of the night stretched later than planned, the rest of the building long since quiet.
The smell of antiseptic and ink clings to the air, clean but intimate in a way most places never are. People let you touch them here. Let you get close enough to hear the change in their breathing, to feel tension beneath their skin before they even notice it themselves.
You’ve always liked that part.
“Breathe out,” you murmur.
Your client obeys immediately.
He’s stretched beneath the lamp, shirt tossed somewhere behind him, skin warm under your hand where you steady him by the waist. The tattoo curves along his ribs in clean black lines, and you lean closer to finish a careful stroke, thumb pressing lightly into his side to keep him still.
He sucks in a sharp breath.
“There,” you say softly. “Relax.”
“You say that every five minutes.”
“And somehow you still trust me.”
He laughs under his breath, eyes dragging down to your mouth for a second too long. “Hard not to.”
You ignore that easily. You’ve heard versions of it a thousand times before. You wipe excess ink from his ribs.
His gaze flicks down to your hands again. “You always this nice to clients?”
“You’re paying me.”
“Could charge extra. I’d still come back.”
The bell above the studio door jingles softly. You don’t look up immediately. You know who walked in anyway. The heavy steps. The careless confidence of someone who’s been here enough times to stop asking permission for anything. The fridge opening.
“Beer tax,” Mingi calls from the back.
Your mouth curves before you can stop it.
“Get your own studio.”
“You’d miss me.”
You don’t answer. Because you would. Terribly.
Instead you lean closer to inspect the tattoo, fingers spreading against your client’s stomach as you stretch the skin carefully beneath the needle.
From behind you, the couch creaks, and you finally glance back at him.
Big hoodie. Work boots still on. Slouched deep into the couch cushions like he lives there. Watching you over the rim of the bottle with that lazy heavy-lidded stare that always does something unfortunate to your nervous system.
He comes here almost every night after work.
At first it had been accidental. Quick stops before heading home. Then takeout between appointments. Then sitting with you while you cleaned your station at midnight. Then coffee appearing beside your machine before you could ask for it.
Somewhere along the way, your studio started feeling wrong without him in it. Somewhere along the way, you started falling in love with him. Quietly. Stupidly.
Because Mingi is like this with everyone. Warm. Affectionate. Easy with touch. The kind of person who leans into you when he laughs and throws an arm around your shoulders without thinking. The kind of person who makes you feel chosen even when you probably aren’t.
So you buried it under routine and late-night beers and the hoodies he keeps leaving behind in your studio chair. Under the certainty that none of this would ever become more.
Your client shifts slightly beneath your hand. “You know,” he says, “if I met you somewhere else, I’d think you were flirting with me.”
You drag the needle into a clean line. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“I’m serious.” His smile turns crooked. “Soft voice. Hand on my waist. Eye contact. It’s confusing.”
“You came to a tattoo appointment.”
“Yeah, but you’re making it hard to stay professional.”
Mingi sets his beer down a little too hard against the table. You glance back automatically. He’s staring at the floor now, jaw tight for half a second before he notices you looking.
“What?” he says.
“Nothing.”
Your client looks between both of you once, then keeps talking. Unbothered. As if Mingi isn’t watching his every word.
“No, but seriously,” he says, looking at you again. “You’ve got dangerous energy.”
“Dangerous.”
“Yeah. Like you flirt for fun and ruin lives accidentally.”
You laugh softly through your nose.
But Mingi doesn’t. He should. He could. He usually does.
Instead his eyes keep lifting every time your hand settles against the client’s ribs. He goes quiet whenever the client calls you sweet. He keeps trying to insert himself into the conversation and failing to catch your attention the same way the client does.
And underneath all of it, something uncomfortable starts pulling tighter in his chest. Because the client gets your teasing. Your soft voice. Your hands all over him. And Mingi suddenly can’t stop wondering if that’s just who you are with everybody.
The rest of the session passes normally. Mostly. Your client keeps trying.
“You gonna miss me when I’m gone?”
You smooth the wrap carefully against his ribs. “I’ll think about you sometimes.”
“Damn. Sometimes?”
“Don’t get greedy.”
He laughs again, completely charmed by you in the way men always are.
And every time you touch him, Mingi notices. Not angry. Not even resentful. Just painfully aware. Like hearing your favorite song playing from somebody else’s car.
By the time the tattoo’s paid for, the studio feels strangely dense. Your client grabs his jacket, already backing toward the door.
“Same time next week?”
“We’ll see if you survive this one first.”
“I survived because you were gentle.”
Something shifts in Mingi’s jaw. The client notices immediately. A grin spreads slowly across his face.
“Tell your boyfriend thanks for the emotional support.”
The door closes before either of you can answer. Silence spills into the studio after him. The buzzing needle’s gone now. The music suddenly sounds louder. Slower.
From the corner of your eye, you catch Mingi pushing himself off the couch. He flips the sign on the front door to CLOSED before sliding the lock into place with a quiet click. Then he walks toward you.
You start cleaning your station, peeling off gloves and reaching for disinfectant.
Usually Mingi waits for you to drift back toward him naturally. Tonight he comes to you instead. You feel him before he speaks. Close enough that your body notices immediately.
“So,” you say lightly, wiping down the tattoo bed, “my boyfriend, huh?”
Mingi nearly chokes on his beer. You glance over just in time to catch the way his eyes widen above the bottle.
“He was joking,” he says too fast.
“You seem stressed for someone who’s definitely not my boyfriend.”
“I’m not stressed.”
You hum like you totally believe him.
Mingi reaches past you for the paper towels at the exact same moment you turn. His chest brushes your shoulder. Tiny contact. Barely anything. Still, his hand lands automatically at your waist to steady you.
Your stomach flips immediately.
Neither of you moves. Then his thumb shifts once against your side before he pulls away like he only just realized where his hand is.
“You were very attentive with him,” he says casually.
You glance sideways at him.
“It’s my job.”
“Hm.”
Not convinced.
He leans against the edge of the bed while you keep cleaning, entirely too close for someone pretending to be normal right now. His knee knocks yours once.
“You know,” he says, “I’ve been thinking about getting another tattoo.”
You snort softly. “You complain through every appointment.”
The answer slips out so easily you almost miss it. Almost.
Your mouth curls before you can stop it. That seems to make him realize he said it out loud, because he looks away immediately, rubbing at the back of his neck while you reach for the petroleum jelly beside him.
His hand catches your wrist first. Lightly. You freeze.
“There,” he murmurs, thumb brushing across the inside of your wrist. “Ink.”
Your breath catches a little stupidly.
Mingi has always touched you easily. Like affection is something that lives in his hands naturally. This doesn’t feel careless. This feels slow. Aware.
His thumb drags once more before he lets go. Neither of you pulls away right away.
“That guy was flirting with you.”
You tilt your head. “You think?”
Mingi gives you a flat look.
“He literally asked for your number.”
“And?”
“And you flirt back.”
You blink. “I don’t.”
“You absolutely do.”
That lands heavier than it should. Like he’s been holding onto it longer than just tonight. You turn fully toward him, arms folding loosely.
