✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧

❥ 𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓊𝓉, 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 ༘⋆₊ ⊹🔭๋࣭ ⭑｡˚ {CLOSED TEMPORARILY}

[dvrktvnnel]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ welcome to the dark side of the moon ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

🐺 ✧ 22 ✧ she/her ✧ daydreamer ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ✧₊⁺

{ masterlist } 🔮 { theories } { kinktober special } 🔮 { guidelines } 🔮 { about } 🔮 { taglist }

"i’ve spent so much time in the darkness, i’d forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is - corpse bride"

—❥ devoted to my vampire princess @vampzity <3

[dvrktvnnel]

hello! i know ive been on and off (mostly off) and i keep saying i’ll be back, but i’m going to be taking a break for a while😭 i dont want to leave anyone waiting, idk when i’ll be back but life just got a bit busy and i gotta lock in for a while

i’ll come back when i can tho !!!

[dvrktvnnel]

i swear i planned on posting a few stories but i got my ass whooped by a cold and now the flu, and i have my wisdom teeth coming out next week

once i get on top of all that though i do have some stories to post i PROMISE🙏

[guzhufuren]

Mingi appreciation post

[maho6any]

Talk to me Sweet

Neighbor!Song Mingi x F!Reader

summary: you lived a nice quiet life in your simple little apartment, one with little disturbances and plenty empty space to fill. then here comes the new neighbor, loud, annoying, and too hot for his own good to fill that space. and while he was positively irritating and not good for your sleep schedule, he certainly was… tempting.

warnings: enemies to lovers, loud obnoxious neighbors, mingi is an asshole in the beginning, banter, arguing, slight voyeurism, VOICE KINK, praise, oral(f!receiving), holding your hands while eating(good lord), teasing, masturbation, size kink, manhandling, on the counter, pet names(sweetheart, baby, slut, etc), taking off the condom(naughty!), he whimpers a little(everybody cheer), creampie, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 8.3k

notes: so i totaled my car a couple of days ago on my way to work. oops! the second half of kinktober might end up delayed while i get that all figured out but in the meantime take this filth. :3

tracklist: anything, attention, til dawn

Loud neighbors are a curse you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Unfortunately, somebody must have loathed you enough to curse you with the loudest one ever living right next door. 

You had been living in this apartment for about five years, a quiet, comfortable little space. Just enough room for you, and maybe if you ever had a friend over. But you were content by yourself. The apartment next to you had remained empty since before you moved in, and you relished it. It almost felt like you had the whole floor to yourself.

You had your normal routine: wake up in the early hours, have a coffee, and listen to a podcast. Get ready for work and be gone for 8 hours, then come back, have a drink, and relax in your bed reading a book or watching a show. Then drift off to sleep. Oh, it was lovely.

Well, recently, sleep hasn’t really been coming so easily. It started with what sounded like shuffling in the apartment next to you. You assumed maybe the landlord was fixing up a paint job or checking appliances to make sure they were still functional. So you barely gave it a second thought.

Then voices. You heard multiple discussions through the walls; you couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly it was they were talking about, but they certainly were there. Then, there was the moving truck. A U-Haul, clear as day, was parked a few spots down from your own vehicle, locked up and ready to be unloaded. It was at this point that you connected the dots and realized you would be getting a new neighbor.

You were a bit annoyed at the idea, but it wasn't like that apartment would stay empty forever; they’d eventually have to rent it out at some point. You were sure you’d get some calm, quiet neighbors who would be sure to respect your quiet life and your privacy.

Wishful thinking, as they call it.

After a few days, the U-Haul eventually disappeared, so you assumed they had finally moved all their stuff in. As you thought, ascending the stairs after another grueling day of work, there lay a black welcome mat in front of the door, signifying that the space was now occupied.

You had yet to come face to face with this mystery neighbor, and frankly, you wouldn’t mind keeping that way. You liked your life the way it was, void of people, simple with a set routine. A new possible relationship might disturb that peace, so you never bothered to introduce yourself. Now you felt like it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

The first night they had moved in, it was rather quiet. Some shuffling, a couple of bangs on the wall from what you could only assume came from adjusting furniture and unboxing their belongings. You brushed it off, only slightly struggling to find sleep that night. Then it progressed.

The loud telltale sign of a buzzing razor, groups of people chatting loudly and yelling over what must have been movies, video games, or something of the sort. Blaring bassy music on subwoofer speakers and your least favorite, the moaning.

Every few nights, the incessant moaning of some girl on the other side of the paper-thin walls drove you mad. The banging headboard against the walls, the broken “oh!'s" and “please!” and “don’t stop!” The few nights that you got peace, you prayed that by some magical means the moon would stay perched in the sky longer than normal, only to be awoken by that loud music in the early mornings before you dragged yourself out of bed for work.

Your sleep schedule had been severely tampered with, your lack of peace had made it hard for you to find the motivation to get things done, and it had gone on for months since they moved in. There was one week when the moaning had finally stopped, and for a while, you finally had peace. Yes, the music was still loud and the crowds of people still droned on, but you could easily fall asleep to that compared to the girls. Whoever was living there must have taken a break from whoever they were seeing, and you almost slipped a thank-you note under their door along with a ball gag.

Of course, that peace was short-lived, and soon enough, there was another girl, a different voice this time, calling out into the late night. You had no idea how these girls could be so loud. To give credit, it didn’t really sound like they were faking it; nonetheless, it was still annoying, and you wanted to cry. Not only did it make sleeping beyond impossible, but you were also further reminded that you had been out of the dating scene for years, and it almost made you wish you had someone to make you feel so good that you would disturb your neighbors.

The thin line your patience was hanging onto was damn near ready to snap when you decided that the best way to go about this, to initiate minimal contact with your rude neighbor, was to be just as loud as they were, to give them a taste of their own medicine.

So, early on a Saturday morning, a day you didn’t have to be at work. You rose with the sun and decided to get some early morning cleaning done. You propped up your speaker right against the wall you shared with the stranger, connected it to your phone, and blasted your playlist so loud it reached every room in the space.

Gathering your cleaning supplies, you tidied up as loudly as you could, mopping your wood floors with vigor, scrubbing the walls with the occasional elbow bump, slamming your cabinet doors every time you put a dish away. It was a bit fun to be annoying.

You moved from the back of your apartment up towards the front, as now you were basically rearranging your living room, sweeping the dust bunnies from under the couch, and decided you didn't like your coffee table by the recliner anymore. Just loud and obnoxious. You had been at it for hours, and you were a bit at odds about how revenge was the only thing that motivated you enough to deep-clean your entire home. Oh well.

Maybe you took it a little too far, because as you were pushing your coffee table across the floor, the legs screeched across the ground like a broken violin. You heard a knock on your door. Loud, irritated, heavy. BANG. BANG. BANG.

You stopped pushing the table, your music continuing to blare around the house as you waited in hopes that whoever was there would walk away. But then the knock came again, louder this time, damn near shaking your door on its hinges.

You couldn’t really ignore it, so with an exasperated sigh, you rubbed your eyes and made your way over to the door, twisting the knob and yanking it open.

“Can I help… you?” The person at the door had their fist poised up like they were getting ready to knock again, and at this moment, you wished you were better with people than you were, because when you laid eyes on him, all your coherent thoughts flew out the window. 

Black eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance, soft, lightly tanned skin with pink, plush lips that were pulled into a thin line. Long, messy black hair tousled around like he had just woken up with a few locks framed around his angular face. He was fucking huge, towering a few heads above you, clad in a compression black t-shirt and grey and blue plaid pajama pants, no shoes. He looked exhausted, displeased, and to your utter dismay, hot.

“Excuse me,” he started, and god, his voice was sinful. Deep and raspy, obviously tinged with sleep, syllables rolling off his tongue sweetly like they were dipped in liquid sugar, you could almost feel it in your chest. “You do know that it's seven in the morning, right?”

You swallowed, quickly gathering your composure so you could properly speak to this hunk of a man at your door. You looked down at your imaginary watch, tapping your wrist like it might have been broken.

“Uhhh, yeah, it seems like it.” You looked back up at him just in enough time to catch him rolling his eyes. “Very astute of you,” you said sweetly.

“Some of us are trying to sleep, y’know,” he replies, lifting a hand, gesturing to himself, face deadpan.

You paused, and your nostrils flared as you locked your gaze onto him, lips slightly parted as your brain was trying to register how unbelievable he was being right now. You must have been quiet for a hot minute because he lifted a hand to his cheek like he was trying to wipe something away.

“What, do I have something on my face?” he whispered, looking at his fingers to check if he got anything. “Did I drool or something-”

“You have to be kidding.” You finally say, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over your chest. “You’re saying that I’m being loud right now?”

The man looks around outside your door, then past your body into your apartment, then back at you. “Well, yeah, I think you’re the only one here, right?”

You were going to hit him.

“I can’t believe this.” You threw your hands up, chuckling to yourself as your neighbor watched with curiosity.

“Can’t believe wha-”

You interrupted him angrily. “I can’t believe you have the audacity to come over here and tell me I’m loud when every single night since you’ve moved in, your incessant racket 24/7 has made it nearly impossible for me to sleep, work, anything! It sounds like you're throwing parties over there. It's ridiculous! But as soon as I get up early– and on a fucking weekend of all days– to get some cleaning done, you decide to come banging on my door to tell me to keep it down?!”

“I didn’t mean-” he started, hands raised slightly to try and possibly de-escalate the situation. 

You raised a finger and glared at him. “I’m not finished! Not to mention whenever you have girls over! I might as well kiss the possibility of sleep goodbye! They’re so loud, can’t you tell them to shut up? Aren’t some girls into that! I didn’t know I was living next to a frat house. No matter what, these walls are thin, as you can finally tell, so have some courtesy and keep it down, will you?!”

When you finished your tangent, you looked up at him, frustrated, waiting for a response, only to be met with a sly grin and raised eyebrows like he found your tantrum amusing. He leaned his shoulder against your door frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

You let your eyes wander down to where the compression shirt perfectly contoured the dips and ridges of his toned stomach, but ripped your gaze away from them just as quickly to meet his eyes. Your music continued to drone loudly in the background as you stared each other down, waiting.

Then he spoke. “I can’t help it that they get a little loud, what am I supposed to do, fuck them bad?” 

You wished he hadn’t said anything at all. You took a deep breath. Clearly, you weren’t getting through to this guy. You sighed, smiling annoyedly as you took a step closer to him.

“What's your name?” You ask, teeth clenched.

“Mingi,” he drawls, tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip. “Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He smiles and reaches out a hand for you to shake, and in turn, you tell him your name, ignoring his attempt at familiarity.

“Believe me, the pleasure is all yours. Listen, do me a favor. Have you ever heard of a hotel? Headphones? Another person's place of residence?”

He only smiles wider, letting his hand fall to his side as he looks you over. “Sounds familiar.” He replies, voice laced with what could only be humor at your lack thereof.

“Great, happy for you. Maybe invest in those. Sooner rather than later. I’ve been putting up with your nonsense for the past couple of months, and I can only handle so much before I start thinking about killing people. So please? Do you mind?” The look on your face is pleading, in hopes that maybe he might attune to your less-than-difficult requests.

“Woohoo, a bit violent, arentcha?” Mingi laughs, stepping out of your door frame. “It was nice to meet you, neighbor. Let me know if you ever need help fixing holes in walls, cause by the sound of it, you’d think you're knocking them in with all that rough cleaning this morning.”

He didn’t even acknowledge your requests. You step out of your home and stare at him as he walks back to his own door, twisting the knob as he plants his feet on the welcome sign.

“C’mon, man, can you at least get some headphones?” you plead, watching as he walks into his door.

“I already got a pair,” he replies, and you can practically hear the smirk on his stupid handsome face. “I’ll see what I can do.” He shuts his door, locks it, and you are left alone.

That entire exchange felt like it led to nothing. You stepped back into your house, feeling more irritated than you already were, as you picked up your cleaning supplies to finish the last bit of chores, turning down your music, opting for a less aggressive cleaning session for the rest of the morning.

You were pleasantly surprised to have found that Mingi seemed to somewhat adhere to your requests for the rest of the day. No loud music, no people shouting over loud screens. Just the occasional shuffle and silence, and Saturdays were usually his loudest days. You were grateful, and the sliver of hope that you had finally gotten through to him made you feel a ton better.

You spent the evening working on some paperwork you didn’t finish in the office, a nice fall candle filling your home with the comforting smell of vanilla and pumpkin spice as you worked in silence, the muffled sound of rain pounding on your roof like TV static.

Your foot tapped against the wood floors rhythmically. It was well past 8 pm, about time for you to wrap up. That's when you heard voices.

One you recognized was Mingi and his bassy, low drawl, and then a girl. It sounded like they were talking at his front door. She sounded upset, and Mingi sounded like he couldn’t care less about her dismay. They argued for a few minutes, and eventually, you heard what sounded like a “screw you” from the girl before the door shut, and silence settled again.

You wondered what it was about, but eventually, you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore as you wrapped up your work. You closed your laptop, blew out your candle, and after a nourishing shower, made your way to your bed, snuggling under your sheets. You picked up the novel you were reading, switching on your bedside lamp and settling in to continue reading. The rain was relentless against your roof, providing a comforting white noise as you lost yourself in the novel.

A couple of hours of reading and you were about ready to switch off the lamp and retire to bed, grateful you didn’t have to worry about work in the morning. You clicked off your lamp and slipped the bookmark back into your book, setting it on your nightstand.

Just as you pulled your hand away from the book, darkness enveloped your room as you heard more shuffling opposite your wall. You ignored it, getting comfortable, and just as you were about to lie down and try to sleep.

“Mmm…” Deep, guttural. Heated. You froze your movements. Eyes widened as you tried to justify what you heard. 

Then more noises flowed through the wall to your poor ears.

“Shit… hah…” There was no mistaking it. And you hated how it went straight to your stomach. Lust-laced, heady, quiet moans from your neighbor's apartment. A slow, slick sound, rhythmic in nature as breaths heavy and open hit your ears like a truck. You didn’t dare move.

It wasn’t like the loud moans you normally heard from over-satisfied girls, no, this time it was him. Low and throaty groans, litting up in pitch at the end every so often, sharp inhales of breath, and sonorous purrs that were downright sinful. And the slick, wet sound, and you didn’t need to see anything to know exactly what he was doing.

You wanted to bang your head against the wall over and over again until your brain matter splattered on the ceiling. You had never heard him like this. Breathy. Desperate. Needy. You only ever heard the women; you guessed his noises were drowned out by their cries.

And you felt perverted, but you couldn’t help but strain your ears and listen. Because you wouldn’t say it to his face, but his voice was intoxicating, perfect to drown in. Your heart raced as you listened to him touch himself, the slick sounds of his stroking himself muffled but still heard. His moans would stutter now and then, like he was close but wasn’t allowing himself release. He would groan, heavy and deep, like it almost hurt, and you couldn't help it as your thighs clenched in response to his rich noises.

“Fuck me…” he moaned into the quiet of his room, and in that moment, you needed to get out before you did something you regretted. You crawled out of your bed, rushed to the kitchen, and poured yourself a cold glass of water. Taking a couple of big gulps, you sat on your living couch and sighed, closing your eyes as you waited for his little session to wrap up so you could go back to bed.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch. You awoke slowly on Sunday morning, groggily forcing your eyes open as you took in your space, realizing you spent the night on your couch. And you felt… surprisingly well rested.

 You sat up, lifting your arms and stretching your limbs before reaching for your phone to check the time. 

“One o’clock!” You nearly shouted in surprise. You had never been able to sleep this late. You were always awakened by Mingi’s racket, which now you noticed was silent. He really did take your advice to heart, somewhat.

You stood from the couch, your bare feet padding against your floors as you walked to your bathroom to freshen up, the rest from last night well needed after a long few months of jumbled sleep schedules and unpredictable behaviors from your previously anonymous neighbor.

And unfortunately, it was short-lived. The loud music was back up, seemingly even louder than ever before, groaning into the laundry you were folding as you nearly felt your walls shake from the bass. You thought he had actually listened to you, and the pattern was right back.

Shooting to your feet, you stomped to your door, swinging it open and marching to his. You stopped in front of it and, without hesitation, you pounded on the door with purpose.

