namgyu (player 124) x fem! reader
summary: your younger brother minsu has always kept shitty friends but none worse than junkies thanos and namgyu. this time, namgyu makes his move on you.
warnings: 18+ content ahead including dubious consent, sniffing panties, very light knife play, bathroom sex, power imbalance, pet names, noona kink, dirty talk, degradation, praise, objectification, some pet play (?) (he makes reader crawl to him and calls her a mutt), fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex, and creampie. perv! namgyu, heavy use of “noona”, mentions of thanos x reader
a/n: soo i blacked out and this happened. it’s rlly unhinged. shoutout to my friend for suggesting he call her noona because now all i can think about is namgyu noona kink
The bass from the TV shakes through the floorboards, rattling the cheap wooden trim and humming up through your bare feet. Gunshots and explosions stutter in quick bursts over the speakers. The living room stinks of weed, boy-sweat, and leftover takeout souring in open containers.
Thanos slouches on the battered couch, one leg thrown over the other, smoke curling from the joint pinched between his fingers. His eyes are low and half-lidded as he tiredly smirks at the game on the TV.
“I said left. Left, my boy. You cross-eyed or what?”
Minsu, your younger brother, who’s curled on the floor by the coffee table, doesn’t answer. He grips the controller, trying to keep his fingers from shaking.
He’s always tense around Thanos and Namgyu, shrinking smaller with every word. Like he knows one wrong comment could get him mocked or worse.
Thanos laughs, slow and airy, the blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth now, the ember flaring with each chuckle as he cuts a glance your way—brief, but heavy.
“Can’t even blame you, bro. With your sister walking around with legs like that? I mean, shit, I’d be missin’ my shots too.”
Minsu stiffens, but he doesn’t dare look at you. “Shut up, Thanos.”
Thanos lifts both hands, grin crooked. “What? She’s hot as fuck.”
Through their banter, all you can notice is Namgyu.
Off to the side, he lets out a soft, amused scoff.
He’s sprawled on the floor beside the couch, leaning back on one elbow. His band tee rides up his ribs, showing a slice of pale skin dusted with freckles and faded bruises. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, the waistband dipping under sharp v-lines, revealing a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the cotton.
But he’s not playing the game.
You move quietly through the room, a glass of water cradled in your hand and suddenly your sleep clothes feel thinner than ever. An old white tank top hugs your chest, the cotton just sheer enough to show the shape of your nipples in the glow from the TV screen. Your pajama shorts are patterned with tiny Hello Kitty faces, cut short enough to bare nearly all the curve of your ass. No bra. No underwear. You hadn’t thought twice slipping them on…but now, under Namgyu’s stare, you suddenly feel naked.
Part of you wants to vanish, to escape the heat crawling up your neck, the vile things they say when they think you’re not really listening. You don’t want to hear it—don’t even want to know how your brother’s nasty friends look at you, how they talk about you like you’re just another thing to fuck—but something sick keeps you rooted in place for a second.
Maybe it’s the way Namgyu’s stare pins you down, slow and deliberate, like he’s already imagined the shape of your mouth around his dick countless times, like he’s cataloguing how your skin would taste beneath his tongue.
Or maybe it’s the soft metallic flick of his knife, over and over, in a rhythm that feels almost hypnotic. Or maybe it’s how Minsu just sits there, small and silent, knuckles white on the controller, too afraid to speak up.
You hate how they treat him.
How Thanos talks to him like he’s a child. How Namgyu never even bothers to hide the way he laughs when Minsu flinches. You’ve tried to bring it up before, to ask why he keeps letting them walk all over him.
But every time you mention it, Minsu shuts down. Gets defensive. Upset. “They’re just messing around,” he’ll mutter, face flushed, voice brittle. “It’s not a big deal.”
It is, though. You see it in his shoulders. The way he tenses. The way he won’t look anyone in the eye when they speak to him.