“Oh my god,” you say slowly. “You’re jealous.”
“No.”
Immediate. Too immediate.
“You are.”
“I’m really not.”
“But you don’t like it.”
“I don’t care.”
“You looked ready to bite through drywall because he called me dangerous.”
“That’s because he sounded ridiculous.”
You laugh before you can stop yourself. Mingi’s eyes narrow slightly.
“There,” he says immediately. “That.”
“What?”
“That. You do that with everybody.”
“Do what?”
“That—” He gestures vaguely at you. “That thing.”
You stare at him for two full seconds. Then burst out laughing. Mingi groans instantly, dragging both hands down his face.
“Forget I said anything.”
“No, no,” you say, stepping closer. “I want details. What thing?”
“I hate you.”
“That’s not very boyfriend of you.”
His head snaps up so fast it almost makes you grin.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Maybe you are. Because suddenly everything from tonight rearranges itself perfectly in your head. The hovering. The watching. The way he kept interrupting. The way his eyes tracked your hands every time you touched the client.
And now this.
Song Mingi, who walks through life like nothing rattles him, suddenly can’t even look at you properly.
You should let him recover. You don’t. Instead, you step closer. Slow enough that he notices. Close enough that his attention snaps back to you immediately.
Now there’s barely space left between you.
Your hand lifts automatically toward the silver chain half-hidden beneath the collar of his hoodie, the pendant twisted awkwardly into the fabric. You hook two fingers under it, easing it free, then straighten it against his chest. A small gesture. Almost domestic.
Your knuckles brush warm skin where the chain slips under his shirt.
Mingi freezes. Not dramatically. Just enough for you to feel it.
“You’re touchy today,” he says softly.
“You started it.”
“Did I?”
“Mhm.”
Your fingers trail once along the chain before falling away. He watches every second of it. Like your hands are speaking a language he’s trying desperately to translate before it disappears.
A reluctant smile threatens at the corner of his mouth again, weaker now. Distracted by the fact you’re still standing too close.
“How many clients leave here thinking you’re into them?”
You blink once. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious.” His jaw shifts faintly. “You look at people like that and then act surprised when they start falling in love with you.”
The sentence lands hard enough to knock the air slightly out of your lungs. Because he says it like an accusation. But underneath it, there’s something rawer. Softer. Something dangerously close to confession.
Your mouth twitches despite yourself. “It gets me better tips.”
“Right.” He glances away briefly. “Cool.” Then, quieter, “you flirt with me for free.”
Mingi’s eyes widen slightly like he physically felt the words leave his mouth and wants to grab them out of the air.
You blink once. Then tilt your head.
“…Do I?”
His ears turn red instantly. Actually red. And that’s new enough to make warmth bloom low in your stomach.
“I just mean,” he says quickly, taking half a step back, “you’re naturally like that. With everyone.”
“With everyone?”
“Yeah.”
You follow him when he steps back. Not enough to scare him. Just enough to make him realize you noticed.
“And you hate it?”
“No.” Too fast again. “I mean. Not hate. I just don’t like watching people flirt with you.”
The words slide warm and heavy into the room. Your heartbeat stumbles.
“Oh,” you say softly.
Mingi laughs once, humorless around the edges. “Yeah. Oh.”
Another step back from him. Another forward from you. The rhythm becomes almost absurd. Mingi retreating inch by inch while you slowly invade every space he gives up. Like he’s trying to survive this conversation and you’re trying to see how long until he breaks.
“I just think,” he says carefully, “most people don’t pay attention properly.”
“And you do.”
He hesitates. Then nods once. Small. Honest.
God.
The air suddenly feels too thick in your lungs.
“I know when you’re tired before you admit it,” he says quietly. “I know you pretend to hate sweet drinks but steal mine every time. I know you stop talking when something’s actually wrong.” His voice softens. “I know you hum when you tattoo.”
Your chest tightens painfully.
Mingi keeps talking now like he can’t stop once he’s started.
“I know which clients piss you off before they even sit down. I know you clean your station twice when you’re stressed. I know you act meaner when you’re embarrassed.”
Your lips twitch despite yourself.
“And I know,” he says, finally looking at you again, “that you flirt with people when you want them comfortable. But it doesn’t feel the same when you do it to me.”
The room goes quiet. Not empty. Heavy. Your heart is beating so hard now it almost feels embarrassing.
“Mingi…”
He keeps backing up as he talks. You keep moving forward. Until eventually his back brushes the wall near the hallway leading to the back room. Trapped. His breath catches slightly.
He tries to shift forward again on instinct. He can’t. Because you’re still there. Not crowding. Just close enough that the space he needs is gone. He’s actually stuck. Not metaphorically. Not dramatically. Just physically there, pinned between the wall and you.
His breath turns shallow.
And suddenly you realize he’s actually nervous. Not teasing nervous. Not playful nervous. Real nervous. Mingi, who flirts with strangers like breathing and walks through every room like he belongs there, is looking at you like one wrong sentence might crack him open completely.
The realization sends warmth blooming painfully through your chest.
“I think about you too much,” he blurts suddenly.
The words hang there between you. Honest. Unpolished. Mingi winces immediately after saying them like he regrets how revealing they sound. But he keeps going anyway.
“Like… an embarrassing amount, actually.” His eyes flick away again. “At work. On my way home. I see things and think you’d laugh at them. Or hate them. Or make fun of them for being ugly.”
Your lips twitch helplessly.
“And then you flirt with random guys in front of me and suddenly I’m sitting on your couch acting like a fucking psycho because some dude called your hands magic.”
The laugh that escapes you is soft. Warm. Fond enough to make his face flush deeper.
“I’m serious,” he mutters weakly.
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
That lands differently. The air shifts with it. Mingi swallows hard, debating whether to say the next thought out loud.
“I…” His voice catches briefly. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”
You stare at him for a second longer than necessary. Like you’re enjoying this more than you should.
“You said that out loud,” you murmur.
Mingi groans again, covering his face briefly. “I know.”
The words leave him too easily. You see the exact moment he realizes that. Mingi drops his hands from his face slowly, looking at you now with this exhausted kind of honesty that almost hurts to look at.
“And the worst part,” he says more quietly, “is that I don’t even think it’s just a crush anymore.”
Something deep in your chest folds in on itself. Because his voice changes in that sentence. Softer. Heavier. Deeper. Like he didn’t mean to admit that part out loud.
“I think…” He exhales shakily, eyes finally lifting fully to yours. “I think somewhere along the way you became the first person I look for everywhere.”
The room goes completely still. No music. No neon outside. No buzzing lights overhead. Just him, and the way he’s looking at you like he’s just handed you something fragile with both hands and doesn’t know what you’re going to do with it.
You should say something. You should probably breathe. Instead, you step closer. Slow enough that he notices immediately.
His eyes widen slightly. A flicker of confusion first. Then something sharper, like he’s just realized the distance is disappearing.
Your hand catches lightly in the strings of his hoodie, fingers curling there as you guide him back into the wall behind him. Not rough. Just certain.
The soft thud of it stops his breath for half a second. His shoulders hit first. Then stillness.