The music continued, and he didn’t come to the door. So you pounded again, harder this time, in a similar fashion to the first time he knocked on yours.

Some rustling behind the door, and then it swung open, and there he stood. And god once again, you were not prepared.

Sporting a tight-fitted white tank top and some athletic shorts, dripping in sweat, his hair clung to his neck and his forehead, and he was breathing heavily. In his hand, he held a navy blue weight, and behind him lay a yoga mat with a few more weights of various sizes littered around the living room. He looked down at you, chest rising and falling with labored breaths, as drops of sweat fell off the ends of his hair and onto his tank top.

“Need something, neighbor?” He asks, voice sounded ragged, tired, worked. You ripped your eyes from his flushed face and stared at your feet; your words had died in your throat.

He leaned down in an attempt to come eye level with you, and you squeaked quietly and took a step back. Sensing your nervousness, Mingi grinned and rested the forearm that held the dumbbell against the top of his doorframe, his gaze sharp as he looked you over.

“The music?” you managed to muster, forcing your eyes to lock with his. Half-lidded and teasing, his eyebrow quirked up as he waited for you to say more. 

“Turn it down, maybe? I thought maybe you’d have listened to me by now, but it seems like you must have hit your head overnight and forgotten our conversation.”

Mingi shrugged. “I didn’t forget. I’m just doing my normal routine, just like you.” His tone was relaxed and lofty, and the urge to clock him in the throat was strong.

“You do know there’s a gym that's quite literally a 5-minute walk from here, right?” You snarked, crossing your arms, your previous nervousness gone as his all-natural talent of pissing you off immediately made you feel like you needed to put him in his place.

He loved how feisty you got with him. Mingi loves girls who bite back.

His smile only widened, “You do realize that spending stupid amounts of money for a gym membership is worthless compared to just working out at home, right?” Copying your tone, he waved the weight in your face, and you scoffed.

“I don’t care about you working out at home, that's fine by me. The music, however, is so fucking loud, Mingi. Care to turn it down a little? It's literally shaking my walls.” He didn’t respond at first, eyes roving over your body for a second.

He sighed and nodded. “Fine then. I’ll turn it down.” There was a glint in his eyes, like there was something else he wasn’t telling you, but you ignored it as just him being a pretentious ass. And of course, though, you had to push the envelope. You could never settle for bare minimum answers.

“What’s with this reluctance to being quiet with you? Can’t you just be like a normal person and just not be so loud all the time?”

It was Mingi’s turn to scoff, waving a hand at you. “I’m not even loud all the time, maybe you just have sensitive ears. Go to a concert, that’ll fix that hearing of yours in no time.”

You laugh incredulously, stepping further into his space. Mingi only leaned down further to be closer to your face, the look on his face antagonizing, challenging you.

“I don’t understand why I have to adjust to your noisy lifestyle just because I live next to you. I don’t care if you’re loud, maybe like, once a week, but every fucking day is unbearable.”

“And I don’t understand why I have to adjust to your library rules and walk around on eggshells because you can’t invest in some noise-cancelling headphones.” He leaned closer to your face, and at this point, your noses were inches away from touching. The heat radiated off his skin, and you could feel it all over you, but you ignored it, the rage bubbling under your skin your main priority at the moment.

“And I don’t understand why you have to jerk off so fucking loudly either!” 

It slipped out before you could think about what you were saying. You slapped a hand over your mouth and took a step back. Mingi’s face shifted from challenging to sheer shock, and then amusement. 

“Oh?” He drawled, and you could already see that sly grin creeping onto his face. “You were listening?”

You were quick to defend yourself. “I wasn’t listening. I heard it. Because you’re loud. Whatever! Turn the music down, I have a headache.” Retreating quickly, you rushed back to your door, swinging it open and slamming it closed once you were inside, heart racing. He wasn’t even embarrassed; he didn’t even care that you heard him. God, he was infuriating.

You lie down on your couch, sighing and draping an arm over your eyes tiredly. It was quiet; he had turned the music off completely. You let your shoulders relax and your mind unravel from that awkward exchange.

Then came the grunting. The strained counting. The exaggerated moaning and breathing as he began working out again, and then you realized why he smiled when you asked him to turn the music down. The music masked the labored, suggestive noises he made when he worked out. You wished he would turn the music back on, and you were sure now he was being extra loud just to get under your skin. And fuck it was working.

Absolutely infuriating.

You had your first guy over at your place in a long time, years probably. One of your coworkers asked you out for dinner, and you agreed simply because you had no reason to deny. It was good-looking, polite, and frankly, you had never put yourself out there in search of relationships in so long, you figured this would be the best way to ease yourself back into it.

It was a Friday night, after a nice dinner, just talking about nothing, he took you back to your place. He stood outside your front door with you, and you could tell by the way he was talking that he expected to come in with you.

You thought about it, like really thought about it. If you did and it didn’t work out, it would just be really awkward to see him back at work again. And at the same time, you hadn't been touched in so long, at this point, you were desperate for any kind of contact.

You ended up turning him away, making an excuse that you had plans in the morning and wanted to get adequate rest. He sounded a bit broken up about the rejection, but left without too much of a fuss, bidding you a goodnight. 

You sighed and shut your door, wondering if you should have just invited him in, but it was too late to think too hard about it now. You poured yourself a glass of pinot and sat at your kitchen table, sipping on it lightly and flipping through a magazine you had received in the mail.

You sulked in the quiet, the one night you wished maybe you had a little hustle and bustle happening in your home.

And then here comes your neighbor. This time it's a blender. A fucking blender. Comical. This was not the night you needed this shit. So you stood, slammed your glass on the countertop, and stomped back over to his place.

Determined in your steps, you stopped in front of his door and knocked, softer than last time, but hard enough that you didn't have to knock twice. He switched the blender off and walked to his door, opening it and looking down at you. 

Your mouth opened, closed, and your voice didn’t come. Every time you saw him, it's like all your words left your brain. Grey sweatpants, messy hair, a loose black tee. He was holding an empty shaker cup, and when you met his eyes, you swore you saw something different.

Sympathy?

He spoke first. “Do you… Do you want to come in?” His voice was gentle, inquisitive. You were taken aback at the invitation; the surprise must’ve been clear on your face, because he smiled softly.

“I overheard you and your date tonight. Thought maybe some company would do you some good.” You blinked a few times, and you were nodding slowly before words came back to you.

“Uh, sure. Thanks, Mingi.” Your voice was small, unsure. He stepped aside so you could walk inside. You stepped past him, your shoulder brushing the lower part of his chest as he welcomed you into his home. Of course, it looked just like yours, just decorated more to his tastes. Darker furniture, darker art on the walls, cluttered end tables by his couch, and workout equipment by the front window.

“You can sit wherever. I was just making myself a protein drink, sorry if the blender bothered you.” Awkwardly, you sat at one of the seats at his kitchen island, resting your elbows on the countertop.

“Yeah, I was coming over here to give you shit about it, actually.” You laughed softly, and so did Mingi.

“Sorry again.” He replies, but of course, he was smirking. You glared at him as he poured his smoothie into a cup, the muscles in his forearms flexing too deliciously for you to feel safe and composed around him.

“No, you’re not.” You bite back, crossing your legs underneath the island, stifling the weird feeling in your gut when you realize that his entire apartment smelled like him. You were in enemy territory.

“You’re right, I’m not.” He set the cup down and walked over to you, leaning over the island opposite you and staring at you. “Would you believe me if I said I did it to get you over here?”

“Should I believe that?” You responded, but your stomach did a weird flip at the notion that he had annoyed you just to get you to come over. “Seems like overkill when you could just knock on my door yourself.”

“Seems like a lot of work to me.” He quips, grinning prettily when you rolled your eyes at him. “So tell me, what was up with the guy? Did he give off serial killer vibes? Have his mom as his lockscreen? Oh! Or did he have a weird third nipple or something?”

Your mouth fell open, and you snorted. Mingi laughed at your reaction. “What? No. None of the above. He was just a coworker, and I just wasn't sure. Nothing crazy.”

Mingi nodded and hummed, pursing his lips in thought, tapping his fingers against the marble countertop. “Got it, got it. So what, have you got a criterion they have to meet?”

“No, Mingi, you’re awfully nosy. Can’t I just not be interested?”

“Of course you can, I’m not saying that. I was just wondering if you had some specific type or something.”

You laugh and teasingly reply, “What, wondering if you check off all the boxes?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Mingi kept his eyes locked with yours, and his face was far more serious, like he wasn’t playing games. You froze, pressing your lips into a thin line. Your next words came quietly.

“For real?”

Mingi didn’t say anything, didn’t nod or shake his head, just kept his eyes on you, like he was trying to read your expression, read your body, gauge your thoughts.

“Do you want me to be for real?” He simply asked, but his tone had lowered, quieter, thicker. Your fingers twitched against the countertop when you realized it was your move.

“Do you?” you ask him. Dancing around each other. Mingi moved from in front of you, with careful, purposeful steps. He was now standing behind where you sat. You kept your eyes forward as you felt his chest press against your shoulders.

The body heat poured off of him onto the skin of your back, his hands settled on either side of your waist, not quite holding, just touching.

“I do,” he spoke, his voice heavy right above your head, and you felt yourself shiver slightly. When you didn't pull away, the hands on your waist slid down, gripping this time, hooking on your hips and holding you there. “Pretty fucking badly.” That stupid voice of his, low and dangerous, so low you felt it travel like a livewire throughout your entire body, and you couldn't help but sigh.

He leaned down so his lips were hovering right by your ear. He was so close, his breath tickled the shell of your ear, and you felt your spine straighten. “I wanna know if you think I could satisfy you the way you want. The way you need.”

Unconsciously, you leaned back into him, and the hands on your hips tightened when he felt you move closer, fingers digging into your flesh. His lips moved from by your ear down to press against your shoulder, pressing a feather-light kiss against the side of your neck, testing.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he whispered against your skin, and you couldn’t help the quiet whimper that bubbled from you. “Do I meet your standards?”

Instead of responding, you moved. You stood from your seat and turned your body around so you were facing him. Quickly, you slid your hands around to cup the back of his neck and hurriedly pressed your lips to his. Mingi melted into you in no time, like he was impatient, as if he’d been waiting for this. For you.

His hands found purchase on your waist, and immediately he was lifting your body so you were sitting on the countertop, never pulling his lip from yours, devouring you in a kiss so deep, so hungry you’d think he’d die if pulled away from you.

Your fingers carded through the hair at the nape of his neck, craning your neck to kiss him deeper, let him consume you whole in his kitchen. His big palms roamed up your waist, down to caress the outside of your thighs. He gripped either one and slowly parted them, slotting his body between them to press closer to you.

His hands were back up, wrapping around the back of your neck and grinding his lower body between your spread legs, sighing into your mouth as your warmth seeped through his clothes.

“Fuck you’re so soft.” He moaned against your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and breathing against you like he couldn’t believe your taste. 

You gripped his hair harder, opening your mouth against his lips to beg. “Mingi, please….” You whined, arching your back and inching your hips closer to him. “Please touch me, please.”

“Of course, baby,” he purred against your lips, pulling back from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck, breathing heavily. He couldn’t keep his hands off your body, exploring every nook and cranny of your flesh, refusing to not touch you.

They landed on your pants, sliding them off your thighs and down your legs until they pooled on his kitchen floor. His hands gripped your now bare thighs, kneading the flesh, caressing the sensitive skin.

“Fuck… wanna eat you out.” He cooed, already trailing kisses down your body until he reached the bare skin of your thighs, and lowered to his knees below you. He hooked his hands around the back of your hips, pulling your body closer towards the edge of the counter.

Now knelt between your thighs, his hands rose and found both of yours, intertwining his fingers with yours and holding your hands down against the counter, restraining you from using your arms.

“Gonna make you cum with just my tongue.” He whispers against the soft skin of your inner thighs, a sinful promise. “Then I’m gonna bend you over and show you why it gets so loud over here at night.”

You whined when he pressed a wet kiss against your clothed cunt, letting his tongue fall from his mouth, and he licked a fat wet stripe over the cloth, his spit mixing with the wet spot you’d already made in them yourself.

Impatient to taste you, Mingi bit the waistband of your underwear and slid the flimsy fabric down your thighs with his teeth, letting go when they fell to the ground and hovering over your fluttering pussy.

“So pretty.” He mused, shouldering his way further between your thighs to spread you open more,  still keeping his fingers locked with yours. Pressing a soft kiss against your clit, he then opened his mouth over your cunt, letting a glob of his saliva slip down his thick tongue and land directly on your clit, before he began to devour you.

Ravenous, Mingi split your lips open with his tongue, dragging it through your spit-slick folds and humming loudly against you when your taste hit his tongue. 

The vibrations of his deep voice made your thighs clench around his head, but his broad shoulders kept them open for him as he licked and sucked like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

He groaned like it hurt, wrapping his soft plush lips around your sensitive clit, sucking, biting, swirling his tongue around it so perfectly you thought you might go insane.

His grip on your hands tightened like he was grounding himself, then dragging your hands up, guiding them to his hair. You felt as he pressed your fingers against his soft, messy hair, his hands slipping away and finding purchase on your thighs, holding them up and around his head.

“Hang on to me, baby.” He groaned into you, and the moan of satisfaction he let out when you gripped the hair at his scalp sent another gush of arousal between your thighs that Mingi was quick to drink up greedily. “Yeah— fuck, just like that, don’t let go.”

“Oh my god…” You cried, your head falling back as you let the feeling of his warm mouth wash over you, completely overwhelmed at how amazing it felt. How good he was at this.

“Feel good?” His eyes lifted to look at you, and from where you were, it almost looked like he was worshipping you, begging to taste you like you were his life source, and it made your brain go haywire.

“Feels so good.” You praised, and that seemed to spur him on further, burying his face deeper into you, nudging his nose against your clit, and sliding his tongue inside of you, and the pleasure was almost too much.

“Mingi…coming… holy shit.” He did not let up, only seeming to fuck you deeper on his tongue, the muscle so thick it nearly filled you up.

“Yes, fuck good girl. Cum on my face. Cum all over me, baby. Give it to me.” The fingers he was digging into your thighs slid upward to hold your lower waist, his thumbs pressing against your lower stomach, the pressure making your breath hitch and your vision flash white.

Before you knew it, you were cumming around Mingi’s tongue, voice breaking in a pathetic moan, thighs shaking around his head as he shook his head back and forth, helping you ride it out smoothly.

“That’s it, my pretty slut. Give me all of you, wanna taste every fucking bit of you.” Mingi finally pulled away, littering your inner thighs with slick wet kisses, his lips shiny from your arousal and dripping in your wetness.

When he rose from his knees, you immediately reached your hands out to pull him to your lips and kiss him, messy all teeth and tongue as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“C’mon.” He started, hooking his hand underneath your sticky thighs and lifting you off the counter, carrying you back down the hall and to his bedroom, kissing you all the way.

He set you down on the floor once you were by his bed, before flipping your body around and pressing you down against the edge of the bed. His hands slid up the expanse of your back, hooking beneath the hem of your shirt and sliding it up and off your body.

You heard him shuffle his clothes off behind you, and that’s when you felt it. Hot and heavy against your back, his cock lay against your lower back, pre-dripping from the tip and falling on your back.

You listened as you heard a drawer open, a wrapper rip, and then he slid the condom on with a suppressed groan. 

His hands gripped your hips as he maneuvered his body to slide his thick cock along your sticky slit, leaning his body over so he could press his lips against your shoulder blades, languidly kissing and dragging his tongue along the back of your neck.

“Fuck you smell so good.” He groaned into your hair as he continued to slide the length of him against your wet slit, the friction catching your clit every time he rolled his hips forward.

“Inside...” you whined, pressing your cheek against the sheets, Mingi’s lips pressing against the shell of your ear, his sweat-slick chest flush against your back. “Please, need you inside.”

“Inside?” He whispered in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. “My pretty baby wants me to fill her up?” He crooned, slipping his hips back so the tip of his dick barely pressed against your soaked entrance. His voice made your head fuzzy, so close and so intimate by your ear, your whole body shivered underneath him.

“Fuck, please… I want you inside me.” And he couldn’t wait any longer if he tried.

“Of course, beautiful.” He sank his teeth into the side of your throat, lolling his tongue over the bite as he began to sink his thick cock inside of you, so slowly, the stretch making your legs shake and your mouth fall open in surprise at how big he was. “Anything for you.”