But he won’t let you fix it, so now you just watch as Namgyu’s gaze tracks you, unblinking. His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, the small switchblade in his hand flicking open and shut, the sound like a ticking time bomb counting down to your demise.
Slowly, he sets the small pocket knife down beside him on the carpet. Then, with a mocking glint in his eyes, Namgyu lifts both hands, curling his fingers into a circle and holds them over one eye like a fake telescope, twisting his wrists and squinting through it as he blatantly scopes out your chest and hips.
“She’s always strutting around, Minsu.” Namgyu murmurs, voice dipping into something low and taunting. “Practically begging someone to look. Bet it fucks you up, huh? Seein’ your own sister like that?”
Minsu’s voice cracks. “D-don’t talk about her.”
Namgyu doesn’t even glance at him. “Or what?” he says bitterly, licking the edge of his lower lip, eyes locked on you.
Heat rushes up your neck, your stomach twisting tight.
Before you can hear another word, you pivot and rush down the corridor, your heart pounding and your skin still burning beneath the weight of Namgyu’s stare.
By the time the game fades into background noise, you’re pacing in your room, the cold press of the water glass doing little to soothe the heat coiled in your chest. It’s not even the way Namgyu talked about you—low and mocking, too intimate for a casual joke—it’s the way he looked at you. That heavy, lingering stare. The way he mimed staring earlier, not bothering to hide how he pictured you. As if your body was nothing more than entertainment. A toy. Something meant to be ogled at and handled and ruined.
Your chest tightens. You want to be angry. Furious, even. But all you can think about is the way his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip, how lazy and possessive his stare felt. As if he already knew what you looked like underneath your stupid shorts. As if he’d played this scene out in his head a thousand times and tonight, he was just getting cocky about it.
You hate how your thighs press together as the warmth between them grows thick and shameful.
You hate how your skin still prickles where his eyes touched it. How much of you he’s gotten without ever laying a hand.
You should’ve said something. Done something.
Instead, you let him look. You stood there.
And now it feels like he knows what he does to you.
The water glass leaves a wet ring on your dresser as you set it down and creep toward your door, fingers curling around the handle. You ease it open and slip out into the hallway, hoping to make it to the bathroom undetected. Maybe splash cold water on your face. Maybe breathe.
You slam straight into someone’s chest and stumble back with a startled gasp.
He’s standing in the dim hallway light, shirt rumpled, eyes dark and blocking your path completely.
But that’s not what makes your stomach drop.
Dangling from his fingers is something soft and bright pink. Something unmistakably yours.
Your breath catches, mouth falling open as your cheeks flush in disbelief. “Namgyu, what the fuck?!”
Instead, a slow, filthy grin spreads across his face. He lifts the panties to his nose and inhales deep. His eyelids flutter, his nostrils flare, and a low, contented sound rumbles from the back of his throat—something close to a purr.
Heat explodes in your cheeks and your voice comes out in a harsh whisper. “Ew, you perv! Where the hell did you get those?!”
“Took ‘em after you showered yesterday.” he says casually. “Been driving myself insane thinking about how warm your pussy must’ve been to leave them smelling like that. I even thought about jerking off with them last night…but I figured I’d savor them first.”
He steps in close. You try to shrink back, but there’s nowhere to go. His knuckles brush the hem of your Hello Kitty shorts, fingers skimming your thigh. His gaze drops to your legs, then back up.
“You walk around like this, y’know.” he mutters. “All cute and clueless in these tiny shorts, acting like you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“You’re disgusting.” you snap.
He just laughs under his breath. “And you like it.”
You glare at him. “Give them back.”
Namgyu lifts the panties just out of reach. “What? Gonna cry to Minsu? Think he’s gonna come save his poor older sister? He barely says shit when I call him a fucking loser to his face. You think he’s gonna man up for you?”
Your stomach twists, the TV still blaring in the other room.
“Don’t act so shy now…you’ve been waiting for me to say something. Looking over your shoulder every time you bend over in front of me and pretending you don’t notice.”