Mingi blinks up at you, wide-eyed now. Caught off guard in a way that makes him look younger, softer. Like his brain is a beat behind his body catching up to the fact that he’s not moving anymore.
Trapped, but gently so.
The realization flashes across his face in real time:
Oh.
Your hand stays at his chest, twisting the soft fabric once around your fingers. And for the first time since he walked into your studio tonight, Mingi has absolutely nothing left to hide behind.
No jokes. No easy grin. Just wide dark eyes and a pulse hammering visibly in his throat beneath your touch.
He stares at you like you’ve just pulled the floor out from under him.
“…You have to stop looking at me like that.”
His voice barely survives the sentence. Low. Rough around the edges. Like every nerve in his body is pulled too tight beneath your hands.
You tilt your head slightly, still twisting the drawstring between your fingers.
“Like what?”
Mingi shuts his eyes for one dangerous second. Like he physically can’t withstand this much of you at once. When he opens them again, there’s only helpless honesty bleeding through every crack.
“You know,” he says quietly.
“Explain it to me.”
A shaky breath leaves him.
“It’s just…” His eyes flick helplessly between yours. “You keep looking at me like you already know every stupid thing I’m trying to say before I say it.”
Your pulse stumbles.
“And it’s making me insane because I had this whole speech in my head on the drive here and now you’re standing this close and I can’t remember any of it anymore.”
A laugh threatens at the corner of your mouth.
“Mingi—”
“No, wait.” He shakes his head quickly, words starting to tumble out faster now. “I’m serious. I was gonna do this properly. I had actual thoughts. Like coherent ones.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” His ears are pink now. “And now all I can think about is your mouth.”
That almost breaks you immediately. Mingi realizes what he just admitted and groans softly, the back of his head nearly knocking against the wall behind him.
“See? This is exactly what I mean.”
“You’re doing great.”
“I’m literally not.”
You smile despite the violent rhythm of your heartbeat. Because this is what you’ve wanted for so long. Not perfection. Not some polished confession. Just him. Big hands flexing uselessly at his sides. Voice falling apart mid-sentence. Looking at you like wanting you has become unbearable to carry alone.
His eyes snap back to yours instantly. And that does it.
Because Mingi has always looked enormous next to you. Broad shoulders. Height that swallows space when he walks into a room. But right now? Right now he’s melting under your fingertips. And the realization floods through you like heat.
You step even closer. Until his breath catches against your mouth. Until the wall is the only thing keeping him upright.
“I just…” His voice catches again. “I really like you.”
The sentence lands between you soft and devastating. And suddenly kissing him feels less like a decision and more like instinct. So you do. Fast. Sudden. Like finally giving in to gravity after fighting it for months.
Mingi freezes instantly. A sharp inhale catches hard in his chest the second your lips touch his. For half a heartbeat he doesn’t move at all. Like his brain genuinely stopped working. Then his hands hit your waist. Hard. Not rough. Desperate.
A wrecked sound tears out of him somewhere between a gasp and a whimper as he melts forward into you all at once, like the kiss physically knocked the strength out of his body.
You kiss him harder immediately. Months of swallowed wanting snapping loose at once.
Mingi tries to follow too fast, too overwhelmed already, and his head knocks lightly against the wall behind him with a soft curse breathed straight into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he whispers against your lips.
You laugh softly into the kiss.
“You talk too much.”
“I was trying to…”
Another kiss cuts him off.
“I know.”
Mingi makes that sound again. That helpless little exhale that seems to punch straight through your ribs.
His hands finally settle at your hips, huge and shaky and warm through your clothes. Not controlling. Just holding on. Like he’s afraid this might disappear if he loosens his grip.
You pull back barely enough to look at him. His lips are flushed already, swollen and wet from your mouth. Eyes blown wide and dazed beneath messy dark hair.
He looks ruined. By a kiss.
The realization sends another pulse of heat straight through you.
“Mingi,” you whisper.
He visibly swallows. You brush your thumb against his jaw and he leans into it immediately without thinking. That almost undoes you.
“You don’t get it,” he says suddenly, breath uneven.
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t when you keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you want to eat me alive.”
You smile slightly. “Maybe I do.”
His entire body reacts. A shiver runs through him so obvious you feel it beneath your palms.
A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it.
Mingi’s forehead drops briefly against yours with a quiet groan, like even hearing you laugh right now is too much for him.
“You make everything worse,” he blurts suddenly.
You blink once. “Excuse me?”
“I mean good worse,” he says quickly. “Jesus Christ.”
His forehead bumps yours again, embarrassed.
“I’ll be fine all day. Totally normal. And then you smile at me once and suddenly I can’t think straight for hours.”
Your expression softens before you can stop it. Mingi notices immediately. You can see the exact second he realizes he said too much. But instead of retreating this time, he exhales shakily and lets his forehead stay pressed to yours.
“It’s not just this,” he says quietly. “It’s never just this with you.”
Your fingers loosen against his hoodie. The teasing drains out of you slowly, replaced by something warmer. Deeper. Aching.
“Then what is it?” you whisper.
Mingi’s eyes close. And for a moment he just breathes against you. Like he’s spent months holding this inside his chest and doesn’t know how to survive finally letting it out.
Then, barely above a murmur:
“It’s you.” Your heart stumbles violently. “It’s always been you.”
That one nearly steals your breath. You kiss him again before he can recover from saying it. Slower this time. Intentional. And he melts properly. No hesitation left now.
Mingi makes this quiet, wrecked sound into your mouth like the kiss physically knocks the air out of him. His hands tighten at your waist for a second before one of them slides higher, tentative at first. Like he’s not fully sure he’s allowed.
Your breath catches when his fingertips slip beneath the hem of your shirt at the small of your back. Warm skin against warm skin.
Mingi shudders immediately at the contact. You feel it happen under your hands.
The kiss breaks for half a second on his end, like his brain short-circuits from touching you there, but then he’s kissing you again instantly. Hungrier now. Still soft, still careful, but with this desperate edge underneath it that makes your pulse stumble hard.
His hand spreads slowly against your lower back beneath your shirt. Huge. Shaky. His fingertips drag upward inch by inch along your spine like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you through touch alone.
The sensation sends heat straight through your chest.
“Mingi,” you breathe against his mouth.
That sound almost ruins him. A helpless exhale leaves him as his forehead bumps yours briefly before he kisses you again, deeper this time. Like hearing his name in your voice just dissolved whatever restraint he had left.
He keeps touching you carefully. That’s the dangerous part. Not greedy. Not rough. Just unbearably attentive. His fingertips trace lightly along your spine again and your entire body reacts before you can stop it. You feel him notice immediately in the way his breath stutters into the kiss.
“Oh my god,” he whispers against your lips, sounding dazed. “You felt that.”
You hate how much your stomach flips at the shaky little note of wonder in his voice.
“Keep kissing me,” you murmur.
He obeys instantly. Like reflex. Like he’d do anything you asked right now.
Every sound you make wrecks him further. You can feel it happening in real time.