He lifted his upper body so he could look down at where he slid inside of your pussy, moaning deeply at how you sucked him in eagerly, the slick that gushed between your thighs helping him glide in so easily it made him dizzy.

“Fuck baby…” he whined, careful as he slid out until just the tip sat inside before thrusting right back in, so deep, rolling his hips, perfectly grinding against that soft spot in your tummy that made you drool on his sheets.

“Oh my god.. so deep.” You whimpered into the mattress, feeling the heat of Mingi’s palms as one cupped around the back of your neck and pressed your face further into the bed while the other caressed the side of your waist as he began to roll his hips into you rhythmically, groaning into the space with every thrust as you sucked him back in every time he pulled his cock back.

“Mmm, yeah baby, you like that?” Mingi purred, admiring the slick sheen you had already begun to leave on his dick, with each deep-seated thrust he bullied into your pussy, grinning at each quiet, overstimulated whine that left your lips each time he hit that spot.

“You feel me in there?” He thrusted hard this time, and you nearly choked on your breath at the intensity of the feeling.

“I feel you…” You breathed out, fists gripping the sheets, loving the feeling of his big hand holding your head down and his cock stretching you out so good you were seeing stars.

Mingi picked up the rhythm, sliding the hand around your neck back down your spine before gripping the other side of your hips and beginning to take.

He began to pound you relentlessly, the tenderness of his touch now gone as he began to use your poor cunt like a toy, groaning each time you squeezed around him as he rutted against your G-spot like a man possessed.

“Fuck fuck fuck..! God baby, you feel so good. So fucking good around me.” You could only cry out as he used your body, each thrust sending your senses into overdrive as you found yourself tumbling towards another orgasm at record speed, Mingi having no trouble staying at the angle that made your thoughts fog.

“Fuck, Mingi, please. I need to feel you!” With all the strength you could muster, you reached your hand back to press against his lower stomach, urging him to stop.

He whined and stopped thrusting slowly, resorting to a deep, heavy grind in your pussy. “What’s wrong? What is it, baby?” He asked, barely holding himself back from continuing to pound you stupid into his sheets.

“Please. Take it off.” You cried out. And Mingi paused for a second. Silence shadowed both of your ragged breaths and fucked out whines.

And then you felt it. The way his cock twitched, and then jumped inside of you, nudging against your G-spot, making you weak in the knees.

“You want it raw?” He asked in near disbelief, his voice was so quiet you thought he was talking to himself. The grip on your hips was so tight you for sure thought it might bruise.

“Please..” you replied, voice broken as tears welled in your eyes.

Mingi thought he just might lose his fucking mind. You heard his breathing quicken, then the hands on your hips slid up your back, gripping your shoulders and massaging the area, and you knew then and there that you were done for.

“My little slut wants me to fuck her raw?” His tone switched, heavy, unbearably turned on. Full on feral.

He wasted no time. He slipped his cock out of you, the emptiness making you groan as you felt him grab your waist and flip your body over so you were lying on your side. With a satisfied groan, Mingi pulled the condom off his cock, throwing it off to the side as he situated himself behind your body. Pressing his chest to your back, sliding a hand to cup the underside of your thigh. He lifted your leg so he could press the head of his cock against your hole, pressing his lips against the heat of your neck, right beneath your ear.

Like it hurt for every second he wasn’t inside you, Mingi groaned with a satisfaction that made it seem he had cum right then and there as he slipped his cock right back inside of you. You could feel all of him now without the thin barrier of latex. Warm, pulsing, filling you with every inch of him.

He moaned loud and heavy below your ear, immediately fucking up into your pussy so hard you felt dizzy. Mingi was insatiable, the hand on your thigh spreading your leg open further while the other pressed against your lower stomach, letting you feel every slick inch of him pounding inside of you.

“Yeah, yeah, how's that baby? This better? Love when I’m fucking you raw and nasty? You— shit— want me to cum in this pussy and fill you up with me, sweetheart? Tell me that’s what you want.”

You nodded against him, moaning loudly, taking every purposeful stroke he gave you, the slick and wet sounds making your face hot and your cunt wetter.

“I want it.. please want you to cum inside me, Mingi.” He licked all over the side of your neck, kissing the veins in your throat and pressing ever harder against your stomach.

“Okay baby… yeah, I’m gonna give it to you. I’m gonna fill this pussy up and you’re gonna take it for me.”

You spasmed around him as your orgasm washed over you like a lethal wave, gripping him tight, Mingi’s hips stuttering, feeling you clench around him.

“Oh, there we go, what a good fucking girl cumming on my cock. So pretty when you fall apart for me.” Mingi whined into your ear as he felt his release building, his hip movements slowing to a sloppy rhythm, his voice dropping to a sultry, whimpering whisper as he pressed his plush lips right against your hot ears.

“I'm gonna cum for you, baby…” He murmured, panting quietly against your ear like he was in heat, squeezing your thigh and pressing harder against your stomach. And with a few last devastating thrusts, he slipped the hand on your stomach up to grip your chin.

Mingi turned your head so he could press his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth with a sinful, whiny moan as he came inside of you, rolling his hips to push it deeper into you, moaning and sighing into the wet kiss you shared.

He pulled from your lips with a heavy sigh, the thin string of saliva connecting you two snapping when he turned his head to look down at the mess between your legs.

“Fuck… look at the mess we made.” he groaned, watching attentively as he slipped his soaked cock out of you, you in turn sighing at the absence.

You were both suddenly startled when you heard a loud banging on the ceiling, nearly jumping out of your skin.

“Christ almighty, could you fuck any louder!!??” Whatever neighbor lived above Mingi, banging on his floor with a broom, angrily shouting at the two of you for how loud you were being.

You gasp and cover your mouth with your hands. “Oh my god, were we that loud?” Mingi laughed and kissed the side of your neck softly, smiling against your skin.

“I mean, you were pretty loud.” He teased, and you immediately turned to hit him.

“And whose fault is that?!” You exclaimed, glaring with embarrassment written all over your face. Mingi smiled harder and proudly puffed out his chest like he was getting ready to accept a gold medal.

“That would be mine.” He peppered your face with tons of gentle kisses, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Does this mean that you’ll stop blasting music so I can get some good sleep now?” You asked half seriously, half jokingly. Mingi only shrugged.

“If it means that you’ll keep coming over and seeing me, I think I’ll continue as previously planned.”

“Oh my god, just knock on my door like a normal person, please! Do not turn your blender on every time you want to see me. I swear to god I’ll move out.”

Mingi pouted and kissed your throat. “You wouldn’t.” He softly murmured, giving you the most pathetic puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Stop using kitchen appliances and subwoofer speakers as mating calls, and maybe I won’t.”

Mingi grinned and kissed your shoulder, getting up and running to the bathroom to grab a rag. 

“No promises!” He winked, and you sighed as he leaned down to get you cleaned up.

So much for a peaceful lifestyle.

[yungistiny]

scream

[ J. Yunho + S. Mingi ]

╚═════════ part six

summary: yunho and mingi will do anything for her. their best friend. the girl they love. even if that means turning their entire college campus into her favorite slasher flick.

warning: mingi and yunho are both killers, strong descriptions of death, blood, gore and violence, threesome, oral, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, creampie

genre: horror, dark romance, smut

pairing: ghostface yunho x afab reader x ghostface mingi

word count: 11.1k

chapter five

masterlist

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The morning air had a bite to it, just sharp enough to keep Y/N tethered to the present as she stood in line at the corner coffee shop. The same one she’d visited that first day, before the bodies, before the parties, before the masks. Before she’d started wondering how many people around her had been wearing masks long before Ghostface ever put one on.

The barista called her name but she didn’t hear it right away, too busy watching the muted TV above the counter. Another news anchor. Another familiar face on screen. “Police have now confirmed the death of Richard Shultz, who was killed in the Ghostface attacks. Sources say the elder Shultz, a prominent attorney and donor to the university, was found dead tossed and shot outside his apartment building. No suspects have been identified.”

Y/N blinked once, twice. Her fingers curled tighter around the paper cup, the heat bleeding into her palm like static. The reporter kept talking, words spilling out like a crime scene recap but she wasn’t listening anymore. Her thoughts weren’t on the screen, they were on the two boys she couldn’t stop thinking about. Yunho. Mingi. They hadn’t said it. Not in words. But the signs were everywhere now, written in the gaps between confessions, in the heat of their touches, in the violent hunger she’d seen behind Yunho’s eyes. Mingi wasn’t even hiding it anymore, not really. And if they weren’t hiding it, maybe they didn’t care who knew.

But then…. there was a third mask. Her stomach churned as she took a slow sip of her coffee. The bitter liquid coated her tongue like smoke. And yet, she didn’t leave. She stayed planted in that café, watching the screen, the door, the people around her, all while wondering if any of them had blood under their nails. She finished the coffee, got a refill and sat only a moment longer before getting up to leave.

The bell above the door jingled as Y/N stepped out of the café, the cold air rushing to meet her like a slap. Her fingers tightened around her coffee cup, the familiar hiss of espresso machines fading behind her as she pulled her hoodie sleeves over her hands and started down the sidewalk. She only made it a few steps before someone called her name. “Y/N.”

She turned and nearly dropped her drink. Seonghwa stood a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark coat. Behind him, Hongjoong leaned against a parked car, arms crossed, brows knit in something that looked a little too serious for Halloween morning. “Hey,” she said, heart skipping for reasons she didn’t like. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were just grabbing breakfast,” Seonghwa said smoothly. His tone was light, casual, but the way his eyes flicked over her said otherwise. “Didn’t expect to run into you.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged. “Gotta have coffee or I’ll kill someone.” Hongjoong didn’t laugh. “Are you planning to stay in tonight?” he asked instead, straight to the point. “With everything that’s been happening… seems smarter.” Y/N blinked, then glanced between the two of them. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

“Think about it,” Seonghwa said, taking a step closer. His voice was lower now, more cautious. “Halloween makes people crazy. You remember what happened last year.” Of course she did. Everyone did. “Do you guys need something?” she asked, a touch sharper than she meant. “Because I feel like you’re circling something instead of just saying it.” Hongjoong didn’t move from the car. But his jaw tightened. “Have you seen Yunho or Mingi today?” There it was. Y/N exhaled slowly. “No. Why?”

“You haven’t been with them?” Seonghwa pressed, his gaze narrowing slightly. “No,” she lied, keeping her face neutral. Silence stretched for a moment too long. Then Seonghwa spoke again, his voice gentler this time. “We’re just worried about you. That’s all. We don’t think it’s over. And the cops have questions about Yunho and Mingi, still. Especially now with Darren’s dad…”

“They didn’t do that,” she said before she could stop herself. Both men looked at her. Hard. “Why are you so sure?” Hongjoong asked and she paused. Swallowed. “I’m not. I just… I don’t think it was them.” Not this time. But she was still lying. Because she did think they’d done the others. She just didn’t know what the hell that meant anymore, or why part of her still wanted to be with them. Seonghwa studied her for another beat, then finally sighed. “Just… be careful tonight. Please.”

“I will,” she said but the chill in her bones said it might already be too late for careful.

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The hallway was too quiet. Y/N’s boots clicked softly against the linoleum as she climbed the final flight of stairs to her floor, her coffee long gone and her thoughts racing too fast for caffeine to keep up. Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s words echoed in her ears, warnings and worry laced with suspicion. But that wasn’t what made her heart slam against her ribs as she rounded the corner toward her dorm room. It was them. Yunho and Mingi. Standing outside her door like ghosts wearing flesh.

Yunho leaned against the wall, arms crossed, black hoodie pulled up like a shadow cloaking half his face. Mingi was pacing, hoodie unzipped, hands shoved into his pockets, jaw tight with tension. They both looked up the moment they heard her steps and Y/N froze mid step. Neither of them said anything. Just stared for a moment before Y/N broke it, “What are you doing here?”

Mingi gave a crooked half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Waiting for you.”

“I can see that.”

“You didn’t answer your texts,” Yunho said. His voice was low and careful as he pushed off the wall, his gaze locked onto hers like he was searching for a storm behind her eyes. “We got worried.”

“Worried I’d gone to the cops?” she asked, folding her arms. Mingi winced, head tipping back with a groan. “Come on, Y/N…”

“I didn’t,” she added quickly. “But I did just talk to Seonghwa and Hongjoong. They’re asking questions. They know something’s off. They asked where you both were.” That made them both go still. Yunho glanced around the hallway, then leaned in, voice lower. “Can we go inside?”

She hesitated. Keys in her hand, fingers cold. “I don’t know,” she said. “Should I be letting murderers into my room?” Yunho didn’t flinch. Mingi did, visibly. “Y/N….”

“You haven’t told me anything,” she snapped, louder than she meant. “Not really. And you expect me to just… what? Keep lying for you?”

“You have been lying for us,” Yunho said softly. “So maybe part of you already knows why.” The silence that followed was electric until finally, she turned and shoved the key into the lock. “Get inside. Now.” The door slammed shut behind them. Yunho hovered by her desk like he’d been there a hundred times, like nothing was wrong. Mingi dropped onto the edge of her bed, rubbing a hand through his hair, eyes on her like he was bracing for impact.

Y/N tossed her keys onto the dresser and turned around slowly, arms crossed. “Are you going after Darren?” That hit harder than any accusation. Yunho’s gaze snapped to her. Mingi went completely still. “You think we would?”

“Just answer the question,” she said, voice sharp but not shaking. “Because if you are, I need to know. I need to prepare for what’s coming.” Yunho opened his mouth, then closed it again. It was Mingi who finally spoke. “He’s not clean, Y/N.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Mingi looked up at her, eyes dark, jaw set. “We don’t know where he is. Not yet.”

“So you are planning on it.”

Yunho moved first, stepping closer. “You think we’re reckless?”

“No,” she admitted. “But you’re running out of time to be careful.” Her voice softened, the weight of everything finally cracking through her frustration. “They’re closing in. Hongjoong and Seonghwa are circling. There’s probably a task force by now. If you do anything else, if you touch Darren, you’re not walking away from this.”

Mingi scoffed under his breath and stood. “We already didn’t walk away. You think we get to have a normal ending after everything we’ve done?” Yunho didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at her like she was the last light left in a blackout city.

Y/N swallowed hard. “I’m not scared of you. That’s the worst part. I should be. But I’m not. I’m just scared of what you’ll lose.” Yunho stepped in closer. So close she could feel the heat of him. “We’re already losing it,” he said quietly, his eyes dropping to her lips. “Except for you.”He was close enough to touch. Mingi was behind him, eyes flicking between them, breathing shallow. The silence pulsed in the room like a second heartbeat.

Y/N stared at both of them. And they stared back, like they were waiting for her to break, to bolt, to scream. But she didn’t. She just whispered, “I know you love me.” Yunho’s breath hitched. Mingi blinked once, then again. “I’ve known,” she continued, voice shaking just a little. “Maybe not in the beginning, but somewhere between the late night phone calls and everything the two of you do for me, I figured it out.”

She looked at Yunho. Then Mingi. “I love you, too.” No one moved. Not even the air. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but she didn’t look away. “And that’s why I’m scared. Not of you. Not of what you’ve done.” Her voice cracked. “I’m scared you’re going to get caught. I’m scared I’ll lose you. Both of you.”

Mingi exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for days as Yunho reached for her, fingers trembling, but didn’t touch her yet, he waited, like her words were sacred, like she was as Y/N stepped closer. “Whatever happens next, I need you to be careful. I need you to live.”

“We didn’t expect this,” Mingi said softly behind Yunho. “We didn’t expect you.”

“And now you’re stuck with me,” she whispered. Finally, Yunho touched her, his hand cradling her cheek, thumb brushing a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “We never wanted to drag you into this,” he murmured. “Too late,” she breathed, leaning into him. “I walked in with both feet.” Then she turned slightly, reaching for Mingi, pulling him in too. And there they stood, dangerous, bruised, broken, and somehow, this was the safest she’d ever felt.

Y/N pulled back from the warm weight of their bodies, her voice quiet but not uncertain. “I need a shower.” The mood shifted, just slightly. Her thumb brushed Yunho’s arm before she turned away. “Shouldn’t take long,” she added, already grabbing her dorm key. Mingi’s brows lifted. “Shower, huh?” Yunho immediately shot him a warning look. “Don’t.” Mingi smirked. “Oh come on. I’m just saying, maybe we make it a group activity. You know… conserve water, bond before the murder.”

