Hi, it's come to my attention that still many girlies don't know how to find the right bra size. I know how difficult it is to gind a good fitting bra, so I thought I'd share what to pay attention to when trying bras.
I used to work at Hunkemöller (in case you don't know, it's a bra brand like Victoria's Secrets). While working there I had to do online workshops on sizing and the perfect fit, general stuff about the bra industry etc so I'm not just saying these things without background knowledge.
First of all, the sizing of bras is individual for every brand because, sadly, there is not exactly a norm for bra types, cuts, cups, and sizes. It also differs for countries/the country where the brand is from, it's it's from a brand that specializes on bras like VS or Hunkemöller, Intimisimi, or if it's a normal clothing store like H&M.
Generally, when fitting a bra, find one where (preferably someone else e.g. a friend) can put 2 fingers comfortably under the band in the back when you stand up straight. The bra should be put on the most loose hooks, so when the bra loses tension from wearing it, you can put it in the tighter hooks. That way you can wear it longer.
Normally, this can be measured with the circumfence of your ribcage under our chest (EU sizes at least) but if it feels too tight and uncomfortable, feel free to go up one circumfence size. E.g. for my German size, I wear 75 bra in circumfence, but my actual circumfence is 70 when measured, but most of the time, it feels uncomfortable for me.
For the cup (lace and firm), it's more difficult because for some brands, if the circumfence is higher, the cups grow, and for some, it doesn't. So here are some things to look for:
The cup frame should go under your boob and end in a line with your armpits. That's where your muscle goes and is a good way to see if the cup really fits your chest and encases all of it. This also gives the best support and stability, no matter your size.
The cup or lace should not be too loose. If the straps are adjusted (you should be able to fit 2 fingers comfortably under it as well) and the cup is not sitting correctly, it's not fitting. It shouldn't cut in at the top, nor be so loose that you can look inside when you look down. It's supposed to gently lift and hold it, not squeeze it in, nor have it free floating.
For the big boob girlies, I was taught to recommend the lace bras with a bar frame underneath for stability and thick shoulder straps. I do not have big boobs so I can not tell if it is better or not, but in the end of the day you should feel comfortable in the bra, so take whichever type feels most comfortable for you and can support your chest and not cause/reduce back pain. Again, it should not cut in at the top of your boobs. If you have medium big boobs you can also go for one of the bras with the enlonged sides over the rib cage and corset like frame in the sides for more stability and lift. But be careful with those! If body type is more on the curvy side, these can cut in over time, especially when you're sitting and hut you and also bend the corset frame to stand away from your body!
For my small boob girlies, you won the lottery, you can probably wear nearly every bra type. If you want them to look bigger, please remember that a push-up bra is not everything. A good fitted bra with a firm cup can also make your boobs look fuller without actually pushing them up. Also, lace bras without a firm cup can also look very nice. When you have small boobs there is the high possibility of having the cup empty at the top. That bra might not be for you, try a different type, e.g. the tear drop shape. At Hunkemöller e.g. 'Perfect Plunge' type. (I swear this is not an ad, but just so you know what I mean if you wanna look it up) When I was working there I also noticed small boob girlies often can't wear "Balcony" type of bras.
Also, if your chest is very muscular, it can be that you have a higher cup size than you think even if your boobs are small, just because the muscle makes the chest 'wider' and the cup frame needs to reach further to the armpit.
Another thing for everyone: If the bra lifts in the middle between your chest, it doesn't mean that it doesn't fit if the rest is right. If you're not comfortable with that, then maybe that bra form is just not for you. Try a different one!
Also, don't be scared of "high" cup sizes! As sizes vary so much, it doesn't say anything about your body. Same the other way, don't think, "omg I don't have such small boobs" just because a bra fits you, but is not the size you normally get. It's totally fine and normal for the sizes to vary between types and brands!
warning: pegging, he wants you to breed him with your strap, hesitant bun, but he consents
Werebunny that wants to breed you, but when you take out the strap he obedient lifts his cute, perky bottom for you.
He’ll whimper and gently knead the blanket, his bottom lip poking out as his cotton tail wags nervously.
“You’ll be gentle?”