The little breathless noises he keeps losing into your mouth. The way his hand trembles slightly against your back every time you kiss him deeper. Every time you pull back half an inch, Mingi follows immediately like instinct. Like distance physically hurts now that he’s had you this close.
Your hands slide fully into his hair now, tugging lightly at the roots.
A shaky sound breaks out of him immediately. You feel it against your tongue.
“Fuck,” he whispers again, ruined already.
One of his hands stays spread beneath your shirt, warm against the center of your back. The other slides up suddenly, almost clumsy with urgency, until his fingers bury into the hair at the back of your head.
Then he kisses you deeper. Not confident this time. Needy. Like he can’t get close enough anymore.
Your breath catches softly against his mouth. One of your hands stays tangled in his hair while the other drifts slowly down his arm, fingertips tracing the hard curve of his bicep beneath his hoodie sleeve before sliding higher again. Over his shoulder. Around the back of his neck. Up along his jaw.
Mingi visibly shivers when your thumb brushes beneath his ear. You feel his hand flex hard against your spine beneath your shirt. Like he doesn’t know what to do with how badly he wants to touch you.
You kiss the corner of his mouth. His jaw. The warm skin beneath his ear.
Mingi’s head tips back against the wall automatically, exposing more of his throat with a helpless inhale that nearly destroys your composure entirely.
“There you are,” you murmur softly against his skin.
A wrecked sound leaves him immediately. Not even words anymore.
“You have any idea,” you breathe between kisses, “how hard this has been for me?”
Mingi goes still for half a second.
You pull back just enough to look at him. His lips are parted now. Eyes dark and blown wide beneath messy hair. Completely wrecked.
“I mean it.” Your forehead presses against his again. “You take care of me without even thinking about it. You show up every single time. You make every room feel safer just by walking into it.”
His hands are shaking now. Actually shaking.
“And you have been driving me insane for months,” you confess softly. “So don’t stand here acting shocked because I finally kissed you.”
A wrecked laugh breaks out of him, immediately swallowed by another desperate kiss.
Your mouths keep finding each other between breaths, between half-finished sentences, between tiny overwhelmed sounds neither of you can hide anymore.
Everything feels overheated and too close and slightly off balance.
Then suddenly his kiss falters. Not because he pulls away. Because his body gives out first. A rough breath punches out of him against your mouth as his knees buckle unexpectedly beneath him.
“Mingi—”
Your hands grab for him immediately, trying to steady him, but he’s already sliding down the wall in one overwhelmed motion, dragging you with him instinctively. One hand catches hard at your waist while the other slips from your hair, fumbling clumsily for balance that clearly no longer exists.
“Wait, wait—”
A helpless laugh breaks out of him mid-collapse.
Your knees hit the hardwood on either side of his thighs as he lands heavily against the wall with a stunned exhale. Boots scraping awkwardly against the floorboards. Long limbs everywhere at once. Completely uncoordinated now.
For one messy second, neither of you knows where to put your bodies.
Then stillness.
Mingi’s chest heaves beneath you. Your brows knit immediately. Concern flashes through you first.
“Min?”
He shakes his head once quickly. Not hurt. Just catastrophically overwhelmed.
You can see it everywhere. The violent flush spread down his throat. The dazed look in his eyes. The way his hand is still under your shirt like he forgot it was there entirely.
And something about it feels almost surreal. Song Mingi. All sharp height and broad shoulders and effortless confidence. Reduced to this because you kissed him.
“…Did your legs just give out?”
“No,” he says immediately.
“They literally folded.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re on the floor.”
“So are you.”
The comeback would land better if he wasn’t staring up at you like he’s moments away from short-circuiting completely.
And then you feel it. The thick, hard press of him beneath the dark denim where you landed directly on his lap. Heavy and unmistakable, pressing right up between your legs through your clothes. Fuck. He feels as big as he carries himself, maybe bigger.
Your breath catches slightly. Mingi notices instantly. A mortified sound leaves him.
“Don’t start,” he says quickly.
You look back up slowly. “…Start what?”
“That face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you realize things.”
Your mouth twitches immediately. His throat bobs hard.
You feel his fingers flex under your shirt instinctively before his nails drag lightly down your back in one slow scrape that makes your entire body jolt.
Fuck.
Mingi notices that too. His eyes darken immediately.
“I’m trying so hard to be normal right now,” he whispers.
The honesty of it nearly knocks the air out of you. Because he sounds wrecked. Not cocky. Not teasing. Just overwhelmed down to the bone. Still holding onto you like letting go would physically kill him.
Your eyes flick briefly to the way his hands are gripping you now. One spread hot against your spine beneath your shirt. The other tight on your waist. Strong enough to leave bruises. Shaking anyway.
Something hot curls low in your stomach at the sight. You can feel the strength coiled in him, the way he could easily lift you, pin you, take control if he wanted to. But he doesn't. He just looks up at you like he’s dying from how much he wants you.
When your hips shift experimentally against his, his reaction is immediate. A broken sound tears out of his throat as his head falls back toward the wall.
Your hand catches it before it can hit too hard, fingers tightening at the base of his neck as you cushion the impact instinctively.
Mingi melts instantly beneath your touch. His eyes squeeze shut for one second as your fingers tighten slightly in his hair. His grip spasms hard against your waist.
You bite your lip, suppressing your own sounds at the way he reacts so fast, so visibly, like every nerve in his body is wired directly into your hands.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, almost fascinated now. “I broke you.”
"Shut up," he breathes instantly, voice cracking.
Your laugh brushes warm against his mouth. Mingi’s eyes open again immediately, locking onto you like he’s afraid to miss a second of this.
And suddenly your concern dissolves into something hotter. Because he looks huge beneath you. Broad chest rising hard beneath his hoodie. Big hands gripping your body like he can’t stop himself. Thick thighs spread under yours. But none of that changes the fact he’s completely unraveling for you right now.
You tug his hair again, sharper this time. A wrecked sound punches out of him immediately.
“There he is,” you murmur softly. “My good boy.”
“Please don’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I already can’t think.”
His fingers scratch lightly down your spine again, rougher now, and the sensation shoots heat straight through your stomach. You feel him twitch between your legs, the pressure catching your clit perfectly even through denim, and you have to swallow your own moan down before it escapes.
You grin instead. Then you kiss him again.
And whatever control he had left finally snaps. His hand fists suddenly in your hair while he tilts your head enough to deepen the kiss properly. Sloppier. Hungrier. He kisses you like he can’t get enough oxygen from anywhere else.
You drag your mouth down his jaw, over his throat, and Mingi immediately tips his head back for you again with a helpless sound, exposing more skin like instinct.
His head knocks toward the wall once more and you catch him again automatically, palm sliding behind his head while your other hand stays around his shoulders.
“There,” you murmur against his throat. “Careful.”
That almost makes him whine.
Your teeth scrape lightly over his pulse. Mingi’s hips jerk up involuntarily beneath you.
“Fuck,” he chokes out, hands tightening hard enough to drag you fully against him. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
He sounds terrified.
Your forehead brushes his gently, breath mingling between you while his entire body trembles underneath yours.
You kiss him again, slower now, while your hips move in tiny experimental rolls against his. Barely anything. Just enough friction to make his breathing fall apart completely.