Y/N paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder. “You’re an idiot.” But she didn’t say no. Didn’t shut the door behind her. And both boys caught that unspoken invitation like a match being lit.

The dormitory halls were mostly empty, everyone out prepping for the massive Halloween party. The building was quiet, eerily so, and the coed showers? Practically deserted as Y/N padded barefoot across the chilled tile, slipping past the row of empty stalls until she reached the far corner. The old fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above her as she turned the knob, steam hissing instantly into the air. She pulled her clothes off and stepped under the spray, letting it run over her shoulders, eyes fluttering shut.

She opened her eyes to see Mingi’s reflection in the cracked mirror just outside the stall. Yunho followed behind him, towel slung over his shoulder, expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes were already locked on her silhouette through the fogged plastic curtain.

Mingi’s shirt hit the bench with a soft thud. Yunho’s followed. Y/N turned slowly, water trailing down her spine. “You’re seriously doing this?” Mingi pulled the curtain aside just enough to grin at her. “Only if you let us.” She held his gaze, chest rising and falling with every breath. Then she backed up beneath the water, nodding once. “Then what the hell are you waiting for?”

Mingi stepped in, his body was hot against hers, despite the water. He didn’t touch her at first, just stood close enough for the heat to build, the tension to stretch between them like elastic. Then a larger hand reached past both of them and drew the curtain closed again. Yunho. He was quieter. Slower. His eyes didn’t tease, they devoured. He stepped in behind her, not touching yet either, but close. She could feel him everywhere, heat against her spine, his breath near her ear.

“This is a terrible idea,” Y/N whispered, lips curving despite herself. Mingi leaned in. “Say the word and we’ll stop.” She glanced between them, cheeks flushed from more than just the water. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Yunho’s hands were the first to touch her, fingertips ghosting down her arms, slow and reverent. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder as his hands slid forward, palms against her ribs, thumbs brushing the curve of her breasts but not yet taking. Behind her, she felt Mingi’s chest press against her back, lips brushing the side of her neck. “You’re shaking,” Mingi murmured. Y/N laughed softly. “I’m outnumbered again.”

“Outloved,” Yunho corrected gently, his hands finally cupping her chest, dragging a gasp from her lips. Mingi’s hands slid around her waist, down, gripping her hips like he was holding himself back. “You sure about this?” he asked, voice surprisingly serious, breath hot against her ear. Y/N turned her head, eyes meeting his. “I’m yours,” she whispered. “Both of yours.”

Mingi’s lips brushed down her spine like he was tracing scripture, hands spreading over her hips, anchoring her in place as the water poured over all three of them. Yunho didn’t stop touching her either, his thumbs grazing her nipples now, firm and slow, pulling soft gasps from her mouth. She arched into him, back pressed to his chest, her head tipping to rest against his shoulder. He kissed the curve of her jaw like he needed it, like he’d starve without the taste of her skin. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, barely audible over the rush of water, fingers tweaking gently now, then soothing. “You don’t even know.”

Mingi dropped to his knees behind her, the sound almost lost in the steam. But she felt it, the sudden absence of pressure behind her, the shift in heat, and then his hands were parting her thighs, thumbs stroking the inside of them. Y/N’s hand reached behind her, fingers sliding into Mingi’s damp hair. She tugged, just enough to make him groan.

He didn’t waste a second. The first flick of his tongue against her already sensitive center made her whole body shudder, a strangled sound catching in her throat. Yunho held her tighter, one arm wrapped around her torso now, the other hand still teasing, soothing, worshiping as Mingi was devouring her like she was his last meal.

She let out a sound that might’ve been a sob, her knees wobbling as Mingi moaned into her, the vibrations making her eyes roll back. Yunho’s hand slid down, joining Mingi’s mouth, fingers stroking over where Mingi wasn’t yet licking, adding just enough pressure to make her hips jerk. “I can’t….” she breathed. “You can,” Yunho murmured against her ear, voice thick. “You’re doing so good for us. Let go, baby.”

Mingi’s grip tightened on her thighs and he doubled down, tongue dragging slow, wet circles over her clit, then sucking and she broke. With a cry muffled by Yunho’s mouth capturing hers, she came hard, trembling between them, water washing over her while they held her steady, their touches softening but never leaving. Yunho pulled back just enough to whisper, “That’s one.”

Mingi stood, mouth wet, eyes dark and blown wide with something deeper than lust. He kissed her like he needed her to know it wasn’t just sex as Yunho lifted her like it was nothing. Hands under her thighs, back pressing her against the cool tile as the steam swirled around them, he kissed her slow, messy and deep, while Mingi’s hands smoothed over her back, down to the curve of her ass. She felt them everywhere. Every breath. Every heartbeat. They didn’t just touch her, they claimed her.

Her arms wrapped around Yunho’s shoulders as he lined himself up, the stretch of him making her head fall back with a gasp against the shower wall. “Fuck, Yunho…”

“I know, baby,” he breathed, burying his face in her neck, the sound of water crashing around them. “You feel so good…. always so good…” Mingi moved behind her, his hands helping lift her slightly, taking pressure off her thighs. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, voice husky, reverent. “Or if you want more.”

She didn’t have to answer with words, just the way her hips rocked, the way she looked over her shoulder at him, wrecked and wanting. Mingi kissed between her shoulder blades. “That’s my girl.” He pressed against her, slow and careful at first, and Yunho held her tighter, eyes locked on hers, watching every flicker of expression cross her face. Their bodies shifted to accommodate each other, every move deliberate, worshipful. This wasn’t chaos. It was ritual.

When Mingi finally sank into her from behind, she broke again, her mouth open in a silent moan, fingers clawing at Yunho’s wet back as he swallowed every sound she made. “Holy fuck,” Mingi groaned into her shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.” Her legs were shaking again, tears stinging her eyes, not from pain, but from how full she felt, how deeply they were inside her, how safe and filthy and wanted she was. Her head dropped forward onto Yunho’s shoulder as he started thrusting again, timed with Mingi now, slow and deep, rolling into her so deliberately it felt like she was going to lose her mind.

“Taking both of us like this,” Yunho whispered into her ear. “So good, so perfect. Our girl.”

“Our girl,” Mingi echoed, voice cracked open and raw.

They moved in rhythm, one pulling back as the other pushed forward, perfect coordination, perfect control. Her body jolted with each thrust, the shower wall slick against her spine, her hands braced now against both of them as her orgasm crept back up fast, no warning. “I….. I’m gonna…”

“Let go,” Yunho breathed, kissing her hard. “We’ve got you,” Mingi promised, one hand slipping down to rub her clit in slow circles. “Come for us, baby.” She shattered. Everything went white, stars behind her eyes, a scream caught in her throat, her body seizing with pleasure between them as they held her through it, murmuring praise against her skin, kissing her cheeks, her shoulders, her lips, her back.

They didn’t let go. Not even when they were coming too, Yunho gasping her name, Mingi biting down softly on her shoulder as they both fell apart.

And still, they didn’t let go.

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The sun was bleeding out over the city skyline, casting long, golden fingers through the tall windows of the dormitory’s common room. It bathed everything in soft amber, the couches, the scratched up tables, the small shelf of board games no one ever touched, and the tired-looking coffee machine still sputtering life into overused paper cups.

Y/N stood in front of it, cradling her mug as the machine rumbled. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and her limbs carried the ache of earlier, her body flushed with a bruised kind of warmth, but her mind? Spinning. Yunho and Mingi were gone. Said they had errands, but didn’t elaborate. She hadn’t asked. She didn’t need to. She knew what they were getting ready for.

“Hey.”

Jongho stood beside her now, quiet as ever, like he’d just materialized. His hoodie was black, zipped up halfway, his expression calm but lined with worry. “You okay?” he asked gently, watching her with those deep, unreadable eyes. She nodded slowly, unsure what her face was doing. “Yeah. I mean… not really. Just trying to stay sane.”

Jongho didn’t speak for a moment. The coffee machine beeped, finished, and she pulled her cup away, lifting it to blow the steam. He leaned against the counter next to her, folding his arms. “You staying in tonight?” She glanced at him, wary. “Why? Planning to go to another party?”

A flicker of a smile touched his lips. “God, no. Not after last time.“ He didn’t have to elaborate. Cassie. Y/N cracked a small laugh before looking away, her voice quieter. “I don’t think I’m going out.”

“Smart.” He nodded. “Everyone’s losing their minds for the Halloween party. Cops are everywhere. Feels like a curfew’s about to hit.” There was a beat of silence between them. Then he asked, soft, probing, “You seen Yunho and Mingi today?” Her eyes lifted to his. “Yeah,” she said carefully. “They stopped by earlier.”

Jongho nodded, slow like he was thinking. “They okay?” She tilted her head, studying him. “Why are you asking?” He met her gaze head on. Calm. Too calm. “Just wondering if you’ve seen any of the signs. You know… weird behavior. Nervousness. Anger.”

Her chest tensed, grip tightening around her coffee again. “Why would you think they’re angry?” Jongho shrugged lightly. “People act weird when they’re cornered.” Her stomach dropped. But she didn’t show it. Just gave a little, forced laugh and sipped her drink. “I guess you’d know a lot about that,” she said, tone teasing, testing? Jongho smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe,” he said.

Y/N forced a smile, trying to push away the unease knotting in her stomach. “Think I’m just gonna stay in tonight,” she said, glancing out the tall window where the sun was bleeding into dusk. “Watch something dumb. Maybe something with zero murder for once.” Jongho chuckled, low and easy. “Bold choice for Halloween.”

“Yeah, well…” She took another sip of her coffee. “My life’s scary enough already.” He leaned his elbow on the counter, nodding thoughtfully. “Sounds like a solid plan, though. You deserve a night off.” Something about the way he said it felt strange. Not threatening, not even suspicious, just… rehearsed. Too calm. But maybe she was just overanalyzing. She’d been doing a lot of that lately.

Jongho stood up straight, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I might swing by later,” he said casually. “After I grab something to eat.” Y/N blinked. “Oh… yeah. Sure.” He smiled again, small, polite, just the right amount of warm. “Cool. See you later, then.”

And with that, he turned and walked off down the hall, quiet and steady. Y/N watched him go, her fingers tightening around the cup as her reflection stared back at her in the darkening window. Something wasn’t right. She just didn’t know what yet.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Jongho shut the door to his dorm room with a quiet click. The second it latched, he dropped the smile. “I told her I’d stop by later,” he said flatly.

Across the room, Yunho was tugging on the bottom half of his Ghostface suit, already zipped up to his waist. He didn’t look up as he adjusted his gloves. “And?”

“She bought it.” Jongho crossed to his bed, pulled off his hoodie, and reached for the duffel bag he kept hidden under the mattress. “Still doesn’t suspect me at all.”

In the corner, Mingi was tying his boots, long fingers lacing tight and fast. His voice was calmer than usual, focused. “The detectives are still watching our apartment. I saw one of them parked across the street when we left.”

“That’s why we’re doing it here,” Yunho muttered, yanking the zipper the rest of the way up. “One more night. One more clean sweep. And then we’re done.” Mingi stood and stepped into his robe like coat, the one he always wore over the Ghostface suit until it was go time. “Unless someone screws it up.”

Jongho shot him a look. “I haven’t yet.”

“Didn’t say you had,” Mingi replied coolly, grabbing the white mask from the dresser. The room smelled like latex, metal, and adrenaline. Yunho slipped on his own mask, holding it in place with one hand while he fixed the strap behind his head with the other.

His voice came low through the warped plastic. “Tonight’s the finale. Darren dies. And then we’re done.”

Jongho looked between them, his eyes sharp. “And Y/N?” Yunho hesitated. Just for a second. But it was there. “She stays out of it,” he said finally. “We made a promise.”

Mingi didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the mask in his hand like it had something to say. Then he slipped it on. And the silence was answer enough.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Y/N zipped up her hoodie as she was getting ready to step out her dorm. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, and the dorms were alive with motion, students laughing, music thumping faintly in the distance, costumed bodies flooding the quad.

She wasn’t even sure where she was going, just that she needed food and maybe a second to breathe. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and her blood cooled a little. Darren. “Hello?”

“Hey,” his voice came, light, casual, too casual. “You busy?” Her steps slowed. “Uh… kinda. I was just about to grab something to eat…”

“You should come to the quad.”

She frowned, shifting her weight. “Darren…”

“Just to talk,” he added quickly. “No bullshit. No weirdness. Just you and me. In public. You’ll be safe. I figured with everyone out and about, it’d be neutral ground.”

“You want to talk… here?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “In the middle of all that?” He laughed. “Exactly. I figured it was the only place where you wouldn’t think I’d try something stupid.”

Y/N bit her lip, hesitating. Something about this felt off, but honestly? Everything felt off lately. And maybe if she met him, got whatever this was out of the way, she could finally breathe again. “Fine,” she said. “Five minutes. That’s it.”

“Deal,” Darren said smoothly. “I’ll be by the big oak. You can’t miss me.” He hung up before she could say anything else.

The hallways of the dorm were still quieter than usual, most students already out celebrating or getting their last minute costumes together. The buzz of the Halloween party in the quad echoed faintly through the windows as Y/N slipped out her dorm, trying not to think about Darren’s voice still rattling around in her head.

As she headed down the hallway and passed the common room, she slowed slightly. Inside, one of the upperclassmen, Brandon? Brian? Something with a B, was standing at the little kitchenette counter, lazily stacking meat onto a slice of bread. He didn’t acknowledge her as she walked by, earbuds in, head nodding along to whatever he was listening to.

Her eyes drifted to the knife in his hand, long, silver, slightly dull but still sharp enough to slice through tomato and ham with ease. She stopped. He didn’t notice as he slapped the sandwich together with the kind of chaotic energy only a college student possessed, tossed the knife into the tiny dorm sink with a clatter, and shuffled off with a grunt, plate in hand.

The door clicked behind him and Y/N glanced around. No one else. She stepped into the kitchenette. The knife sat on top of a pile of dishes, still wet with tomato juice, a single shred of lettuce stuck to the blade. She grabbed a paper towel, wrapped it around the handle, and without thinking too hard, tucked it into the inner pocket of her coat. It wasn’t exactly self defense class 101, but if Darren, or anyone, tried anything tonight? She wasn’t going down without a fight.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The quad was buzzing with life. Laughter rippled through the crowd as someone let off a handful of fake blood filled balloons, splattering red across a group of unsuspecting students dressed as cheerleaders and zombies. A guy in a cape passed by yelling “It’s giving Dracula!” and a speaker crackled out a remix of “Thriller” like it was the anthem of the night.

Y/N ignored all of it. Her eyes were locked on Darren, who stood just beyond the reach of the string lights under the oak trees, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. She moved closer, slowly. One hand still around the knife hidden in her coat pocket. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t speak until she was just a few feet away. “I need you to take me to the airport,” he said, voice sharp and low.

Y/N blinked, stunned. “What?” She shook her head, taking a small step back. “Are you serious right now? After everything you’ve done? No. Absolutely not.”

“Y/N.” His voice dropped, warning dark. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Oh, go to hell.” She turned like she was about to walk away, but then froze. She felt it before she saw it. The sound of fabric shifting, the chill that ran down her spine just a split second before she saw him pull the gun from the inside of his hoodie and aim it directly at her. “I said now.”

Her mouth went dry. Her grip tightened around the knife in her pocket, but she didn’t move. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, there were people, still close enough. Laughing. Dancing. Drinking. No one looking this way. “You’re insane,” she whispered.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on? You think I don’t know who your boyfriends are? What they’ve done?” His eyes glinted. She swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. “You’re gonna shoot me? In front of a hundred people?” Darren smiled now, cold and terrifying. “Not if you walk with me. Nice and quiet.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, the cool edge of the stolen knife still hidden in her coat pocket as Darren moved in behind her. The muzzle of the gun pressed into her lower back, subtle enough not to draw attention but clear in its message: Move. So she did.