He sounds so cute, his voice a little shaky as his red cock bobs wildly at the feeling of your strap pressing against his hole.
“Of course I will. You’re my baby, I would never hurt you.”
He let out a little purr, his cheeks turning pink as your silicone cock sunk into him. It wasn’t painful, but the stretching sensation was foreign and made him let out a pitiful squeak.
“Eek!”
Precum pooled underneath him, his hips pushing back into yours. “Oh? Does my baby want me to start moving already?”
“P-please… please…”
You held onto his soft hips and pulled back before thrusting back into him, causing him to cry out. “Mmph, m-more!”
He drooled, cum shooting out of his untouched cock as you pounded his cute butt, smacking and squeezing the soft flesh of his ass in your hand.
“You like that? You like when I breed you?”
Needy groans escaped his lips as he buried his face into the pillow, his hips moving to meet your thrust. “Y-yes! G-gimme a litter! W-wanna have your kits!”
You continued to fuck into him until there was a thick pool of cum under him, and his asshole clenched tightly around your strap.
He was so cute, his little pink nose nuzzled against the pillow as he looked up at you with his sleepy eyes. You leaned over to kiss his temple, pulling out. “My good boy, let’s get you cleaned up.”
After wiping him up and dressing him in fluffy pajamas, you covered him in kissed and promised he could breed you tomorrow… which he sleepily accepted…
“B-but… you can… you can do that again sometime…” he said shyly, nipping at you as he got comfortable.
“Sure, baby. Whenever you want.”
Getting all snuggly with your sweet bun, the two of you fell asleep together…
He learned something about himself that day… and found himself bending over for your strap the next night, ready for you to fuck him senseless again.
Holding your bunny hybrid bf in your lap and stroking his cock as he squirms and wiggles…
He can be such a pouty little thing, wanting to mate and breed, unsatisfied with cumming on your hands instead of inside your pretty cunt.
Doing little bunny thumps with his feet and huffing, his red cock bobbing with need as his ears twitch and his cotton tail wagging furiously. He likes it, but he won’t admit it since you’re being so mean to your poor baby boy!
“Mean… don’t like you anymore…” he says, puffing out his cheek as his soft hips lightly buck, his cock begging for release.
You’re so soft and patient with your sweet little bunny, cooing and nibbling on his fluffy ears. “Shh, you don’t mean that. Don’t you wanna cum? Stop being fussy.”
He whined and his pink nose twitched as you sped of your stroking, your thumb rubbing against his tip. He let out a mewl, unable to resist shooting think ropes of cum all over himself!
And now you’re left with a satisfied, but pouty bun, that wants to release a second load inside of you… he deserves it, since you were oh so mean to your sensitive boy.
He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.
Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.
But he went a bit too far tonight.
You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.
But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”
He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.
Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“
You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”
His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.
“My love… that’s not-“
You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”
Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?
Oh how wrong he was.
When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.
This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.
Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.
“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”
The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.
So that’s how you felt…
“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.
If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?
If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…
Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.
Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?
Thinking about an incubus that is absolutely dedicated to his human mate. He used to not care where his food came from, but now you’re the only one he’ll have sex with.
It’s usually looked down upon for an incubus/succubus to fall in love, but he doesn’t care. You’re all his, and he absolutely adores you.
UGH!! House husband incubus who is such a pretty little thing, always greeting you with kisses and soft rubs against your clothed cunt with his tail. He just loves you so much, he can’t wait to have you underneath him.
With his previous lovers, he didn’t care too much about them. He only got them off enough to feed, then left them to go and find his next meal.
But you? Oh he could stay between your thighs for hours, fucking you, eating your pussy until you’re a quivering mess… hell, sometimes he just stares at that pretty cunt of yours with a pussy drunk look, planting wet kisses along you lower lips.
“Mine… so pretty, and tastes so good…”
He’s FREAKY. Whatever you want to try, he’ll do it. Anything is on the table, he just wants to make you happy.
He wears his most expensive, prettiest lingerie just for you! When you say how pretty he looks, he cums, his pretty panties straining against his needy cock, getting all wet and sticky. Won’t you take care of him?