He’s concentrating so hard you can see it in his face. Jaw clenched. Brows pinched slightly. Trying desperately not to cum on the spot from just this. He tries to slow you once, but he fails instantly when you press closer and another helpless, broken moan slips out of him into your mouth.
Then he’s moving too, dragging desperate open-mouthed kisses down your neck like he doesn’t know where to put all this wanting anymore.
His hands slide lower.
One stays beneath your shirt, fingers tracing your spine again and again like he’s addicted to the feeling of your skin.
The other grips your ass hard, dragging you tighter against him while his mouth presses sloppy kisses against your throat.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers against your skin, voice wrecked beyond repair. "So fucking pretty, baby, look at you—"
You’ve never seen him like this before. Never seen him stop trying to perform strength. And maybe that’s why this feels so intimate it almost scares you. Because he’s letting you see every vulnerable part without fighting to hide them anymore.
“Mingi,” you murmur softly.
He looks at you immediately.
“You okay?”
A quick nod. Then, quieter, “don’t stop.”
Your thumb smooths gently across his cheek.
“I won’t.”
And that’s what finally breaks him open. You see it happen in real time. The exact second the last bit of distance leaves his face. The exact second he realizes this isn’t temporary. That you’re not going to pull away from him tomorrow and pretend none of this happened.
His forehead drops against your shoulder with a shaky exhale.
Then he kisses you again. Different this time. Slower. Still hungry, but softer around the edges, like he can’t decide whether to devour you or memorize you.
His hands roam more boldly now, your back, your waist, your hips, your ass, gripping like he keeps remembering he’s allowed to touch you like this.
Your knees ache against the hardwood, but you barely notice once he plants his boots against the floor and pulls you flush against him with one helpless pull of his hips.
The breath leaves both of you at once.
Suddenly there’s nowhere your body ends without running into his. Broad chest. Heavy thighs. Strong arms boxing you in, without feeling threatening for even a second.
That’s the thing that gets you. How big he is and how careful he still is with you anyway.
Your hand slides to his throat experimentally, fingers loose against his pulse. Mingi's eyes go dark instantly, pupils blown wide. He swallows against your palm. Breath catching hard enough you feel it against your mouth.
"Yeah?" you whisper.
He nods, fast and desperate. "Yes. Please."
The smallest increase in pressure tears a wrecked sound out of him, his head falling back against the wall. The sound goes straight between your legs.
After that, everything loses rhythm. Kisses turning sloppy. Breathing uneven. His hands gripping harder whenever you get too close.
His hips are thrusting up, rolling, seeking more friction, and you feel yourself getting wet just from the desperation in his movements. He's so hard it must hurt, straining against the denim, and when you grind down against him, he cries out, hands gripping your ass to try to make you move faster.
He realizes what he's doing halfway through and stills himself with visible effort, eyes squeezed shut like he’s trying to regain control.
“Wait,” he breathes roughly. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.”
The honesty of it sends heat curling low in your stomach.
And you're barely doing anything, but the fact that he's this close from almost nothing makes you want to feel him fall apart because he wants you that much.
You kiss him again, deep and filthy, and keep your movements light. Just small, teasing rolls of your hips.
"So pretty," he whines, "baby, you're so—fuck. Seriously. You're so beautiful, so hot, I can't—I can’t even look at you properly right now."
“You’re so cute,” you breathe against his mouth.
Your fingers slide softly through his hair again, gentler this time, scratching lightly at his scalp while his eyes flutter half-shut.
“That’s my pretty boy,” you whisper softly. “Trying so hard to hold it together.”
His face flushes deeper immediately.
“You’re doing so good for me, Min.”
That one finally ruins him.
His hips twitch up again, needy and involuntary, and you feel the damp heat spreading at the front of his jeans where he’s already leaking from almost nothing. The realization barely has time to settle before his whole body jolts beneath you.
A strangled grunt punches out of him.
His grip clamps hard around you so suddenly it knocks your balance backward. You catch yourself instinctively, palm slapping against the wall beside his head before either of you can crack into it.
Mingi goes tense all at once, hips stuttering up into yours before he buries his face instantly into your neck with a sharp gasp, biting down hard enough to muffle the wrecked sound that follows.
And then he’s coming. Fast. Sudden. Hard enough his whole body shudders under you.
For the first time all night, he stops holding himself back. His arms lock tight around you as he pushes himself off the wall just enough to drag you with him, forcing you to tilt back slightly in his grip while he shakes through it. Like he physically needs you closer to survive it.
Your arms loop around his neck automatically to steady both of you, one hand sliding into his hair, fingers spreading against the back of his head to keep him tucked against your throat while he rides it out.
You feel every pulse through the denim between you. The hot spread of wetness. The helpless way his body betrayed him from almost nothing except your mouth, your weight against him, your hand at his throat.
His hips jerk once more before he folds inward completely, trembling against your neck, breathing ragged through clenched teeth while he tries desperately to hide how easily he came.
Then nothing. No movement. No sound except his uneven breathing against your skin.
You blink once, heat rushing straight through you at what just happened. At how little it took. At how desperately his body gave in the second you told him what he wanted to hear.
“Mingi.”
A horrified groan muffles straight into your neck.
You bite back a laugh instantly. Not mean. Never mean. Just unbearably fond. Because this man. This man who walked in here trying to act normal about being in love with you is now actively attempting to fuse himself into your shoulder to avoid eye contact.
You shift slightly, trying to look at him. He follows immediately, burying himself deeper against your neck.
“Mingi,” you repeat, softer now, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Hey.”
A helpless smile spreads across your face as you press a kiss against his temple. He shudders under it instantly.
“Don’t look at me.”
That actually makes you laugh. Quiet and warm against his skin.
You coax his face back enough to look at him properly and nearly lose your mind all over again. Pink cheeks. Wet swollen lips. Eyes glassy and unfocused beneath messy hair. Completely wrecked.
And beneath you, you can still feel him, hot and sticky and probably uncomfortable as hell in his jeans, but making no move to fix it because that would mean acknowledging it.
“Shit,” he says immediately, mortified. “I’m sorry.”
That catches you off guard enough your expression softens instantly. Because he sounds embarrassed, yeah, but underneath it there’s sincerity too. Like he’s genuinely worried he ruined something.
“I was trying really hard not to cum,” he blurts, words tumbling out faster now that they’ve started. “I was trying to hold it together and then you kept kissing me and calling me pretty and I just—”
He cuts himself off with another groan, dragging a hand over his burning face.
“Min.” You wait until his eyes finally flick back to yours. “Why are you apologizing?”
His brows pull together slightly.
“…Because I came in my jeans like a teenager?”
You laugh softly. “And?”
“And we were literally just making out.”
You grin despite yourself, pulse still throbbing low and hot between your legs. Because honestly? The more you think about it, the more turned on you get.
Your hips shift unconsciously against him and Mingi sucks in a sharp breath immediately, eyes squeezing shut.
“Shit, sorry,” you murmur, fascinated. “Still sensitive?”
“Please have mercy on me.”