They pushed through the crowd, music thumping around them. Someone dressed as Chucky bumped her shoulder and muttered a drunken apology. A girl in a vampire costume posed for a photo, her plastic fangs flashing white as her boyfriend held her waist. The scent of weed and candy apples drifted through the air. It was Halloween, and no one noticed the real danger right in their midst.

Y/N’s eyes swept the crowd, looking for anything, an opening, a face, a miracle. And then she saw it. Just ahead. Between two dorm banners strung up with faux cobwebs, stood a figure in a Ghostface mask. Motionless. Watching.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as she kept walking, breath shallow, but her fingers twitched at her side. Darren noticed it too. “What the fuck,” he muttered. Then another one stepped out of the crowd, closer now, slipping between a group of students dressed like skeletons. Then a third. All of them Ghostface. All of them walking slowly, deliberately, toward them.

Darren stopped short, breath catching in his throat. “Why is there three of them?” Y/N turned her head just enough to look at him, her voice flat. “That’s a good question.” The first Ghostface tilted its head. The second one raised a gloved hand, dragging a thumb across the blade it carried.

The third was the closest now, moving with calm, terrifying precision, like a predator that had already decided how this would end. The music swelled around them, something electronic and twisted, bass vibrating through the ground, and yet the space between them and the masks felt eerily silent.

Darren’s hand twitched against her back and Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the one with the gun. Do something.” He was sweating now. “They’re bluffing. It’s some prank.”

The second Ghostface reached into their cloak, slowly pulling something out. Not a knife. A phone. It lit up in their hand, the screen glowing bright red. And then it started to ring. The sound echoed in her bones. Darren’s panic tipped fully into fear. “No. No, no…. this isn’t happening.”

The phone kept ringing. Not from Y/N’s pocket. Not from Darren’s. It was the second Ghostface’s phone, the one standing just to the right of the dorm archway now, holding it up like it was a casual call from a friend. Then it stopped.

Darren’s own phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He fumbled it out with one hand, keeping the gun pressed to Y/N’s back with the other. He looked at the screen. No caller ID. He hesitated. “Answer it,” Y/N said coldly.

“Hello?”

A low chuckle crackled over the speaker. “Do you really think you can hide behind her?” the voice asked. Calm. Unhurried. Male. But unfamiliar enough not to place. Darren’s eyes scanned the Ghostface masks again, all three still closing in, slow and steady through the crowd, the second one holding the phone. His grip on the gun faltered for half a second. “You come near us, I swear to god I’ll shoot her!”

Y/N didn’t flinch. Not even a blink as the voice sighed. “You won’t.” Darren barked, “Try me!” The third Ghostface, taller than the others, paused and tilted his head slightly. His hand flexed around the blade, relaxed, almost amused as the voice kept going, smooth and chilling. “You think they care if she gets caught in the crossfire? You really think that’s going to stop me? You hurt her. You ran your mouth. You tried to throw her under the bus. That’s your play?”

Darren’s lip curled. “She’s still breathing, isn’t she? And if you come any closer, she won’t be.” Y/N, calm as the moon, spoke for the first time in minutes. “Then pull the fucking trigger, Darren.” He stiffened as she turned her head slightly, just enough to glare at him over her shoulder. “Or are you too much of a coward to go through with it now that your dick isn’t in control?”

The voice on the phone laughed. Loud. Unhinged. Like it knew her. “God, I really like her,” the caller said. “We should keep her.” Darren hung up so fast it was like the phone burned him. He grabbed Y/N’s arm hard, shoving the gun deeper into her back. “Move,” he hissed. She didn’t fight, she knew better than to startle a man this unstable. She kept her steps steady as he dragged her across the quad, weaving them through laughing students who had no idea a gun was pressed into her spine.

They moved past the costume contest, past the DJ booth blasting “Heads Will Roll,” past the sea of oblivious bodies, and toward the dim basketball gym at the edge of campus. The second they reached the door, Darren shoved her inside with a grunt, kicking it shut behind them. The echo thundered across the darkened court, the overhead lights half off, the place empty except for stacked chairs and folded bleachers.

Y/N stumbled forward, caught herself, then turned slowly to face him as Darren locked the door. His face twisted, sweat slicking his hairline, eyes wild. “This is your fault.” She stared at him. “My fault?”

“You told them,” he snapped, stepping closer. The gun rose with him. “You told them to come after me.” She blinked once, slow. “Darren, I haven’t talked to Yunho or Mingi about anything…”

“Oh, shut up.” He jabbed the gun toward her chest. “Those psychos have been circling me for weeks. You expect me to believe you didn’t know?” She kept her breathing even. Calm. Controlled. “So now what? You’re going to kill me too?”

“No,” he spat. “You’re leverage. They want me dead? Fine. They’re going to watch you die first.”

She didn’t flinch, even though her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “You’re blaming the wrong people,” she said softly.

Darren laughed, sharp and ugly. “Right. Because there’s a third one now. And you don’t know anything about that either?”

The gym door creaked open making both of them jump a little as two figures stepped in. Ghostface masks gleaming under the dim emergency lighting, black robes dragging silently across the scuffed floor. One taller, one broader, both unmistakably dangerous.

Darren froze.

Y/N could feel the sudden spike of panic radiating off him like heat. He pulled her tighter, the cold press of the gun digging into her ribs now as he raised his voice, raw and panicked. “Stay back!” he shouted. “I’ll shoot her. I swear to fucking god, back the fuck off!”

The two Ghostfaces halted. Right at the edge of the court, feet shoulder width apart, masks tilted just slightly, like they were taking him in. Studying him. And then… one of them slowly lifted a gloved hand and pointed. Right at Darren and Y/N’s breath caught. Darren’s did too. “What…. what the fuck does that mean?” Darren snapped, shifting behind Y/N more. “You think I’m bluffing?! You think I won’t shoot her right here?!”

The Ghostface with the broader build took one step forward and Darren flinched so hard the barrel wobbled against Y/N’s side. “Back off!” he screamed again. “I said I’ll kill her!”

The taller Ghostface raised both hands, palms out, slow… like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. Y/N could feel Darren’s heart racing behind her. She kept her hands visible, fingers twitching with the urge to reach for the knife hidden inside her jacket.

The taller Ghostface took one step to the left. The broader one mirrored it to the right. Flanking him and Darren’s breathing grew erratic. “This isn’t how this goes,” he muttered. “You’re supposed to run. You’re supposed to run when someone has a fucking gun!”

The Ghostfaces didn’t run. They didn’t even flinch. They just started closing in again, measured, confident, like they had all the time in the world. Y/N’s eyes flicked toward the back of the gym. That door. If she could just get Darren to turn…

Another phone rang. A sharp vibration from Darren’s hoodie pocket. The sound made him jerk again, gun dipping, nearly grazing her hip. He fumbled for it, still trying to keep Y/N between him and the masked killers. With one hand still tight on the gun, he answered. “What?” he snapped.

The voice on the other end was cold. Amused. “You really think you’re the main character, Darren?” Y/N’s heart jumped. That voice was distorted. Ghostface. The third one. “Do you really think you can hide behind her?” the voice continued, low and dangerous. “She’s not your shield. She’s the only reason you’re still breathing.”

Darren’s hand trembled, and he snapped back, “If any of you come closer, I’ll shoot her!” There was a pause. Then the voice said, “Try it.” And the line went dead.

Darren’s fingers dug into Y/N’s arm. “Move,” he barked, dragging her toward the old bleachers on the side of the gym. The metal stairs clanged under their steps, echoing with every hurried stomp. His grip was iron tight, the gun now half lowered but still pointed in her direction. Y/N didn’t fight him, not yet. Not while the Ghostfaces were still below.

From the opposite end of the gym, the two masked killers were already moving. Silent. Steady. Not running. Just climbing, one step at a time, like they were stalking, not chasing. Darren looked over his shoulder and cursed. “Fucking psychos.”

The air grew thick with every step. The bleachers creaked under their weight as Darren hauled her up to the top row, the farthest point from the gym floor, nearly eye level with the old metal rafters. Y/N glanced down, saw the Ghostfaces splitting up again. One taking the left side of the bleachers. The other, broader, heavier steps, on the right.

Darren kept pulling her, gun still clutched, hand trembling now. “I’ll fucking shoot them,” he hissed. “I will. I’ll take one of them out and then you…” He stopped talking. Because one of the Ghostfaces was now standing at the bottom of the bleachers, halfway up, staring straight at them. The other just two rows down and to their left. Cornered. Y/N’s breath hitched.

The metal bleachers groaned under the shifting weight as Darren hauled Y/N closer to the back railing, his breath coming in ragged, panicked bursts. Below them, the gym echoed with the soft thunk… thunk… thunk of boots on metal.

The first Ghostface reached the midpoint of the bleachers. The second, larger one stalked up the opposite side, steps slow, deliberate, almost taunting. And then, the third shape appeared at the gym doors. The third Ghostface stepped inside, closing the doors behind him with a quiet click that somehow echoed louder than the music outside. He didn’t rush. Didn’t run. Just tilted his head with that eerie stillness that made the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck rise.

The Ghostfaces fanned out. One at the bottom center.

One halfway up the right.

The third blocking the exit entirely. But none of them came too close. None of them tried to risk it. That gun in Darren’s hand was still jammed against Y/N’s skull hard enough to bruise.

Y/N winced, teeth gritting as Darren pressed the barrel harder against her temple like he was trying to fuse it through bone. “Back off!” he shouted, voice cracking with fear. “I swear to God I’ll kill her! I told you!” The Ghostfaces all stopped moving. Perfect stillness. Only the soft buzz of the gym lights and the muffled bass from the quad outside cut through the silence.

Darren swallowed, eyes darting between them, sweat dripping down his jaw. His hand shook. His voice didn’t. “Off!” he screamed, voice cracking. “The masks…. now!” The three Ghostfaces didn’t move. Not yet. Just three black hoods, three white, expressionless masks… watching him as if waiting for something.

Y/N felt Darren’s grip falter for a fraction of a heartbeat. Just long enough to feel him start to unravel. The gun dug into her head even harder. “I SAID TAKE THEM OFF!”

The Ghostface at the bottom of the bleachers… slowly lifted a hand. And reached for the mask. Pausing. Teasing. Inches of skin. A jawline. Full lips. That sharp, unmistakable nose. Yunho. His face was calm, lips parted just slightly, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. His eyes met hers, not Darren’s, not the gun, but hers.

Y/N barely had time to react before the second Ghostface followed suit, yanking his mask off in one quick, almost annoyed motion. Mingi. He looked wild. Hair disheveled. Eyes dark and furious. There was no apology in his face. No regret. Just a quiet fury simmering beneath his skin like it had been building for months.

Darren’s breath stuttered. “You…” he choked. “You sick…. I fucking knew it!”

Yunho didn’t blink. “Let her go.”

“Fuck you! You think I don’t know this was all you?” Darren snapped, dragging Y/N even higher up the bleachers like she was some kind of human shield. “She’s probably in on it too!”

Mingi took one step forward. “She’s not.”

“She is if she’s protecting you!”

“She’s not!” Yunho snapped, voice cracking across the gym like thunder. The sharpness in his tone made even the third Ghostface twitch from across the floor. Y/N’s heart thundered in her chest. She knew it. She knew it, but seeing their faces now, all of it laid bare… it didn’t make it any less intense.

She looked at Yunho again, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, anything, but her mind was spinning too fast to catch up. That’s when the third Ghostface started walking. Slowly. Steadily. Still masked. Yunho and Mingi turned their heads just slightly and Darren noticed too, panicking all over again. “NO…. NO! No more games! You… take that shit off too!” he shouted, waving the gun in the third killer’s direction and Y/N’s chest heaved.

The third Ghostface stopped climbing. Stopped moving entirely. That eerie stillness washed over the gym again, bleeding into the space between every heartbeat. Darren’s breaths turned sharp and uneven. “Take it off. TAKE IT OFF!”

The third Ghostface tilted his head once… then slowly lifted both hands. Y/N’s pulse roared in her ears. Her fingers tightened around Darren’s forearm. And the mask came off. Black hood first. Then white plastic sliding up…. Revealing dark hair damp with sweat…. A sharp jaw…. Wide brown eyes she knew better than her own…. And a quiet, unreadable smile.

Jongho.

Y/N froze.

Darren froze.

The entire gym seemed to stop breathing as Jongho held the mask at his side, expression soft… almost gentle… as if he’d just taken off a Halloween costume at a dorm party.

“W… What…?” Darren stammered, voice barely above a whisper. “Jongho?”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she couldn’t speak, her stomach dropped like all the air had been stolen from the room. The friend she trusted. The one who held her that night at the bottom of the stairs. The one who always said he’d protect her. He just stared back at her with that small, unsettling smile.

“Why… why the fuck are you here?” Darren demanded, voice breaking. “What….. what is this?!”

Jongho’s eyes flicked to Yunho and Mingi, calm recognition, then back to Darren who lifted the gun higher, pressing it so hard to Y/N’s head she winced. “Okay… okay,” Darren rasped. “Fine. Great. Three psychos. Perfect.” His voice cracked into hysteria. “So tell me…. SOMEONE TELL ME…” He pointed the gun straight at Jongho. “WHICH ONE OF YOU ASSHOLES KILLED MY DAD?!”

The gym went silent. Yunho’s jaw clenched. Mingi’s fingers twitched at his sides, eyes burning with hatred. But Jongho… his expression didn’t falter. He just lifted his chin slightly, the shimmering gym lights catching the edge of his smile. Then he grinned. Slow. Wicked. Relieved. “Me.”

BANG.

The deafening crack of the gunshot rang out through the empty gym. Jongho jerked backward with the impact, stumbling a step as the bullet tore through his shoulder. His mask hit the floor with a dull clack, rolling once before settling near the bleachers. He caught himself with a grunt, one hand instinctively going to the fresh wound, blood already seeping through his fingers.

“JONGHO!” Y/N cried out, twisting in Darren’s grip, but he yanked her tighter, the barrel of the gun now jammed harshly against her temple again. “Try me again!” Darren roared, chest heaving, eyes wild. “Go ahead, try me again!”

Jongho straightened slowly, eyes narrowing, pain flashing across his face, but it didn’t stop him. His jaw was set. He didn’t say a word as Yunho took a step forward, but Darren’s shout stopped him cold. “Don’t fucking move!” He turned the gun from Jongho to Yunho and Mingi, arm shaking but deadly steady.

“You’re gonna let me go,” Darren snarled, dragging Y/N. “I’m gonna walk out of here. I’ll leave the damn city, I’ll leave the country, I don’t care. But if either of you so much as flinch…” The gun tapped against Y/N’s head again. “The next bullet goes in her skull.”

Yunho froze, hands slowly raising. Mingi’s expression shattered into rage and panic. She could feel Darren’s breath at her ear, rapid and erratic. Her heart thundered, but her gaze was locked on the others, Jongho bleeding, Yunho’s burning eyes, Mingi’s clenched fists. She swallowed hard, silently praying they had a plan. And if they didn’t… Then she was going to make one herself.

Yunho slowly lifted both hands, palms open, voice low and steady, controlled rage beneath every syllable. “Darren,” he said, tone eerily calm. “Just give her to us… and we’ll let you go.”

Darren barked out a laugh so sharp it cracked through the gym like glass shattering. “Yeah…. right,” he scoffed. “You think I’m falling for that bullshit? You two have wanted me dead for weeks. Hell, longer.” He dragged Y/N tighter, the gun digging painfully against her jaw. “You hated me since day one. You think I don’t know that? Think I didn’t see the way you watched her?”

Mingi took a slow step down the bleachers, hands out. “Darren…”

“NO!” he screamed, jerking Y/N so violently her breath was knocked from her chest. “Stay where the fuck you are!” Y/N swallowed hard, pulse racing. Her fingers slowly curled behind her, gripping the handle of the knife she’d tucked into her jacket earlier. Metal. Cold. Solid. Her one shot.

Darren’s paranoia ramped higher with every breath. “I never liked you,” he spat, sneering at Yunho and Mingi. “Either of you. You think you’re scary? You think you’re tough? You’re nothing. Nothing.” His grip on her shifted, tight but sloppy. A mistake. Yunho saw it. Mingi saw it. So did Y/N.

Darren continued backing them up the bleachers, step by cautious step, forcing Yunho and Mingi to descend the other side, slowly, carefully, walking down past Jongho, who was slumped against the railing, clutching his shoulder, blood dripping onto the metal steps beneath him.