Your incubus husband is very needy and high maintenance, but he holds the same standards for you. He treats you like a queen, his goddess. He’d do anything for you 💗
Imagine trying to have a normal Halloween party but all of your guests are REAL monsters that are horny as FUCK.
You see a fairy prince rubbing his bulge as you walk by, some werewolves eyeing your hips with each step, and you swear those “fake” vampire teeth just got longer as if getting ready to sink into your neck-
You’ve gotta stop having open invite parties unless you’re ready to feel tentacles and knots stretching you out.
Humans are cute, and you’re a particularly intriguing snack to monsterkind. With those plump hips and soft tummy, they’re about ready to tackle you and get to making babies.
A few drinks in and your giggling as a bottle spins. You end up in a closet with something you can’t quite comprehend and leave with your panties soaked with viscous black fluid and mind numb.
Some pretty vampire boys take turns kissing you, their cold fingers traveling down your body. It’s only later that you realize they’ve begun drinking from your neck, you’re too buzzed to even notice the pain.
Your pussy gets played with by an incubus who doesn’t even try to hide his flicking tail. Not like you’d notice anyways, you’re too focused on the feeling of his tongue swirling your clit.
Several cocks enter you that night, some slimy and long, others short at first before growing longer and thicker once they cum. By the end of your night they’ve all left some sort of claim on you, and you’ll be visited by different monster suitors until you pick which one to mate with.
You’ve got the sight after all, even if you’re not aware of it yet, and monsters prefer a human that came see them when they’re plowing into them.
Hopefully next time you’ll actually realize you’re getting pounded by actual monster cock, though.
He sniffs it curiously, recognizing the smell of your slick coating it. “What is it?”
You turn it on, the monotonous buzzing filling the air as you use your free hand to undo his pants. “Just wait, baby.”
You stroke his cock, getting him hard before pressing the vibrator against his tip, making him yelp in surprise before he melts against you.
It becomes his favorite thing ever, and you catch him stealing your vibrator to play with it while your gone. He knots his own fist, drooling onto your pillow as his cum spills onto your vibrator.
Gargoyle lover who can't spend time with you during the day, as he truly is nothing but a stone statue at sunrise. But at night, he moves around freely in his true form.
He makes up for the lost time by filling you up each night. Ensuring to keep you awake all night, cock drunk, so you can sleep the whole day. Now you sleep when he ''sleeps'' and you're awake when he is.
But sometimes he gets carried away, not realizing that the sun was peeking above the clouds as he's far too distracted pounding into you to ensure you take every last drop of his cum before he sleeps. It's not until he notices that his movements were halted, but he was too late. He turned completely into a stone statue whilst balls deep inside of you. Both of his arms still wrapped around your waist, you're unable to move. It's not as though you can push him off either; he's far too heavy.
Now you're stuck, still wriggling with pleasure as his now cold, hard cock is still inside. Even though he's now in statue form, his dick is still able to reach all the right spots without moving. It was going to be a long day.
Mer-octopi lover with no dick?! His bottom half is an octopus, so no genitalia is visible. You wondered how it would be, but never asked; besides, he was keeping you pleased with his eight (well, ten if you counted the ones on his human half) arms. One would be sliding in and out of your pussy as a few others use the suckers to suction your skin, nipples, and clit.
But today something was different, he suddenly pulled the arm that was fucking you out, and replaced it with another arm. This one felt very strange; you could feel it had a slight curve at the end, as well as no suckers could be felt at the end of this arm.
You gasp at the different texture; it sends waves of pleasure crashing over you.
''Do you like it? This is it'' he grunted and hissed as he continued pushing it further into you.
You quickly realized that this was his dick. He continued pumping in and out of you, causing your breath to hitch. It was unlike all the others; the slight curve at the end grazed against your walls with each motion. The feeling causes you to throw your head back in pleasure, and keep in mind, his ''dick'' was the same length and thickness as the other arms.
It didn't take long for you to come undone, and he was right behind you. You scream in ecstasy as you feel his release inside, loads and loads of his cum filling you.
He planted a kiss on your forehead as his movements became slower, pumping everything inside.
I love the dick types that hide. You don't know what you're getting.