“Stop!” you whisper. “Minsu will hear you—”
He huffs out a laugh. “So be quiet before I make you myself.” His hand drags slowly over your shorts, just enough for you to feel it—his palm grazing your cunt. He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering, “Bet you’ll beg me like a pathetic little whore when I finally play with this pussy too.”
Shame flashes hot across your skin, your breath catching as your thighs press together instinctively—too slow to stop the way your hips twitch toward his touch.
Before he can do anything else, you grab his wrist and yank him into the bathroom.
The second the latch closes, he’s on you again.
Namgyu slams you against the bathroom door, his mouth crashing down on yours—hot, messy, tasting like marijuana and something chemical that makes your head spin. You shove at his chest with both hands, but it’s like pushing a wall. He doesn’t move. Just groans into your mouth, frantic already,
“Get off—” you start, but then there’s suddenly cold steel at your chest.
Namgyu’s switchblade flashes up between you, the flat of it gliding slow beneath the hem of your tank top. His hand trembles—not from fear of hurting you, but from the strain of holding back. He’s wanted this too long. Needed it. The moment buzzes in his bones, filthy and inevitable.
“Shhh…” he coos, almost gentle. “Lemme see these perfect tits.”
The blade flicks, slicing your shirt straight up the middle.
You gasp as the fabric splits, peeling off your chest. The cold air hits your skin, goosebumps rising across your bare breasts. The knife clatters to the tile, forgotten, and then he’s on you—grabbing, hands rough and thumbing your nipples until you’re gasping despite yourself.
“Fuck,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, nuzzling, sniffing, “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”
His hand dives into your shorts, greedy and quick while the other still gropes one of your peaks.
He doesn’t even tease—just plunges his fingers down.
He finds your cunt warm and soaked.
“N-namgyu…” you whisper, dizzy. He smells like his musk and it drowns you.
He groans the second he feels you. His hips thrust forward instinctively, his hard cock pressing against you through his sweats. “This for me, noona?”
His voice cracks around the word. It sounds hungry, the honorific cutting through your haze. You flush instantly, and his smile widens.
“Ohh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he giggles, breathless.
“Y’like it when I call you noona?”
You whimper in response, and he twitches, eyes darkening as he kisses your jaw, again and again, murmuring sing-song between each brush of his lips, “Noona…noona…” His voice lingers on the syllables, almost lilting, half-mocking and half-adoring, like he’s testing the weight of it on his tongue—trying it out.
“I’ve never called you that before, have I?” he hums, sweet and cruel, dragging his fingers slow through your folds. “Noo~na.” he croons softly, almost to himself now.
“Shoulda known you’d go all dumb for it.”
He laughs under his breath, lips still brushing your skin.
“Didn’t see the point, Thought it was stupid. But if I knew you’d be shaking for me like this…?”
His voice dips, “I’d’ve said it the first day I met you.”
Your breath hitches, your hips twitching toward his hand without meaning to.
He notices. Of course he does.
His palm presses flat against your pussy, grinding slow and heavy. “Look at you,” he breathes, delighted. “Already falling apart for me.”
“F-fuck you.” you spit—but it’s weak, and his eyes visibly darken.
“Mouthy little bitch,” he sneers. “Don’t worry noona, I’ll shut you up.”
His hand slaps over your mouth, firm and fast.
Your moans die under his palm, strangled and soaked in heat. His fingers push into you, slick and deep, each piston into you angled to ruin. The cramped bathroom echoes with the obscene sound of your cunt sucking him in and out.
Namgyu groans, low and guttural, hips grinding against your front again, rutting into the soft curve of your lower belly. You try to twist away, shame prickling down your spine—but he crowds in tighter, pinning you between his chest and the door, breath hot and filthy against your cheek.
“C’monnn…be quiet for me, noona. Don’t want your baby brother hearin’ how much you love getting touched by someone younger than you, do you?”