Jongho lifted his head, eyes meeting Y/N’s for a split second. A warning? A plea? A signal? She didn’t know. But she knew one thing, If she didn’t do something now, none of them were making it out.

She felt Darren shift behind her again, adjusting his grip, and she moved. Y/N twisted violently out of his hold, knee slamming into his thigh, elbow smacking his wrist. The gun clattered down the metal bleachers with a loud echoing clang as Darren grabbed at her again. “You little….”

They crashed onto the steps together, grappling, rolling, Darren’s fingers clawing at her throat, Y/N’s hand tightening around the hidden knife. Yunho and Mingi lunged forward, but they were seconds too far. Darren pinned Y/N on the stairs, snarling down at her, fury wild in his eyes and Y/N’s hand struck upward.

Once. The knife sank into his side. His breath hitched, but she didn’t stop. Twice. Three times. Four.

She didn’t even hear her own screams. Didn’t hear Darren’s choked gasps. Didn’t hear Yunho shouting her name or Mingi sprinting up the steps.

She just saw red.

Every shove. Every bruise. Every lie. Every humiliation.

Every night she’d woken up from nightmares that weren’t nightmares at all….

It all poured out of her in every violent thrust of the blade. She wasn’t stabbing him. She was ending him.

Darren’s grip faltered. His body slumped. But she didn’t stop, not until Yunho and Mingi reached her, grabbing her wrists, pulling her back before she hurt herself, before she lost herself.

“Y/N…. baby… stop, stop!” Yunho gasped, voice shaking as Mingi’s arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her off Darren’s lifeless body, his chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted miles.

But her eyes were still locked on Darren. On what she’d done as Yunho cupped her face, pulling her gaze to him. “You’re okay,” he whispered, breath trembling. “You’re okay. It’s over.”

Jongho staggered down the last few steps of the bleachers, one hand pressed hard against his bleeding shoulder, the other gripping the railing to keep himself upright. His face was pale, jaw clenched, eyes sharp even through the pain.

The wail of sirens rose outside the gym. Someone must of heard the gunshot. Red and blue lights began flashing faintly through the high windows.

Yunho’s head snapped toward the doors. Mingi’s chest heaved as he looked from the stairwell to Jongho to Y/N. They all knew what was about to happen.

Y/N pushed herself off Mingi, breath shaking, blood splattered across her arms and neck. She knelt and yanked the long black Ghostface robe off of Jongho’s body, his blood already staining the collar, then shoved it into Yunho’s hands. “Go,” she said urgently.

Neither of them moved. “Y/N,” Yunho breathed, voice cracking, “we’re not leaving you here…”

“You have to.” She grabbed Mingi’s wrist too, forcing the robe into his hand. “Both of you.”

“But…”

“SIRENS,” she snapped, pointing toward the windows as the lights grew brighter. “They’ll be here any second. You two cannot be found here. If the police catch you…”

Her voice faltered as she swallowed hard. “I’m not losing you.” Yunho’s eyes softened, and Mingi’s throat bobbed like he was swallowing broken glass.

They still didn’t move. So she pushed them, literally shoved Yunho backward toward the emergency exit. “GO!”

Mingi’s jaw trembled. Yunho hesitated another brutal second. Then they ran. Black robes clutched in their fists. Masks hidden inside them. Boots hitting the gym floor in desperate, pounding strides. Yunho looked back once, and the look he gave her nearly shattered her.

Y/N spun toward Jongho, rushing to him as he wavered on his feet. He blinked at her, dazed, breathing hard. “Y/N… what…. are you doing?” She ducked under his arm, slinging it over her shoulders, bracing his weight against her small frame. He stumbled, wincing, but let her guide him. She had a plan.

Because despite everything… he was still her best friend. Still the boy who held her on the floor a year ago. Still the one who checked on her every morning. Still the person she never expected to lose. “I have a plan.”

Jongho stared at her like she’d lost her mind, blood still trickling from the bullet wound in his shoulder. The knife trembled in his hand now as she handed it to him, slick with Darren’s blood. “I need you to stab me.”

“You’re insane,” he whispered hoarsely. “Y/N, I can’t…”

“You have to,” she said, low and urgent. “If they find me unharmed, they’ll start asking questions. Yunho and Mingi… we’ve come too far, Jongho.”

His eyes searched hers, like he was begging her to take it back. “You just killed a man.”

“You three saved me,” she replied, voice tightening. “Now let me save you.”

His breath hitched. A long beat. Then, through clenched teeth, he asked, “Where?” She took his hand and guided it, just under her ribs, off to the side, above her hip. “Here. Not too deep, just enough.”

Jongho nodded once, agony in his expression. His hand hovered. “On three,” she whispered. He didn’t wait for three. He struck quick. The blade went in fast but shallow, and the pain hit her like a tidal wave. She gasped, knees buckling as she slumped into him, clutching at his hoodie as her body went cold.

Blood rushed out warm and thick, soaking her shirt. Jongho caught her, holding her up as her head fell against his chest, his own body shaking. “Fuck… fuck, Y/N…”

“Good…” she whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “You did good…”

That’s when the first siren sounded outside and Jongho stiffened, hearing it draw closer, then doors banging open in the gym beyond them. Shouting. Footsteps. Flashlight beams dancing across the hallway walls.

He shifted his weight, lowering her to the floor gently, cradling her head. Y/N blinked slowly, her breaths short. “They’re here,” she murmured. Jongho nodded, brushing the hair from her face with a bloodied hand.

A second later, voices echoed around the hallway corner. “Go! Clear the right wing!”

“Y/N?” It was Seonghwa’s voice, sharp and panicked, followed by the unmistakable sound of Hongjoong’s boots hitting the floor hard behind him. They rounded the corner, flashlights landing on the blood. On Y/N. On Jongho.

“Help!” Jongho shouted, barely getting to his feet, blood running down his arm. “She… Darren… he stabbed her before I… before I got to him…. he’s dead, I think he’s dead, please!”

Seonghwa dropped to his knees beside her immediately, checking her wound, while Hongjoong radioed for a medic. “Stay awake, Y/N, come on,” Seonghwa murmured, voice gentle but tense. “You’re okay now.” Y/N opened her eyes weakly, just enough to meet Jongho’s. They both knew the story they were about to tell. And the one they’d just buried.

The overhead lights in the gym flickered faintly as EMTs rushed in behind Seonghwa and Hongjoong, one of them already dropping to Y/N’s side to check the bleeding. She winced as they pressed gauze to her side, breath stuttering, eyes glassy. Seonghwa stayed crouched beside her, his hand resting gently near her shoulder, not touching, but ready to ground her. “Y/N,” he said softly, “tell me what happened.”

She blinked slowly, then turned her head toward him. “He… Darren,” she rasped, voice shaking. “He called me. Told me to meet him in the quad. I thought… I thought he just wanted to talk.” Hongjoong crouched nearby, watching her closely. “I didn’t trust him. So I grabbed a knife from the common room,” she went on, words tumbling out fast, “just for protection, in case. But he saw me with Jongho, and he just… he snapped. Started saying I set him up.…” Her eyes flicked to Jongho, who was pressing gauze to his own bleeding shoulder. He gave her the faintest nod.

“He pulled out a gun,” Y/N said, the memory making her flinch. “Shot Jongho. And then…. he came at me. We fought. I managed to stab him once… just once…. and tried to run, but he got the knife from me. He…. he stabbed me.” Her voice cracked on that part, but she pushed through. “I tried to get away again, but he grabbed me… and I…. I got the knife back somehow. I don’t even remember how. And I just…” She trailed off, looking down at her blood soaked shirt. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just… I didn’t want to die.”

There was a heavy silence before Hongjoong stood slowly, exchanging a look with Seonghwa. The kind that said, she’s not lying and we had this all wrong. Seonghwa leaned in again, his voice softer now. “You’re okay, Y/N. You did what you had to.”

The EMT looked up. “She needs to be transported. Now.” Hongjoong nodded. “We’ll meet her there. And Jongho too, get that shoulder seen.”

Y/N caught Jongho’s wrist weakly as they lifted her onto the stretcher. “Keep it straight,” she whispered. “We match. Don’t mess it up.” Jongho gave her a tight, blood streaked smile. “We won’t.”

And as the stretcher rolled out under flashing red and blue lights, the lies solidified around them, sharp, deliberate, and dressed in truth.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The hospital emergency wing buzzed with low chatter, beeping monitors, and the faint smell of antiseptic. Y/N was somewhere behind double doors being stitched up. Jongho was down the hall in another room, getting the bullet removed. Outside both rooms, officers came and went, keeping watch while detectives spoke quietly among themselves.

Yunho and Mingi burst into the waiting area like they’d sprinted the whole way from campus, hair disheveled, still half dressed from the ghostface robes they’d tossed in a dumpster. Before they could get more than two steps inside, Seonghwa’s arm shot out across their chests, stopping them cold.

Hongjoong stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes sharp as blades. “Where were you two?” Seonghwa asked, voice low, serious but not accusing. Not anymore. Yunho swallowed hard. “We were getting ready to go to Y/N’s dorm…”

“To check on her,” Mingi added quickly, breath still uneven. “But when we got there,” Yunho continued, “she was already gone. And then..” He pointed toward the hallway. “Then Jongho called. Said they were hurt. Said they were here.”

A flicker of concern crossed Hongjoong’s face before the exhaustion returned. His voice was steady, measured, the way it always was when he was processing too much at once. “They were attacked,” he said quietly. “Y/N and Jongho.”

Mingi stiffened. “What? By who?”

Seonghwa exchanged a look with Hongjoong before answering. “Darren.”

Yunho and Mingi both went still. Too still. The kind of stillness only someone who is already guilty has to fake, but Seonghwa was too tired, too worried, too overwhelmed to notice. Hongjoong rubbed a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. “Apparently the sick bastard has been the killer this whole time. He lured Y/N out, went after her, shot Jongho, and then turned on her.”

Mingi let his jaw drop in disbelief, shaking his head dramatically. “You’re kidding. Dude killed his own dad?”

Yunho forced his brows to furrow, eyes widening just the right amount. “Is she okay? Jongho too?”

“Jongho will recover from the gunshot,” Seonghwa said. “Y/N’s wound wasn’t deep, thank god. She fought him off. They… they were lucky.” Hongjoong’s voice softened. “She saved Jongho’s life. And her own.”

Mingi exhaled shakily, letting his shoulders drop like he’d just been punched. Yunho covered his mouth with one hand, staring down at the floor like he was trying not to fall apart.

Hongjoong gave them each a firm pat on the shoulder. “She’ll want to see you when she wakes up.”

“Just… give the officers a little time,” Seonghwa added. “They’re taking statements and wrapping up the scene.”

Yunho nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Mingi echoed him softly. “We’ll stay.”

And no one questioned a damn thing. Not the blood on their sleeves they’d scrubbed off in the parking lot. Not the panic in their eyes that wasn’t fear, but fury at losing control of the plan. Not the way they kept glancing down the hallway toward the rooms where Y/N and Jongho were recovering.

They looked like worried friends. They looked innocent. And for the first time, everyone believed them.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Almost a month later and headlines had finally stopped. The campus quad, once overrun with yellow tape and cops, was back to being overrun with coffee carrying students and couples holding hands. Darren was officially named the killer. His photo was plastered across crime blogs and news sites, and every Reddit thread under the sun had already theorized his motivations a dozen different ways.

Y/N crossed the street with Jongho by her side, both moving a little slower than usual. She had a bandage peeking out from beneath the edge of her jacket, almost fully healed. Jongho’s shoulder was still sore, but he refused to wear the sling anymore. Said it made him look “too injured to be the hero,” whatever the hell that meant.

They pushed open the glass door to the café, a little bell jingling above them. The warmth inside smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and new beginnings. “Grab the window seat,” Y/N said, gesturing with her chin as she headed to the counter.

Jongho claimed the booth. A second later, Yunho and Mingi strolled in behind her, casual, a little late, but that had always been their style. Yunho’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. Mingi had sunglasses perched in his hair and that cocky little half smile he wore too easily. They still looked like trouble. Dangerous. And maybe they were. But to Y/N? They were hers.

They all sat around the table with coffees and fresh croissants, the kind that flaked everywhere and left sugar on the tips of fingers. It should’ve been awkward, three boys, one girl, scars fresh and headlines still lingering, but it wasn’t. Not with the way Yunho slipped her his phone to show her a meme he saved just for her. Not with the way Mingi tore his croissant in half and gave her the bigger piece without thinking. Not with the way Jongho sipped his drink and leaned back, watching them all like he was trying to memorize this rare moment of peace.

“So,” Jongho said after a quiet minute, “what now?” Y/N met Yunho’s eyes. Then Mingi’s. She gave a soft little smile that didn’t reach all the way up, but it was getting closer. “Now,” she said, “we live.”

“Even after everything?” Jongho asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Especially after everything.”

There was a pause, then Yunho reached for her hand under the table. Mingi’s knee bumped hers on purpose. Jongho stole her last bite of croissant just to make her roll her eyes.

Outside, life went on. Inside, the four of them sat at a little round table with blood still under their fingernails, secrets stitched between their ribs, and matching nightmares they’d never fully admit to. But they were alive.

And they were together. And sometimes, that was enough.

They lingered another ten minutes, finishing off crumbs and letting the warmth settle into the quiet corners of their bodies. Healing took time, but the laughter between them? That part came easy.

Eventually Yunho stretched, joints popping. “We should get going,” he murmured. Jongho stood carefully, his shoulder still stiff, and muttered, “Yeah, before the lunch rush traps us here forever.”

Mingi, however, was already halfway out of his chair. “Hold up, I’m getting another coffee. That last one was basically water.”

Jongho stepped outside, the cool air sweeping into the café as the door closed behind him. Y/N stayed seated a second longer, watching Mingi lean casually against the counter, waiting for his drink. Of course there was a girl beside him, pretty, wide eyed, hair tucked behind an ear as she giggled at something he said. Her hand brushed his arm. Twice.

Y/N stood. On her way to the counter, she leaned up and kissed Yunho softly, right on the mouth, murmuring, “I’m gonna grab myself another coffee too. Be right there.” He gave her that slow, warm smile she loved. “Don’t take too long.”

Mingi turned at the sound of her footsteps. “Hey, grab me another croissant, I forgot, chocolate this time, please! I’ll wait outside with Yunho and Jongho.” He slid past her, brushing a hand along her hip in that way he always did, claiming without saying a word, and disappeared out the door.

Y/N stepped up to order, the girl beside her still staring after Mingi like she was about to chase him into the street. Her coffee finished quickly. She grabbed the cup, and Mingi’s croissant, turned, and crossed directly into the girl’s space. Close enough that the girl flinched and Y/N smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” she said lightly, like they were friends. “Just a tip for the future?”

The girl blinked. “Um… sure?”

Y/N leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper warm enough to be mistaken for kindness. “You ever try flirting with my boyfriend again…” Her smile sharpened. “I’ll kill you.”

The girl’s face drained of color as Y/N straightened, gave her a soft pat on the shoulder like she’d just handed out study advice, then walked toward the door, hips swaying, coffee and croissant in hand.

Outside, her boys were waiting for her.

And she fit right between them like she always had.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

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tags: @cfake-peachb-blog @heartsforyeoo @blu-kyl @ennycutie @frzzenfrxg @hyuninslutbbgirl @auxiny @baw-sixteen @psychomingki

[dvrktvnnel]

this was the greatest thing i ever read oh my God. i stayed up until 4am reading this

[mulloey]

take it slow (just the tip)

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! corruption kink, soft virgin & innocent reader. typical ‘just the tip’ fic—nerves about having sex etc. mg is horny and desperate and so are you. he talks down/patronises you a bit but it’s all loving. unprotected sex, size kink, riding, breeding kink etc. you’re described as small by him.

You’re both pent up, you know that. It’s palpable—in the hot, heavy air, in the weight of his hands on your skin and the tension between you on the couch. The fervour of his every movement; every gasp for breath between hot, messy, desperate kisses across your skin. Eyes hooded. Breathing heavy. Jaw twitching like he’s trying not to crack.

Your skin is flushed, sweaty; his hands move across your chest and neck and thighs with a hurriedness, like he’s trying to drink you in, every inch of you, before you slip away and he never has the chance to.