You could be making out with a merman, having your hands wander until you reach the part where it should be, but nothing is there, just a bump. But you quickly realized that a slit runs vertically along it. Your fingers began to trace along the vertical slit, and as you do, the merman starts to shiver and gasp under your touch.
The merman would be smirking between kisses, anticipating and wondering what your next move would be, or he'd say something along the lines of '' work for it'' or ''make it show''
Giving these types of monsters head would be the best. Imagine, you started with licking and playing around a bump, and suddenly you have a 12+ inch dick in your mouth.
summary: yunho is trying to make a name for himself as a new up and coming photographer, he has no room for distractions, but model couple, y/n and mingi, seemed to want to tempt him
warnings: dom yunho, switch/bottom mingi, sub reader, spanking, face riding, oral (f/m), throat fucking, anal (m/m), threesome, multiple orgasm, squirting, overstimulation, just FILTH
genre: romance, drama, smut
pairings: photographer yunho x model afab reader x model mingi
word count: 8.7k
chapter two
chapter four coming soon
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The music pulsed through the afterparty like it had something to prove, heavy bass, low lights, the kind of energy that clung to your skin and soaked into your bloodstream. The ballroom was all gold trim and decadence, packed with stylists, designers, influencers, and models already half drunk on champagne and adrenaline.
Yunho didn’t belong here. He was supposed to leave hours ago. But his fingers were wrapped around a glass of something amber and dangerous, and he’d been leaning against the corner of the bar so long the edge had pressed a groove into his hip.
Another shot landed in front of him, poured by a bartender who didn’t ask questions.
Yunho threw it back.
Didn’t even flinch.
He’d been taking them in steady intervals, enough to dull the edge, not enough to forget. Unfortunately. Forgetting would’ve been easier.
He exhaled slow, letting his head tilt back, the ceiling lights blurring into soft gold smears above him. His dress shirt was still half buttoned from earlier, collar askew, tie long gone, sleeves shoved up to his forearms like he’d either just left a photoshoot or a fistfight. Maybe both.
The ice in his next glass clinked. He hated how fast his mind went back to her.
To them.
Red silk slinking across Y/N skin. The sound of her heels across marble. Mingi’s hand on her back. Mingi’s mouth on her throat. The way she looked at Yunho like she already knew what he tasted like.
Another shot.
It didn’t help.
He could still hear her voice. Low and close and full of wicked intentions.
You could’ve kissed me the other night.
And he could still feel Mingi’s breath on his neck from backstage. That quiet warning disguised as understanding.
You better be ready.
Yunho wasn’t ready. But he was curious. God help him, he was curious enough to stay.
The bartender gave him a look now, half amusement, half concern, but didn’t say a word as he slid another shot across the bar. Yunho took it without blinking.
The liquor burned less now.
His stomach did not as someone tapped his arm. Yunho didn’t turn right away. He already knew it wasn’t them. His body would’ve recognized the shift in gravity if it were.
“Jeong Yunho?” A soft, accented voice. Sweet. Too sweet. Someone from the magazine. Or a designer’s assistant. Maybe an off duty model. He didn’t care.
He finally looked. Tall. Pretty. Wearing something expensive and slinky. A smile like a half offer. She leaned against the bar beside him, brushing a hand lightly over his arm.
“You were incredible tonight. I’ve been watching your work. Those portraits during the Balmain show? Stunning.”
Yunho managed a small nod. “Thanks.”
She tilted her head, leaning in. “Are you always this quiet when you’re off the clock?”
“I’m not off the clock.”
Her smile widened. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
He almost smirked. Almost as her hand touched his wrist, delicate fingers just brushing over the edge of his watch. It was subtle. Innocent, maybe. But the second she did, his entire body recoiled, not outwardly, not enough to make a scene, but just enough.
Because it wasn’t her hand he wanted on his skin.
It wasn’t her perfume he wanted clouding his head.
It wasn’t her voice he’d been hearing in his dreams.
And the part that scared him the most?
It wasn’t just Y/N he wanted.
He wanted both of them.
Fuck.
He downed the last shot like it might silence that thought.
It didn’t.