Humiliation spreads under your skin and your eyes squeeze shut. You can hear it—the wet, obscene sound of him knuckle-deep in you, the way your hips stutter into his hand no matter how hard you try to hold still.
He feels it. The way you clench—and it only spurs him on. His grin presses against your cheek as his pace turns brutal, every thrust of his fingers knocking a breath from your lungs, until your knees buckle hard against the doorframe.
Then his voice lowers, turning mean again.
“Or maybe it’s not Minsu you’re worried about.”
Your breath hitches behind his palm. He leans in close, his nose grazing your temple.
“Maybe you want Thanos to see you like this.”
Your whole body jerks and you shake your head wildly, but it doesn’t matter.
“You don’t even know half of what he says about you,” Namgyu goes on, teeth clicking. “Think dude’s obsessed with your tits. Bet he’d shove you down on your knees and fuck ’em right there in front of your brother.”
A muffled sob punches from your throat, eyes wide, legs trembling beneath you.
Namgyu groans again, deeper, fucking his fingers into you with renewed force. “But you don’t want Thanos, right?” His voice splinters with need. “This pussy’s not for him.”
You whimper under his hand, hips jolting into his palm, betraying you.
“No—” you gasp against his fingers, barely audible.
He slows, keeps his fingers buried deep, grinding them with deliberate pressure. “No?” His breath is sharp against your ear. “Just for me then, huh?”
Your head slumps back against his shoulder, thighs shaking. Humiliation coils low in your gut—but your cunt squeezes around his fingers, so wet it sounds desperate.
He releases your mouth finally and seizes your lips in a rough, claiming kiss, tongue pushing deep, devouring every sound you make.
“Say it, noona.” he pants between kisses, voice unraveling. “Say it’s mine.”
Your lips part, gasping. Your voice cracks, broken. “It’s yours.”
Namgyu groans, shattered, the sound rasping from his throat. “Good fucking girl.”
“You gonna cum on my fingers?” You attempt to hold it back, but it’s already crashing over you—your thighs trembling as you let out sharp little gasps of pleasure. Your pussy flutters helplessly around him, right at the edge. Namgyu whispers in your ear, “Please, noona…be a good little slut and make a mess f’me.”
“Oh fuck—Namgyu!” Your orgasm hits hard—sharp and blinding—your pussy pulsing around his fingers with a filthy, wet suction that makes him groan deeply in his chest. Your hands slam against the door, nails scraping the wood as your hips twitch against it.
Namgyu pulls his fingers out slowly, relishing the slickness as it stretches in glistening strands. He brings them to his mouth, sucking one clean, eyes rolling back at the taste of you.
Before you can even recollect yourself, Namgyu seizes your wrist and yanks you down to the ground. You crash hard onto your knees, dazed, and he leans back against the tub’s edge, legs spread and sweatpants now pushed down past his hips. His cock is flushed and hard, glistening with the mess he created while teasing you, already twitching with anticipation. “Get that pretty little mouth on me, noona.”
“C’mere and show me how badly you want it.”
You gaze up at him—lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. His smirk twists cruelly as he sits back, his cock heavy in his fist.
“That’s it…now crawl to me.”
Heat floods your cheeks. Your thighs quiver as you drop down onto your hands and knees, slickness still dripping between them, knees squeaking against the cold tile. You inch forward slowly, your eyes fixed on his cock—his gaze locked onto you.
He strokes himself lazily as you move, enjoying the show. “Cute little noona. Crawling for my cock like a fucking mutt.”
You shoot him a look, lips tight. You hesitate just a second too long.
His smile fades, replaced by something darker. His fist knots in your hair, yanking your head forward.
You bare your teeth, but you do it—mouth wide, tongue out—and he slaps his cock against it, once, twice, wet and heavy.
“Fuuuck, there we go,” he pants, rocking his hips forward. “Just like that.”