The shaky way he says it sends another pulse of heat straight through you. You lean in until your noses brush.
“You know this was hot, right?”
“That was hot to you? You’re not making fun of me?” he asks carefully.
Your heart actually aches a little.
“Mingi.” You brush your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’m trying very hard not to climb you again right now.”
“Oh my god.”
You kiss him again before he can get more embarrassed. Just a small one. Quick. Soft.
Mingi exhales into your mouth immediately, shoulders dropping another inch. There’s something dangerously addictive about it. Like the second you kissed him, his body decided hiding anything from you was impossible.
Your gaze drops again before you can stop it. Right between his legs. And right on cue, he shifts under you again and you feel it. Hard again. Twitching faintly beneath the damp denim. Still reacting to every little thing you do.
You pull back barely enough to look at him. “You’re kidding. You’re hard again?”
Mingi groans immediately. “Don’t say it out loud.”
Your laugh spills warm against his skin. He shivers hard at the sound. His hips shift unconsciously like he’s trying to relieve pressure and instantly regrets it when the denim drags against him.
Mingi must see something change in your face, because his breathing catches again immediately.
“Can you stop looking at me like you’re about to climb inside my ribcage?” he whispers.
You grin. “No.”
Mingi groans. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“…No. I really don’t.”
You laugh again and finally climb off his lap. Your knees ache faintly when you stand, but the sight in front of you almost takes you back out again.
Mingi looks ruined. Hoodie twisted crooked from your hands. Lips bitten red. Dark stain obvious across his jeans now no matter how he tries to angle himself away from it.
You bite your lip softly and hold your hand out toward him.
“C’mon.”
He blinks up at you. “…Where?”
Your smirk sharpens just slightly.
“You’re a mess,” you say, pointedly glancing at his lap before meeting his eyes again.
His face goes red all over again.
“Besides…” Your voice softens. “I don’t think I’m done with you yet.”
Mingi goes completely still. Then his fingers tighten around yours hard enough to feel it.
“Cool,” he says faintly. “Awesome. Great. Yeah,” he says quietly, standing now, towering close enough to steal the air from your lungs again. “You have no idea what you just started.”
Your stomach flips embarrassingly hard at the look on his face now.
“That sounds threatening.”
“It is.”
You open your mouth to answer, but Mingi kisses you first. Slow enough to distract you completely. Which is exactly why you don’t notice him crouching until the floor disappears beneath you.
“Wait, wha—”
A squeak bursts out of you as Mingi hooks an arm behind your legs and lifts you clean over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
“Mingi!”
He laughs against your startled noise as he playfully smacks your thigh before he starts walking toward the bathroom like carrying you around like this is the most natural thing in the world.
“Oh, now you’re shy?” he teases.
Heat rushes straight to your face. “Put me down.”
“No.”
He punctuates it with another slap against your ass that makes you gasp so loudly he nearly folds over laughing himself.
“You were talking real brave five minutes ago.”
You bury your burning face against the back of his hoodie while his laugh rumbles warm through your legs.
“You let me recover. Rookie mistake,” he says, opening the bathroom door. “You’re gonna regret giving me confidence.”
Summary : Your new friend at the local cafe after Joong has been gone on tour pisses him off. Maybe that was the goal this whole time.
Dom! Hongjoong /Sub! Reader , Degredation, oral sex (male recieving) , humiliation, name calling , facial
Authors Note : I was inspired by this specific photo!
Masterlist / Requests
⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆
“You’re delusional”
HongJoong scoffed as the front door finally unlatched, his jaw locking as he followed you inside. He didn’t live there, but he might as well have. The door closes behind him loudly, and you contemplate making a sneer remark about how that’s your door, not his.
“What the hell was that, y/n?!”
When you tried to walk towards the living room, his hand gripped your wrist tightly. The small touch sent goosebumps up your arms and you gave in, knowing that trying to pull your hand free was futile.
“Explain.”
Hongjoong had been gone for over a month on tour, the contact between you and him had been mediocre at best. It’s hard to be understanding when you are watching girls fall all over themselves through a concert livestream. His shows were normally followed by a short conversation followed by a promise to call the next day, which was never certain.
“You were gone…” As you begin your explanation, you realize how sad you sound, and how much you didn’t want him to see. Your voice hardens and raises slightly as you continue. “You were gone and I needed to get out of this house. I went there a lot. He was just a waiter who I got to know.”
You’d taken him to the cafe you’d began to frequent with his absence. It wasn’t anything special, most people passed it on their walks to work. That’s why it caught your attention. The menu was small, so you just ended up with a muffin and coffee every morning. Over time, your face became recognizable to the owners, and to their son, the waiter. It was innocent, just chats about the weather or what was on the agenda for the day. At one point it became so mundane you resorted to asking about the ratio of chocolate chips to muffin, and he laughed. He saw you, and regardless of your relationship, that felt good.
Taking Joong there was a mistake. Where you greeted your friend with a hug and a warm introduction, he only offered a cold handshake accompanied with the glare of a mad man. It didn’t seem to phase the waiter, who treated you the same as he always did. The only difference was the bitterness in the air as Joong pretended to enjoy his time. In reality, he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Once you were done, he jumped up, set down way too much money, and practically dragged you out to the car. He had a white knuckle grip on the wheel as he drove to your apartment, rejecting any sort of warmth you tried to offer.
Now you’re standing toe to toe with a man who was mad with jealousy. The problem here is that you enjoyed this. Seeing his anger, his passion, come through…It shouldn’t have done what it was doing to you. But you shifted on your feet anyway, a small motion Joong immediately noticed.
His laugh was sharp as he raised an eyebrow. “You like this, don’t you?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his lips were on yours, but this wasn’t a kiss. This was a mashing of teeth and your tongues twirling with each others, any sense of gentleness gone.
The kiss was dizzying, which made it all that much easier for Joong to force you to your knees. This was moving fast. Foreplay flew out the window as he expertly unfastened his belt. His clothing wasn’t hiding much, the bulge in his pants pressed tight enough to see the outline of his shaft.
“You like making me mad like this? Making me be rough with you?”
Your mind blanked as you watched his hands, unsure what to do with your own. Tentatively, you reach out to help as he unzips them, only to be smacked on the hand. You’re both too rushed to worry about pulling off his pants completely, simply getting them down enough to give access.
“Don’t touch me.”
His cock sprung free, bouncing in your face. It had been so long since you touched him, seen him like this. The sight of him sends a surge between your legs and you squeeze them together, unable to hide the shaky breath that escapes from your lips.
Gripping his shaft in his hand, you can’t help but notice the drop of arousal drip from the pink tip of his swollen cock. Watching him pump his member slowly in front of you was agonizing at this point. You’d forgotten why you were mad in the first place.
“Put your mouth to good work. I’m tired of hearing you pretend to be brainless while you flirt in front of me.” His pupils were blown wide as his hand fisted in your hair, pulling you to him. As if instinctual, your mouth opened and allowed the intrusion. A sharp hiss escaped his mouth as your warmth enveloped him.