Yunho turned back to the bar, nodding toward the bottle. “One more.” The bartender hesitated this time. “You good, man?” Yunho didn’t answer right away. Just let his hand curl around the next glass and stared into it like it might offer answers he wasn’t brave enough to say out loud.
Eventually, he muttered, voice quiet and bitter. “I don’t know what I am right now.”
“Do you always drink alone?”The woman’s voice was silk and smoke, curling around him as he tossed back another shot.
Yunho blinked once, letting the burn settle in his chest before glancing her way. She was leaning one elbow on the bar now, close enough to brush her perfume across his collar, sweet, floral, expensive. He didn’t recognize her, but she clearly knew who he was.
“Depends on the night,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.
She smiled like she liked that answer. “Cassie,” she offered, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. “Model. Technically. But mostly here for the chaos.”
Yunho hesitated, then shook her hand. Warm. Confident. Unbothered. “Yunho,” he said, though he didn’t have to considering she already knew of him.
“I know,” she purred. “Photographer of the hour. Your shots of Y/N and Mingi are already being dissected on Twitter. People are calling them carnal.’”
He huffed a dry laugh. “It was just good lighting.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, eyes flicking down his chest before crawling back up again. “No, darling. It was hunger. You shoot like you’re starving for what’s in the frame.”
His fingers tightened around the base of his glass as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping just enough to brush the shell of his ear. “So who’s feeding you?”
Yunho opened his mouth, probably to say something smart, something controlled, something to deflect, but he didn’t get the chance.
Because across the room….
Y/N was watching him.
Not subtly. Not even close.
She sat with one long leg draped lazily over the other, crimson dress still hugging every inch of her like it had been poured onto her skin. Her back was straight, shoulders relaxed, and her lips were curved into the faintest, slowest, most dangerous smirk he’d ever seen.
Mingi was beneath her. Literally. Sprawled in a velvet chair like a throne, all Diesel black and muscle, his hand resting high, too high, on her thigh. His head tilted just enough to nuzzle the edge of her jaw, and he murmured something into her ear that made her mouth curl wider.
But her eyes never left Yunho. Not even when she rolled her hips just slightly in Mingi’s lap. Not even when Mingi’s hand squeezed tighter. She saw him. She saw Cassie beside him.
Yunho saw her smirk widen, head tilt, one brow arched like a challenge.
Cassie, completely unaware of the electric storm aimed straight at her back, traced a fingernail down the lapel of Yunho’s jacket. “You don’t strike me as a one and done kind of guy,” she murmured. “But I’m pretty good at proving people wrong.”
Yunho barely heard her. His eyes were still locked on Y/N, who was now dragging her fingers lazily through Mingi’s hair. Mingi was relaxed, watching the room with cool disinterest, but Yunho could feel it. That hand on her thigh wasn’t casual. It was branding.
He wasn’t just watching anymore. He was burning.
Cassie leaned in closer. “Wanna get some air?”
That finally snapped his focus. Yunho blinked. She was smiling prettily, expectantly. He glanced toward his shot glass, then back across the room. Y/N was licking her bottom lip now, slow and deliberate. Her eyes sparkled like she knew exactly what was being offered to him, and exactly what he’d say.
Yunho’s throat bobbed as he turned back to Cassie and managed a smile. “I think I need another drink.”
She pouted, but not enough to press. “Your loss,” she said, voice breezy. “But if you change your mind…” She trailed her fingers down his arm and disappeared into the crowd with a sway of hips.
Yunho exhaled. Only then did he turn back toward them, and found Mingi watching him now, too. Not with judgment. But with something colder. Heavier. Amused, maybe, but calculated.
He whispered something to Y/N, slow and low, and she tilted her head toward him. Whatever it was made her smile widen into something dangerous. Then she uncrossed her legs, slow as sin, and stood.
And started walking toward him.
Yunho didn’t breathe.
Not once.
And she hadn’t even touched him yet.
Y/N slid onto the stool beside him with the kind of practiced grace that came from knowing every pair of eyes in the room would follow. Not because she was trying to be seen. But because she always was.
She didn’t speak right away. Just crossed one bare leg over the other, her crimson dress riding higher on her thigh with the movement. Her elbow brushed his, barely there, like an accident… but nothing about her ever was.