You’ve never been wanted—needed—like this. It scares you just as much as it excites you. Maybe more.

Because Mingi is a man of passion—that was clear to you very early on—in everything he is and everything he does. And being the object of that passion is no small thing; it’s a fire that spreads without restraint and scorches everything in its path. Including you. Including him.

His hands reach under your ass to pull you up and onto his lap, straddling him with your legs on either side. You feel him under you—hard, throbbing, straining against his pants—and your body reacts to it instinctively; your gut twists and your cunt clenches around nothing; your hips buck, slowly at first, then faster and more desperate until your clothed pussy is grinding shamelessly against his bulge.

You’re not in control now; that much is clear. Desperation has boiled over until your head couldn’t contain it anymore and it’s seeped down into your cunt.

“Fuck,” Mingi groans into your mouth. “Baby, fuck.”

”Min,” you whine. “Min. Feels so—”

He pulls back fully, all of a sudden, holding your face in his hands and forcing your gaze on him. His eyes are blazing, pupils blown like he’s already lost control. His hands are practically shaking with need, but at the same time you feel the steadiness, the strength in his hold on you. The safety. “I can make you feel better,” he gruffs. “Better than this. Better than anyone.”

You know he can. He already has made you feel better than anyone, just from the way he’s touched you over your clothes and talked and praised you through each tiny movement. But you know what he’s getting at—what he actually wants. And you want it too—fuck do you want it too—you just…

You chew at your lip, hesitant; nervous. His gaze fixes on it briefly, eyes narrowing some. “But I’ve never— you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” His words are soft now, murmured; careful, but his eyes flash with something you don’t understand. A small smile pulls at his lips, all softness and fondness. “My sweet girl, aren’t you? So innocent. Unused. Never done anything.”

“Min,” you whine, flushing a little at the condescension in his tone—patronising without mocking, but still enough to make you squirm.

“Baby,” he coos. “You know I’ll go slow, right? You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll ease you into it, too. Open you up for me, nice and slow. Nice and easy. Just the tip, ‘til you’re ready for the rest. You trust me, right?”

“I do.” Of course you do. At this point Mingi could put a knife to your throat and you’d lean into the blade if he told you it was safe to.

He kisses you again; harder, more forceful, verging on painful but still firmly on the side of pleasure. “Keep grinding, sweetheart,” he mutters. “Babe, fuck. Pull that little skirt up for me, I wanna see you.”

He folds the hem of it between his fingers; the little miniskirt you wore for your date today. The skirt that had made his face harden, darken momentarily until he got ahold of himself again. The skirt he couldn’t take his eyes off of until he got you home.

But even now, he waits. Doesn’t push it up himself—waits for you to oblige or to refuse.

You oblige, of course. You know from the way his pupils dilate even further when you do that your panties must be soaked. His voice comes out strangled, like there’s a lump sitting unyielding and pulsing in his throat. “Fucking hell,” he grits. “Little panties all wet n’ soiled. Is that for me, baby? That all from grinding against my dick like an unspayed puppy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, nodding dumbly. “Mingi, please.”

“I got you,” he says. “Can I touch it, baby? Feel how wet you are for me?”

His voice is hoarse, clearly affected. You nod eagerly; he huffs out a low, shuddered breath and slowly moves one hand to cup your heat. It sends a pulse through your body like an electric current. “Perfect,” he breathes. “You feel that? Your pussy is throbbing on my hand, baby.”

“I feel it,” you nod. Fuck, it feels good. Mingi is so big and strong and warm and as much as it scares you, you think you’d let him do anything right now. “Min…”

“M’here,” he mumbles. “Holding your little pussy for you, just like you need. You don’t know what to do with it, do you?”

You whine; his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze and his lips curl in a small, knowing smile. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “You’re just helpless, aren’t you? Need me to show you how to feel good. Will you let me?”

“I just— it’s a little scary, Min.”

“That’s okay, honey,” he says softly. “I won’t go in yet, yeah? Just gonna rub my dick up and down the outside, see? You’re already gushing for me there, you’ll hardly feel it.”

His finger slips into your panties, hooking around the crotch and pulling it to the side. Your pussy, now bare and exposed to him, throbs a little harder. “Min…” You gasp. The air hits your cunt like a shiver down your spine; Mingi’s eyes fixed firmly on it like it’s the sweetest and most aggravating sight he’s ever seen feels even more biting. Just the feeling of him, holding you in his lap and staring at your cunt like he wants to take it apart and is struggling to hold himself back, is unlike anything you’ve imagined.

From your very first day with him, Mingi’s been your protector. Your safety—and he still is.

Yet now, like his, he somehow feels a little like a predator too.

And you, for some reason, are desperate for him to strike.

“You’re pulsing,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. “Fuck, baby, I can see you throbbing for me.”

“I need you,” you whimper. The words are coming now of their own accord.

“Pull my dick out,” he says. You falter a little and he smiles softly, shifting you on his lap. “C’mon, tiny. Nothing to be scared of. It’s not gonna hurt you.”

“It might,” you mumble. “You’re big.”

You swear Mingi’s eyes flash; his hand on your waist feels a little heavier now, like there’s suddenly more hunger, more possessiveness behind it. More intention.

“I’m big?” He chuckles. You nod. “I’m big, yeah. Or maybe you’re just tiny. I won’t hurt you though, honey. I told you we’ll take it slow, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Take it out then,” he says. “Be good for me, bunny.”

Your hands are shaking as you pull his dick out from his sweats; you’ve seen it before, of course, felt the hard outline of it when he’s pressed up behind you in bed—but this is different. This is going inside you.

It’s long and thick; rock hard and already leaking from the tip. “Fuck,” you breathe. “Min…”

“You like it?” He grins. You nod. “Good,” he says. “It’s yours. You can fuck yourself on it whenever you like, sweetheart. A big thick toy for my pretty little girl.”

“Please,” you mewl.

“You’re fine, baby,” he says. “Can you lift your hips for me, love?”

You obey, lifting yourself so you’re kneeling over him.

He grips the base of his dick, pumping it once, twice, three times, before his other arm wraps around your waist and pulls you down so your ass is resting on him and your pussy is pressed against the side of his shaft. You groan, the feeling of sending a spark of electricity through your body, and his cock twitches. “Fuck,” he gruffs. “Stay still, baby. Not gonna go in yet, just gonna fuck the outside, yeah? Where you’re all nice and slippery for me. Nice n’ wet already.”

“Okay,” you breathe.

It feels… strange. Good, definitely, but strange. Like you’re being teased. Every time his tip brushes against your clit you feel it through your entire body, to the tips of your toes and in the deepest crevices; your reaction to everything Mingi does, at this point, feels primal.

The way he groans, head thrown back in pleasure, feels primal too.

“Shit,” he grunts. “I gotta—fuck. This little cunt is so sweet, baby, so needy for me, I gotta fuck her. Need to.”

His dick is throbbing almost violently, pulsing against your clit and making you needier and needier. You want it—him—so bad you can’t even speak any more. You just whine, squirming, chasing the sensation and the pressure against your clit.

“C’mon,” Mingi says. “Let me in, baby. You want me inside, I can feel it.”

You nod. “Yeah,” you gasp.

“Tell me I can, then,” he grits out. “Tell me I can put it in. Just the tip, baby, please.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “The— just the tip, Min. Put it in.”

Mingi shudders; you feel it rippling through him, his grip tightening. He groans, adjusting himself, then slowly pushes in. “Thank you, baby. Just the tip, I promise. You’re being so brave, honey.”

Even from the tip you can feel the size difference between you; can tell taking him in his entirety will be no small task. The thought alone is dizzying; you’re squirming, trying and failing to stay still as he goes in deeper.

And deeper.

You hiss, muscles clenching, clawing at the material of his shirt. “Mingi,” you squeak. “It’s— what are you doing?”

He stops, freezing inside you, seeming to realise what he’s doing and getting a hold of himself again. But he doesn’t pull out—doesn’t back away. His eyes flicker up to your face, searching for something—a reaction, maybe, or a desperation you won’t admit. “Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry, baby, fuck, I just— you’re so warm, honey, so tight and wet, I’m losing my head a little. You make me crazy, you know that?”

You shake your head. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut, jaw clenching like he’s clinging to his composure. “You make it so hard to be gentle,” he says. “To hold back. I can’t think of anything but taking you apart right now. Filling you up. Fuck, baby.”

Fuck. Now neither can you. You whine, eyes squeezed shut, trying to think of anything else—anything but being ruined and claimed and bred by him.

But the image of him all the way inside, of you falling apart around him, of his cum dripping out of your stretched cunt—it’s too much. It’s too good.

You know you’re thinking with your pussy and not your head right now, and you don’t even care. You can’t care.

“Please,” you say. “Do it, Mingi. Fill me up.”

You feel him twitch inside you. His eyes soften, caring, a little concerned, but still the desperation and the excitement is overarching. “Are you sure?” He asks.

“I’m sure.”

He exhales, the breath slow and shaking, and nods. Then he starts again.

Slowly. Surely. But still dizzying.

You love how large Mingi is; how small and safe you feel with him. Now, though, you wonder if it’s possible to be too big.

“Shit,” you hiss.

“I know, I know, baby. Just open up for me, you can do it. That’s a good girl.”

He pushes his thumb past your lips, pressing it down on your tongue. “Make it wet,” he says. “That’s it.” Once he’s satisfied he pulls it out, smiling fondly at the whine that slips out of your mouth at the loss, and presses it against your clit. He rubs it slowly, firmly, the way he knows you like it.

Of course he knows. He’s the one who taught you how to touch yourself properly, after all.

You clench around him, pulsing, shifting yourself to chase the pressure on your clit and inadvertently pushing yourself down further on his cock. His voice is low, crooning, like he’s coaxing you open for him. “I’ll never hurt you, baby. Just wanna feel what s’like inside you. Doing so well f’me, that’s it.”

“Fuck,” you grunt. “Min, hurts—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Just for a little longer, okay? You’re gonna feel so full n’ fuzzy in a minute. Try and sit down for me, baby, try sit yourself down on my cock.”

It feels impossible, pushing yourself down any further than you already are; taking him any deeper than you already are. But Mingi is so gentle—stroking your skin, mumbling praises you can barely decipher—and he, both of you, wants it so fucking bad that all you can do is obey.

“That’s it,” he grumbles. “Good girl. C’mon now.”

By the time you get all the way to the bottom, your bodies pressed together, he’s almost crying. He looks like he’s trying not to shatter.

“Mingi,” you say. “Fuck me.”

“You’re ready? Really?”

“Really.”

You’re on your back, flipped over, legs around his waist while he hovers above you, before you can process it. Mingi’s eyes are dark, pupils blown and glinting with a desperation so hot it feels like it scorches your skin beneath it.

“Hold onto me,” he grunts. “You’re not getting it gentle.”

You squeeze your legs around him, pulling him closer, curling his shirt around your fists. Holding him like a lifeline; like he’s the only thing stopping you from shattering entirely.

At the same time, though, he’s the only thing that can make you shatter so completely and so thoroughly. He fucks you like he has nothing to lose, nothing to prove; like he’s entirely sure of himself and sure of his control. Like he can just take, take, take, and you’ll do nothing but stare up at him with wide, empty, loving eyes and give him everything he wants.

He’s right. Even when he finishes, when he falls over the edge with a shout and warmth blooms in your tummy, he keeps thrusting, keeps the same heavy grip on your waist like every inch of your skin belongs to him.

And when he pulls out and cum slowly starts to drip from your hole, he gathers it on his finger and pushes it back in.

“Keep it there,” he murmurs, smiling softly, tiredly at you. “You look so pretty full of me.”

[dvrktvnnel]

oh this was GOOOOOD

[dvrktvnnel]

IM COMING BACK I PROMISE 🙏🙏🙏 i had a busy few weeks but im abt to have a week off from work so buckle up cuz i gotta finish these fics

[sugarbabymingi]

dry humping ft. mingi

a/n: happy birthday to me! tumblr tried keeping this from the public but I fought tooth and nail to present to yall, my horny ramblings

tw: menstrual cycle mention, breeding kink, dry humping, swearing

you’re in the kitchen fixing up a snack after your shower, period cravings damning you to the inescapable hell of never-ending hunger. mingi sits on the couch none the wiser, selecting a show to watch as he waits for you to take your spot beside him. you sigh to yourself as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, an all too familiar ache in your stomach reminding you of the one thing you can’t have right now— not without a mess, anyway. it’s the worst part of getting your period, truly, forget the cramps and the fatigue… you craved your boyfriend in ways that would set back feminism decades.

mingi curiously looks over to see what you’re up to, wondering if you need help with the snacks with the dazed expression on your face. he gets up, ever the helpful gentleman. “everything okay, baby? need help?”

you almost want to laugh at how comical your dilemma is, except it’s not funny and you feel you might die if you don’t have him inside you this very instant. you settle for a huff, “it’s not fair…”

he’s crossed the space between the living and the kitchen with only a few steps, his cologne leaving a stupid trail in his wake as he takes his place behind you, warm hands finding your waist. his cold rings are a drastic contrast to the fire you feel stinging at your skin, you can’t help but grip the counter and press your hips back against him. mingi is frozen behind you, utterly taken aback. “jagiya… you okay?”

you let out a frustrated whine, swallowing thickly before testing out a subtle circling of your hips. the friction isn’t enough. you need more. “mingi, it hurts.”

his eyes widen as it finally dawns on him, grip stiffening ever so slightly. mingi slides your hair over to one shoulder, exposing the delicate skin on the nape of your neck. his plush lips place a soft kiss, lingering before he cages you against the counter, leaning to whisper directly into your ear with a tone that has you wanting to bare a child or two for him. “my needy little princess, what does she want, hm?”

your boyfriend knows exactly what you need, he always does. he just wants to hear you say it in that desperate, whiny pitch. the same tone that makes his cock twitch in his pants much like it’s doing right now beneath the loose fabric of his plaid pajama pants. you smell fresh, like the fancy body wash that you reserve for the nights you want a little extra pampering. mingi can’t help but to sigh against your neck, inhaling the delicious citrusy notes mingling with your natural scent.

his content little hums bring your floaty mind back to the question he’d asked you. you fight back another wave of shivers as he continues to plaster wet kisses along your shoulders. “baby, please I need you.”

you turn within the limited space between his arms to face him, his black tank top doing him many favors. he’s even wearing the cursed silver chain you got him for an anniversary a few years back, he looks so effortlessly handsome and your hormone-wrecked body recognizes it. what’s more— you crave him. your hands trail up his arms, feeling up his biceps before landing on his delectable shoulders that you so desperately wish to sink your teeth in, later, you think. mingi looks just as wrecked as you, just a fool so hopelessly devoted to his partner that a mere bat of your lashes renders him putty in your hands.

“yeah? poor thing, you seem so upset. need me to make it better don’t you, pretty girl?” he coos, rubbing circles into your lower back.

your head gets a little hazy as he practically oozes with sensuality and confidence, long gone the dorky boyfriend from moments ago on the couch. he suddenly seems so much bigger than you when his chest is this close to your face, cologne engulfing you in a fuzzy cloud of earthy notes. your fingers twirl the dark, shaggy strands of hair curling behind his ear as you reach up to smile into the side of his neck. “won’t you touch me, please mingi?”

your boyfriend crumbles under the saccharine tone of your voice, picking you up with hefty hands underneath each of your thighs and carries you to the sofa. he sets you down before laying down himself and gesturing for you to sit on top, knowing you probably don’t want any sort of pressure on your abdomen right now. the gods could not have crafted a more perfect boyfriend if they tried.

“this okay, my girl?” he wants to make sure you’re comfortable with the position and the situation, of course.

you smile and lean down to kiss him, “yes, baby. not gonna let a stupid menstrual cycle get in between me and my man.”

mingi lets out a small groan at the subtle possessive lilt in your voice, hand immediately moving to grip your thigh as he melts against your lips. your strawberry lip gloss tingles against his lips, he thinks it must be the plumping one he got you a few weeks ago.