You choke as he feeds more in—your throat tightening, drool spilling from the corners of your lips. He moves slow at first, savoring every inch until you gag around him. “Shit, you sound so good choking on it,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening. “You fucking love this don’t you?”
You moan, more in frustration than pleasure, your nails digging into his thighs. He tastes salty, like something you shouldn’t crave, but you arch towards him anyway, greedy.
“You’d let me cum on your face, wouldn’t you noona?” he pants, his cock twitching against your tongue. “Or right on your tongue…yeah, I just know you’d take it so well.”
You whimper, and he lets out a ragged moan, hips stuttering.
“W-was about to coat this pretty face,” he grits out, dragging you off his cock with a wet pop. You gasp, coughing, spit trailing from your lips. “But right now…”
He hauls you up, spins you, and lifts you onto the bathroom counter. He shoves your shorts down just far enough to make room, The porcelain biting into your bare ass. You yelp at the cold, and then again when his hands shove your thighs apart.
“This pussy’s still leaking,” he mutters, stroking himself once before dragging the swollen tip through your soaked folds. “I think you need a good dicking.”
You glare at him, breath ragged. “Just s-shut up and fuck me.”
“Fuck…don’t gotta tell me twice.”
He lines up and drives in—one brutal thrust to the base, splitting you open with a loud, wet slap.
You cry out, nails digging into the edge of the counter. The mirror behind you rattles.
His grip bruises your hips as he starts pounding into you—deep, rough, no rhythm, just raw need. Each thrust knocks you back, cunt gushing with every slap.
“You hear that?” he spits, breath catching. “Listen to that sloppy pussy—fuck, you were made for this.”
You sob into your arm, overwhelmed and aching, but your hips still chase his. It’s pathetic.
“Cockdrunk noona, stuffed like a whore on her own fucking sink.”
His hand slips between you, thumb finding your clit to rub it hard and ruthlessly. Sparks shoot through you, your body already trembling from the next orgasm building low in your gut.
“Say thank you, Namgyu,” he growls.
You shake your head and his grin turns feral.
“Fine. I’ll make you say it.” He thrusts into you harder, crueler, his thumb grinding down against your clit without mercy. Your body jerks with each snap of his hips, loud wet slaps echoing in the room as he fucks you through your resistance. You choke on a moan, teeth gritted, fingers clawing at anything you can reach.
He doesn’t let up. Just pounds into you, deep and brutal, your walls clenching around him with every thrust. He drags his cock out slowly—almost all the way—before slamming back in hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. Again. And again.
“Fucked stupid and still begging for more. look at you suck me in,” he hisses, watching your face twist in helpless pleasure. “You gonna cum again? Be a good little fuckdoll for me?”
You try, God, you try, but your body gives out first. your orgasm rips through you without warning, raw and violent, soaking his cock with a loud, messy gush. You scream, back arching, thighs shaking where he holds them open. Your cunt pulses hard around him, fluttering and clenching with every wave crashing through you.
“T-thank you, Namgyu…” you choke out, voice wrecked.
“That’s it. That’s fucking it,” Namgyu groans and slams in one last time, spilling inside you with a sharp curse. His cock pulses deep, stuffing you full.
He stays buried, panting against your neck, both of you trembling, skin sticky with sweat.
When he finally pulls out, he cums all over your pussy—thick, hot spurts painting your folds and leaking down onto the counter beneath you. His release drips from your swollen cunt in obscene trails, pooling messily.
“Can’t waste a drop,” he huffs, gaze locked on the mess. Then he grabs your bunched-up shorts and tugs them back up over your thighs, sealing it in. “Keep it in, noona.” Then a slow, filthy pat between your legs. “Want you to feel me on you.”
You look at him—glassy-eyed, ruined. “You’re sick.”
Before he can respond, Thanos’ voice drifts in from the hallway. “Yo, Namsu! You good in there?”
Namgyu’s cock twitches against your thigh as he leans in, teeth nipping at your earlobe.
“Go on, pretty. Answer him for me.”
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