“Fuck…missed this mouth…”
His hand in your hair guided you as you hummed around his length, his veins prominent against your tongue. The saltiness of his day mixed with his arousal was something you missed as well.
His movements were rough and quick, forcing your mouth onto his length. The air was full of the degrading sounds of your gagging, his groaning and the wet sounds of your mouth being impaled. It was dirty. It was embarrassing.
And you loved it.
Even worse?
He knew you did. He could tell by how you were gazing up at him, your eyes glazed over and a smile across your face.
“Thinkin’ you can just go out and-“ his sentence was cut short by a laugh. He was laughing at you. At how quickly you gave in. At how you were enjoying this, practically grinding yourself against the floor in a desperate search for any sort of friction. The laugh rang in your ears and sent a flush of disgust through you, and while it shouldn’t have, it caused a moan deep in your chest.
“You fucking whore, getting wet from getting your throat abused. Here-“ His foot moved, opening your legs and resting between them. “Want to act like a bitch? Hump my boot like one then.”
If anyone else had seen this sight, they’d be concerned. Your face covered in mascara and tears, his hand fisted in your hair, pulling at the roots slightly. The way he spoke to you should make you run. Instead, you begin rocking yourself against his boot, the toe sending a spark of pleasure to your core as it touches your clit through the fabric of your pants.
The pleasure was building quickly for both of you. It had been too long. His cock was throbbing in your mouth as he forced into you, your nose shoved against his groin. Your tears came quicker now, drool covering your chin as he thrust into you.
One arm anchored around his calf for leverage as you grind down onto him. Gripping him desperately, the one ounce of control he gave you being diminished to the shaking hand trying desperately to hold onto him. As your movements grow quicker, the coil in your belly tightens, your moans being stifled. He knew you too well. His foot quickly withdrew, leaving you aching.
His thrusts become sloppy and out of rythm, only giving you a moment before he pulls himself from your mouth with a pop. A string of saliva connects your lips to his tip.
His laughter cuts through you again. “Desperate fucking puppy, aren’t you?” His hand pumped his length quickly now, right above your face. It was embarked how quick he could bring you to this, and that’s why he loved it so much. “Pathetic little thing, you think your waiter friend is going to use you like this?”
When you don’t answer, your eyes droopy and completely transfixed on him, he snaps you back to reality with a hard smack to your cheek.
“Answer me.”
“N-no…I…No, he can’t…” Stuttering was hard at this point. But this answer seemed to please him, earning a groan as he went back to manipulating himself above your face. His hips were thrusting his cock into his hand, your spit acting as lube.
His movements stalled and you winced as his cock erupted without warning, spurts of his seed covering your cheeks and lips. His hand didn’t stop though, milking himself onto your skin. With a shudder, he reached down, gathering his seed onto his fingers.
“Give me a color.” Joongs words suddenly became gentle, and he smiled at you. In that moment, you knew why you let him break you like this.
Because you trusted him.
“Green.”
The flash of warmth was gone as he pushed his cum covered fingers past your lips, to the back of your throat, forcing you to gag. A sinister smile crossed his face as he watched you struggle. His cock still standing at attention.
Summary : Gov Ball is finally here, and you wish you could be more excited for your boyfriend and his group. But the lack of attention, and the lack of reaction from Hyunjin has pushed you to the limit.
Dom! Hyunjin/Sub! Reader , Degredation, p in v sex , slight exhibitionism, cum swapping , name calling , man handling
Authors Note : I was inspired by this specific gif!
Masterlist / Requests
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
The crowd is deafening , drowning out the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest. The adrenaline doesn’t suddenly appear when you step out on stage. It starts the morning of, when the phone is blowing up with text messages and social media tags. Then continues with the team of people surrounding you, their hands on you as they get you presentable. The excitement blooms into nerves the closer it gets to stage time. Until it all implodes when you walk out together as a group.
That's how Hyunjin had described preparing for a show when you asked him. He always made it seem like such a positive thing, even though you could sense his stress. He always tried to keep the mask on, not letting anyone outside see what he was truly feeling. But you could sense it. The pattern was always the same. About a week before an event, he would stay up late, recording his dance moves only so he could critique himself. Practice lasted nearly all day, ending with him stumbling through the front door, sweaty and sore. A quick kiss followed by a shower, then back to his work. He hadn’t touched you in weeks. It was like a ghost was haunting the halls of your home, always there but never truly there. Hyunjin left it back at the studio, bringing home a shell focused on his art.
Now you’re backstage at Gov Ball, watching from the side as Chan gave the group a last minute pep talk. They all clapped and the dancers made their appearance on the screen, the boys following behind. Hyunjin quickly pulled you to him, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. It didn’t last nearly as long as you wished, and in a moment he was back in line with the group. As he went, you murmured. “I hope this is worth it.” You weren’t sure if he heard you.
He did, his head whipping back for a second with a raised eyebrow. Then they were on the screen, going to the stage, and the rockstar persona took over. That fire in his eyes came back. You made your way to the VIP area, standing near one of the security guards. You watched with your arms folded, jealous of the stage that got far more passion from him than you had in a long time. His moves were sharp and his voice was perfect. Fans were screaming around you, and yet they drowned out as he made his way to your end of the stage. He offered a smile, waving at the crowd behind you but keeping his eyes on yours. You didn’t return the gesture.
Then something changed. His eyes darkened, and his tongue swept across his lips. A shiver ran up your spine as his gaze turned into a slight glare. Anyone watching would've seen him keeping his persona of a cocky, arrogant star. But you knew better. This wasn’t him trying to impress fans, this was him being fed up with trying to impress you.
——
By the end of the show, that quick look he gave you was a distant memory in the sea of smiles. He did amazing, as he always did. Every move was precise and every note was on key. Even though the setlist was changed and you were practically rained out minutes after they took their final bow, there’s no question as to who the media would be talking about.
The conversation on the ride to the hotel was overtaken by the group. They were gushing about signs they saw in the crowd or expressing how much they wished Seungmin was with them. You snuck in a few words, but they were quickly drowned out in the excitement. It didn't seem to bother you though. The heavy rain on the car windows kept your attention on the drive.
After everyone got to the hotel and the exhaustion had set in, they all filed into their separate rooms. Obviously you and Hyunjin shared one, and you made sure you went in first, underwhelmed by the bland furnishings and colors. It wasn’t remarkable, but it was nice.
“Whats going on?” Hyunjin asks and you reply with a shrug. He’s closed the door and latched it, making his way to your side in a few quick strides. You could smell it on him. The smoke from the fireworks, the sweat, the rain. The mix was intoxicating, but you sighed instead, swallowing hard before you spoke.
“Where are you?”
“I’m right here?” He answers, tilting his head. This isn’t helping. You throw your hands up and start walking to the other side of the room. No destination in your steps, just away from his side.
“No, where are you? The you that I saw on stage. The passion and the life that you show every time.” Tears pricked your eyes and you curse internally as one escapes, but you hold your own, locking eyes with him.