“your man? yeah, baby?”

you nod and whine with a roll of your hips against his.

he chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest that sends goosebumps through your body. “then go ahead and rut those pretty hips against your man.”

your body succumbs to his request almost involuntarily, chasing the delicious friction with each drag of your hips over his plaid pajama pants. you can feel the hardness through the thin layers of clothing between you, a reminder of what would be waiting for you in a few days when you’re finished with your period but for now? this will have to do. his big hands squeeze and pull at your ass, sneaking under the thin material of your tiny little shorts to feel for the soft skin underneath.

you throw your head back, propping yourself up with two hands against his firm chest as the ache in your stomach slowly morphs into a growing ball of tension— the good kind. your boyfriend looks so good underneath you, hair messy strewn about and puffy, pink lips pouted in concentration as he guides you back and forth. you could cum just from the sight.

“fuck— baby, think I’m gonna-”

mingi cuts you off with a roll of his hips as he starts to thrust up against you desperately, his boxers growing a small wet patch of precum. “cum, princess. let go for me, please.”

you begin to bounce on his clothed cock as if you were truly riding him and it’s at this moment you thank yourself for wearing a tampon over a pad because then you’d truly be missing out on the way his cock twitches for you even through the clothes. it’s desperate and pathetic the way you cry out for him, egged on by a ghost feeling of how deep he could be inside you if it weren’t for your stupid underwear. you think back to the times you were blessed enough to ride him in the past and swear to yourself the second you’re in the clear, you’re milking him dry— perhaps when you’re ovulating and fertile, then you really wouldn’t have to worry about any more stupid periods.

“gonna let you fuck a baby into me when this is over, want it so fucking bad.”

this sends your poor boyfriend into overdrive as he now abandons all thoughts except for the one screaming at him to make you a mother. he’s sputtering out unintelligible nonsense along the lines of “fuck yes.” and “wanna cum for you.” he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been plaguing his mind lately, what with you both having just hit your five year anniversary mark and bought your very first home together— his mother eagerly hinting at her desire for grandchildren sure didn’t help either. he really shouldn’t be thinking about his mother right now though.

“mingi, please… so close.”

you reach for his hand and place back onto his chest, now engulfing your own. he can’t help but throw his head back at the pleasure creeping up on him. the very thought of knowing that he has a ring waiting for you upstairs tucked away in his sock drawer is what sets him off, god, your hands already looked beautiful before but he can’t help but picture them adorned with a giant diamond to make it official.

your wreck of a boyfriend takes matters into his own hands and tightens his single-handed grip on your thigh as he pulls you down harder against him. he can’t help but moan at the way your puffy clit catches on his cock each and every time you roll your hips. he’s so fucking close, chest heaving with uneven breaths as he focuses on bringing you to the edge right along with him.

“cum with me, pretty girl. just like that.” he grunts, holding you steady as you tremble above him, thighs clenching around him as you cum in your panties.

he’s not far behind, just a few more thrusts and he’s blowing his load through his boxers and leaking through his pants. his chest is tainted red as he slowly works himself back down from his orgasm, cradling you into his chest as you whimper quietly from the intensity.

“i love you.” you whisper meekly, cheek pressed up against where his heart is beating.

mingi’s heart is surely pumping loud enough for you to tell, though he hopes you’ll spare him the embarrassment and choose not to acknowledge it. giddy with the fact that he’ll be popping the question soon, he responds with a gentle kiss to your head, “I love you more, my girl.”

[dvrktvnnel]

FUCK THIS WAS SO GOOD

[kysstar]

9:46 | SONG MINGI

flufftober' 25,, day six! song mingi | xfem!reader + bf!mingi

main masterlist flufftober masterlist

The sweater hangs off you like it was made to drown you. The sleeves swallow your hands, the hem nearly hitting your thighs, and the neckline droops just enough that a bit of your collarbone peeks out. You’re padding around the apartment, half-distracted, searching for your mug of tea that’s probably gone cold by now.

Mingi watches from the couch, elbow propped on the armrest, lips curving into a slow grin. There’s something about seeing you in his clothes that makes his chest feel too full. Maybe it’s the way you look so at home in them. Or maybe it’s just the simple fact that you’re his.

“You’re gonna stretch that,” he says quietly, voice carrying that lazy morning warmth that always gives him away.

You glance at him over your shoulder. “You mean your favorite sweater?”

He hums, a teasing lilt in his tone. “The one I was planning to wear today.”

You smile, soft and shameless, tugging one sleeve over your hand. “Guess I beat you to it.”

He doesn’t argue. Instead, he gets up and crosses the room, barefoot on the wooden floor. The second his arms slip around you from behind, you melt into him without thinking. His hands settle at your waist, thumbs brushing the hem of the sweater, warm against your skin.

“You look better in it anyway,” he murmurs against your hair.

You laugh quietly, tilting your head back to rest against his shoulder. His breath touches your ear when he speaks again. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

His heartbeat is steady against your back. You can feel it when he sways you gently side to side, like there’s music only he can hear. It’s the kind of quiet moment that doesn’t need words — the soft hum of the heater, the smell of his shampoo, your fingers tracing lazy circles over his forearm.

He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, unhurried. You let out a small sigh that makes him smile again.

“Comfortable?” he asks.

“More than comfortable,” you mumble, voice muffled as you tug the sweater closer.

He chuckles and rests his chin on your shoulder, eyes half-lidded, content. “You can keep it.”

“Thought you said I’d stretch it,” you tease.

“Worth it.”

© kysstar

[dvrktvnnel]

THIS IS SO CUTE MY HEART

[dvrktvnnel]

if i had saved my yunho fic for this week instead like i ALMOST did, it woulda been perfect timing bc his MV drops tomorrow

(im not prepared)

[norixseaweed]

I have no idea what you said i was distracted by Mingis titties

[sugarbabymingi]

same

[norixseaweed]

cutie

never be afraid to speak your mind we will accept you

[dvrktvnnel]

yes yes dont be shy! we all get feral over Mingi >:3

(all of ateez for that matter good LORD)

[k-hotchoisan]

backseat serenade

<mingi x fem!reader>

Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi

word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)

a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn  @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921

networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

“Who else is here?” You ask. 

She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces. 

And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram. 

“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours. 

You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”

“That’s-“

“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression. 

“You know him?”

“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth. 

He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.

You blink. The fuck?

And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life. 

It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.

You decide to find your friend and call it a night.

“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist. 

“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures. 

You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi. 

You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person. 

You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door. 

But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”. 

“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head. 

“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him. 

“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh. 

“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”

Right. You nod in defeat. 

Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin—especially your thighs. 

His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind. 

“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”

You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden. 

Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put. 

The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you. 

Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch. 

Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear. 

“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.” 

You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer. 

And you wonder how far you should take this. 

Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties. 

The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress. 

Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart. 

His deep voice is like a melody in your ear,  “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”

You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air. 

You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical. 

You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.

“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”

You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation. 

Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.” 

His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point. 

Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out. 

You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet. 

His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again. 

You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet. 

Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.  

“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit. 

“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon. 

“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”

His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers. 

But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 

His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you. 

“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more. 

The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.

“Y/n!”

Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark. 

“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building. 

“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile. 

And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door. 

Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment. 

You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it. 

You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter. 

And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell. 

“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off. 

“I try to make the most out of it”, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him. 

Mingi pauses, staying near the door.

“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“ 

His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed. 

“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away. 

For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights. 

His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven. 

You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants. 

His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you. 

His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more. 

“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”

Oh, fucking gods. 

“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger. 

You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out. 

Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again. 

It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants. 

So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink. 

His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy. 

“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp. 

“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you. 

And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses. 

You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat. 

You sure know how to push his buttons. 

He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb. 

“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out. 

You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more. 

“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip. 

“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”

“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“

Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high. 

“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath. 

Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his. 

“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you. 

But he pulls you along with him. 

“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”

[dvrktvnnel]

9ę*+° Wip Wednesday 9ę*+°

@jiminbility

i almost missed it, BUT i found one that i was playing around with that i could post 😼 thank you for tagging me!

☝️make a new post!

✌️post any wip from your drafts (anything- an idea, a concept, one sentence or 1000 words, whatever you want to share)

🫰tag 5 people!!!

No pressure Tag (especially cuz its late now💀) : @vampzity @h4untedgrl @scarfac3 @dollywoo @sugarbabymingi

MDNI !!!

mingi phases : just a few head cannons of the different mingi phases and how they might do the deed 🫡

Bouncy? Riding.

Mingi the cowboy loves watching you ride him like a bull and hearing you scream his name out. His hat on your head tipping to the side while he bucks under you, hands on your waist to keep you from falling off too early. He taunts and teases you, challenging you to stay on and take it. Which you do, you ride him until he finally fills you up and its dripping onto the motel bed.

Lemon drop? Pegging.

He’ll bend himself over on the hood of that car and let you fuck him from behind with a strap on till hes a whimpering mess. No more needs to be said. (yet…)

In Your Fantasy? In his lap.

That seat they were talking about? Yeah, it was his. He wants to watch you fall apart on his thigh with your shirt off so he squeeze or suck your tits. His voice is low in your ear, whispering all the dirty things he’s going to do to you once you cum. He’ll push you down harder while he flexes his thigh until you make a mess on his fancy suit.

Autobahn? In the back of his sportscar.

He likes it in the backseat of his car. Foggy windows and your clothes left in the front, your sweat and cum mixing on the expensive leather, the car rocking with each thrust. The windows are so tinted no one can see what's happening inside, and the music is loud on the radio they cant hear you screaming his name out.

Roar? In the club. (yes im talking abt it up again)

When he's drunk at the club, or any party for that matter, grinding against your ass on the dance floor and pulling your head back for sloppy kisses. His dick is hard in a matter of minutes, then he's dragging you to the wall so you can suck him off while he downs another shot of who knows what.

Eternal sunshine? Sweet and gentle.

Rolling around in the grass while the sun sets with hushed giggles and discreet touches until he can't get enough of how sweet you taste and how warm you are compared to the cool breeze. He’ll tug you into his lap and nuzzle into your neck whispering sweet promises of building a family with you.

hope yall liked this, i didn’t really plan on posting this one yet, BUT it was fun to put together :3 lemme know if yall want me to do more of these or if there are any specific eras or other members you’d like me to write☝️🙂‍↕️

[dvrktvnnel]

if i had saved my yunho fic for this week instead like i ALMOST did, it woulda been perfect timing bc his MV drops tomorrow

(im not prepared)

[norixseaweed]

I have no idea what you said i was distracted by Mingis titties

[dvrktvnnel]

LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

[norixseaweed]

Listen its not my fault his titties are in my face

[minjoongsgirlie]

Valid

[dvrktvnnel]

ESPECIALLY when it comes to mingi like

[dvrktvnnel]

if i had saved my yunho fic for this week instead like i ALMOST did, it woulda been perfect timing bc his MV drops tomorrow

(im not prepared)

[norixseaweed]

I have no idea what you said i was distracted by Mingis titties

[dvrktvnnel]

LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

[dvrktvnnel]

if i had saved my yunho fic for this week instead like i ALMOST did, it woulda been perfect timing bc his MV drops tomorrow

(im not prepared)

[dvrktvnnel]

breathless - j. yunho

genre - smut MDNI !!!

pairing - actor!yunho x makeup artist!reader

word count - 1k

warnings - choking, fingering, slightly public?, little bit of dirty talk

summary - you can’t take your eyes off Yunho’s hands while he’s shooting, and he gives you a taste of what they can do

Yunho’s scene was breathtaking, literally. The way his big hand wrapped around the other actress’s throat, squeezing tight enough to make the veins in his hands bulge. The metal claws adorning his fingers dug into her skin, blood dripping from the wounds as he squeezed the life out of her with an emotionless smile. The woman acted out her death by his hand, another victim to his murderous character.

When the cameras cut, he helped her stand upright again like a gentleman. A contrast to the killer he was moments ago.

You were dazed off replaying the scene in your mind while touching up his makeup. Holding his hand in yours while he towered over you, adding a bit more blood and dirt to his lovely skin. You almost felt bad tainting him like this, but the darker part of you just found it so hot.

Yunho of course noticed this. It was hard to miss the way you were looking at his hands like he’d just whipped out his cock. You traced over the veins on the backbof his hand with the brush so slowly. Unable to resist, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over it.

“What are you doing?” Yunho asked.

You snapped your head up, meeting his curious gaze. Fuck.

“Your makeup.”

“Looked like you were enjoying it a little more than usual?”

You looked back down to his hand, determined not to let him see the way you blushed. Yunho knew exactly what he was doing. It was no secret that everyone loved his hands, and he absolutely used it to his advantage.

“No, I was just concentrating.”

“Don’t lie to me, you liked that scene a lot didn't you?”

Oh.

You kept your head down and didnt answer. Something about the tone of his voice nearly made your knees buckle.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, leaning down to whisper. “You want my hands on your pretty neck dont you?”

He lifted your chin with two of his fingers to make you nod your head, it took all of your strength not to collapse then and there.

“Tell me.”

“Y-yes.”

His hand slid from your chin to your neck, his long fingers resting lazily around your throat. He gave a light sueez to test how much you liked it, eliciting a gasp the made him smirk. You didnt just want it, you needed it.

“Mmm, you like it?” he whispered, keeping his mouth close to your ear.

You nodded, closing your eyes when he squeezed you tighter. It was just enough to make it hard to breathe, but not impossible. His other hand found your waist, his thumb brushing up under your shirt to rub your skin.

“Keep your eyes open for me, princess.”

In an instant you obeyed, locking your eyes on his. The way he looked sent chills down your spine. It felt like you were under a spell, a fuzzy feeling in your head while he squeezed and loosened his hand around your neck. You could feel him so perfectly, every bone and muscle in his sinful hands. It was agonizing bliss and you had to squeeze your thighs together, drawing his attention lower.

“You need some more?”

Another nod, you pleaded with your eyes knowing your words would fail you. He pressed a kiss right under your ear, his lips felt like fire on your skin. The hand on your hip slid to the front, swiftly undoing your belt to slip his hand inside.

He didnt touch you properly like had hoped, his long finger rubbing over your now soaked panties. A breathless moan snuck out at the feeling and he squeezed you tighter to cut it off.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he cooed. “Stay quiet for me.”

He pushed the tips of his fingers into your folds, the fabric keeping him from fully penetrating you. You let out a soft whine but were careful to stay quiet.

“P-please, Yunho.”

You could feel him smiling against your ear, his two fingers pushing your panties to the side to gather your slick. He started so slow, dragging them through your folds and teasing your hole, rubbing your clit just enough to get you close without tipping you over the edge. All the while, his other stayed tight around your throat.

He guided you back until you hit his vanity, encouraging you to sit up on it. Again you obediently obeyed, spreading your legs for him. Finally, he pushed a finger into you, dragging it in and out a few times before adding the second, then the third. All you could was hold onto his wrists and let your head fall back against the mirror.

“Mmm, feel good princess? You like being my little victim?”

“s’good,” you barely got out.

A knock on the door made you jump, but he didnt stop or pull away. You gave him a frightened look, if anyone caught the two of it would be hell to pay.

“Yunho, cameras roll in five,” said an assertive voice.

“We’re almost done,” Yunho answered smoothly, as if he werent choking and finger fucking you on his vanity.

“Isnt that right, princess?” he said to you, his voice low and sexy. All you could do was let out a breathless sigh.

You were practically shaking, the lack of oxygen and his fingers fucking you stupid. His hands were so much better than you imagined, thrusting deep into your heat and rubbing your clit with the sole purpose of making you cum quickly. You could yourself getting closer and closer, squeezing your thighs together on his wrist.

“That’s it, cum for me,” he said.

His seductive voice and the constricting feeling around your neck was the last push you needed. Your body tensed and you came hard on his hand. He worked you through it, keeping his fingers deep inside and hitting that perfect spot. When he finally let you go and pulled his hands away, you nearly fell onto him. He held your head up by your chin, making eye contact as he licked his fingers clean of your juices. The sight alone made your heart skip a beat.

“Such a good girl,” he said. “You can return the favor after this next scene, yeah?”

a/n : AH HA! i posted the day i planned (its almost a week late but lets not focus on that) anyways i hope you all enjoyed! the next one will drop friday :3

taglist: @vampzity @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @losrpark @dollywoo @velvetmoonlght @cortis0lll @kittykat-25 @lxqyn @cherryandsugar @choreomvnia @emilysecresy

[ateez only] @nopension

if you want to be tagged in any stories, let me know here!