“Why don’t you have that with me anymore? You don’t kiss me, you’re constantly gone, you haven’t touched me in so long… I love that you love your job, but don’t you love me too?” The volume of your voice lowers as you finish, but it didn’t have to. Hyunjin was on you before you could even finish, his lips crashing into yours. It was quick and harsh, earning a surprised squeak from your throat. His lips moved with yours, but you pull away when he tries to deepen it. He’s trying to push this under the rug.
Instead you stand your ground, raising your voice slightly. “Won’t you just fucking react? Give me something!” When his mouth opens and shuts repeatedly, you continue. “I just want you to want me, but you look at me like I’m as special as white bread!”
Hyunjin's eyes shift. It’s an exact replica of what you saw at the concert. They’re dark and seem to want to swallow you whole. Full of anger, lust and deep down, hurt.
His hand flies to your throat. It’s so quick it would make you fall back if his grip wasn’t tight enough. You hardly have a second to process before he’s walking you backwards, forcing you against the wall. It’s scary and yet you realize a small moan has escaped your lips as he leans down by your neck.
“Passion…Love…You think you’re not special?” A sick smile spreads across his lips as they press against your pulse. “You silly, stupid girl…” His accent is heavy, something that only happens when he loses control. And he hasn’t done that in months.
Your minds reeling as he nudges your legs apart with his knee. It’s undeniable at this point, he can feel your arousal against the fabric of his pants. One solid press is all it takes to elicit a quiet whimper from you as he moves his head away from your neck. His pupils are blown wide as he shakes your head, a sick grin on his lips.
“I don’t pay enough attention to you? That’s what this was? A cry for me to fuck you? Pathetic, don’t you think?” Too stunned to speak, you simply nod, keenly aware of his fingers tightening around your neck. Your hand wraps around his wrist, not to pull him away, but to ground yourself again.
Hyunjin's free hand moves to the hem of your shirt, yanking it down to expose your breasts. The sudden cold air hardens your nipples, making them all the more sensitive as his fingers toy with them. With one hand on your neck and the other manhandling your breasts, Hyunjin wasn’t paying attention to the bulge in his pants, or the wet spot of precum forming on the fabric. But you were, and the fixation you had on it was driving him wild.
“Don’t look at me. You think sluts get to see who’s fucking them?” He hisses. Instead of letting you answer, he removed both of his hands from your body, only to use them to turn you around and shove your front against the wall. At this point your mind was starting to forget left from right, dignified from embarrassment. It was all the same, as long as he was the one doing it.
Your body was on fire. The flush of your cheeks, the cold wall pressing against your breasts. The clenching of your cunt around nothing. This is how it used to be, that’s why you’d submit to him so easily. Both of you knew that with one word this would all stop. He removed your pants without unbuttoning them, letting them pool around your legs. Immediately his fingers slide between your folds, the wet sound hidden by the sudden moan rising from your throat. He continues like this, simply rubbing you, avoiding where you want him the most.
You can separate the sound of him unzipping his pants between your moans. He stopped touching you in favor of positioning you, kicking your legs apart and bringing your hands behind your back, holding them together. You were completely at his mercy at this point.
“Do.Not.Move.” He enunciates every word harshly before your vision goes white as he suddenly fills you to the hilt. You’d had his cock before, but it never fails to stretch you in all the right ways. Your walls flutter around him as he begins to thrust, emboldened by your shameless moans.
“F-fuck…you’re so tight baby..” Every word he said ended with a harsh move of his hips, making sure you would remember all of this in the morning. “This what you wanted? Daddy’s cock,hmm?”
“Yes!” You mewl between cries of pleasure. The sounds your cunt is making when he fills you is borderline pornographic. His moans mix with yours as your eyes shut, your mind going blank except for the pistoning of his length inside you. A quick yank of your hair brings you back to full attention. Somehow in the midst of everything, you'd been stripped completely bare, your clothes and Hyunjins in a pile on the floor.
“Focus baby. You’re close, aren’t you? C’mon, don’t shut down just yet.” Hyunjin loved when he used to fuck you brainless, and it wasn’t taking much time to bring you to that point. The quick pain of your hair brought to attention the warmth building in your core. It was building too fast, too hard, and you weren’t going to last long. “Shit, you’re creaming on my cock baby…” His words are filthy and mixed with groans as he brings you closer to the edge.
His hand lets go of yours in favor of reaching around you, rubbing your swollen clit in rhythmic circles with his thrusts. Your hands hit the wall, attempting to find something to hold on to. There’s nothing. Only he’s holding you up now. And that’s when you let go.
A guttural groan follows your pussy clamping down on Hyunjin's shaft, pulsing around him, trying to pull him in deeper. Your knees buckle and it’s painfully aware that if it wasn’t for him, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts slower but just as deep, making the pleasure last longer for both of you. The thought of someone else being on the other side of this wall crossed your mind. Was it one of the band members? You couldn’t remember…
Your breath is labored as he continues his merciless attack on your cervix, a smile across your face. This was what you wanted. His hands all over you, his attention all for you. When his thrusts become sloppy, you purposefully tighten yourself, earning a string of curse words as he buries himself to the hilt. A sharp pain hits as he bites your shoulder, definitely hard enough to leave a bruise, and his hips stutter as he spills rope after rope of cum into you.
The two of you stay like that for a while. Breathing together, his lips leaving pecks across your back. When he goes soft, you start to turn around. He pushes you back to your position, carefully keeping you in place.
“Wait…” His lips start trailing down your spine, sending shivers through your back. Your sleepy smile is plastered across your face as his head moves lower, your mind a completely blank slate of bliss.
Your knees shake as Hyunjin's lips are suddenly between your legs, his tongue lightly licking your clit. He knew you were sensitive, and it wasn’t his mission to overstimulate you right now. His hands spread your ass as you moaned quietly, giving him access to your well fucked hole. The sudden intrusion of his tongue swirling around inside you nearly brings you back to the brink of blinding pleasure.
Instead of continuing his motions, he gets off of his knees, standing behind you once more. You’re finally allowed to turn around, and you're met with less feral, less desperate eyes. They’re soft again, examining your face before he cups your face, kissing you deeply.
He opens your lips with his tongue, and this kiss feels different. You can’t recognize what you’re tasting , but it makes your stomach flutter.
Then it hits you. It’s his own cum. He was kissing you, your tongues mixing both his and your orgasm together after being inside you. The knowledge hits like a truck and you squirm against him, finally breaking the kiss to smile against his lips.
“I love you.” His words are breathless as his hand brushes your hair behind your ear, a welcome change to the harsh actions he was doing before. “And you’re right. I promise I’m yours.” You nod before giving him another quick kiss, followed by both of you giggling as he squeezes your hand.
“Let’s go get cleaned up? Then apologize to Felix, I think he was blowing my phone up…” Hyunjin's head jerks to the wall where you were just defiled and your eyes widen, a wave of embarrassment flooding through you.
“I-I don’t even know…how do you apologize…” You’re laughing between your thoughts, half out of sheer humiliation and half out of the comedic gold this would bring the group later.
“Eh, we'll figure it out.” Hyunjin is dragging you to the bath, chuckling at how speechless you’ve become. “Wanna add Han to our list of apologies? He’s on the other side of the bathroom walls.”