The bartender glanced up. “Red,” she said smoothly, tapping the rim of her empty glass. “Whatever you poured last time.” Then she looked at Yunho, head turning slow. Expression unreadable.
And in a voice soft enough to be mistaken for concern, but laced with something far sharper… “Do you want to fuck Cassie?”
Yunho’s body went still. Like something cracked right down his spine as he turned to her slowly, jaw tense, lips slightly parted. “What?”
Y/N didn’t blink. Her fingers traced the condensation on her glass, eyes fixed on the droplets. “I saw you talking to her,” she murmured, voice light, but her tone was a blade sheathed in silk. “She’s pretty. She touches your arm like she thinks she’s already halfway in your bed.”
“Y/N…”
“Maybe she’s your type,” she went on, cutting over him. “No complications. No manager pulling you aside to warn you off. No Mingi. Just you and her and whatever game you’ve been pretending you’re not playing.”
Her eyes finally lifted to meet his. There it was. That bite. That glint. The slow, wicked fire she always wore just under her skin. “But if that’s what you want,” she said, leaning in, her voice lower now, just for him. “If that’s what gets you off… I’ll call her back over for you.”
And then, because she’s cruel. And beautiful. And so, so bored of being patient, she reached out, slow as honey, and dragged her fingers down his chest. The touch wasn’t possessive. It was testing. Measuring. Like she was trying to feel how hard his heart was beating.
Yunho’s hand clenched around his glass. “I wasn’t going….” he tried, but she cut him off with a soft, almost amused sound. Not quite a laugh. Not quite kind. “You’re cute when you lie,” she said, and turned her face just enough to let her lips brush against his jaw.
Not a kiss. Just contact. A warning. A promise as her hand slipped from his chest, resting now on the bar, fingers tapping once, deciding.
“So? Do you want to fuck Cassie?”
He could feel Mingi watching from across the room. He could feel himself starting to slip. And Y/N, patient, terrifying, seductive Y/N, just waited.
Yunho didn’t answer right away.
He stared at her
At the woman who’d been dragging him closer to the fire with every look, every word, every inch of skin she knew he wanted to touch.
And he didn’t say a word.
He just tossed back another shot.
The burn hit his throat, slid down to coil in his gut, but it didn’t make a dent in the storm gathering under his skin. His fingers clenched around the empty glass as Seonghwa’s warning echoed like static behind his eyes.
They don’t chase people often. But when they do? They usually get what they want.
Mingyu had too much chemistry with Y/N. It pushed Mingi past his breaking point.
No one else has gotten that close since.
He wasn’t supposed to want this. He wasn’t supposed to let it go this far. But Y/N sat beside him like temptation made flesh, her perfume dizzying, her skin glowing, her voice all silk wrapped sin. And deep down, beneath the burn and the bruising want…. Yunho didn’t want to be safe anymore.
“Is Mingi watching us right now?”
Y/N blinked, just once. Caught off guard. Then her lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. “Mingi’s always watching.”
Yunho’s hand moved before he could second guess it. Under the bar. Smooth. Deliberate. His fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress. Found bare skin. Warm, soft, supple muscle.
Y/N inhaled sharply. Not dramatically. Not for attention. Just a breath, cut short as his hand rested hot on her upper thigh, thumb tracing just above the edge of her stocking. Her head turned to him slowly, eyes sharp, lips parted, but for once, for once, there was a flicker of something else beneath the tease.
Surprise.
“Good,” Yunho said, his voice rough, nearly unrecognizable. “Because I want him to watch when I ruin you.”
The silence between them cracked like lightning. Y/N lips parted on a soundless exhale, her pupils dark and blown, her composure fraying just slightly.
Just enough.
His hand didn’t move. Not yet. He didn’t need to. The weight of his words did the damage.
Across the room, Mingi was still lounging in that throne of velvet and sin, but he wasn’t relaxed anymore. He was watching. Sharp eyed. Focused. And smiling. Just the barest curl of his mouth.
He saw Yunho’s hand. He saw the shift in Y/N posture. He saw it all and he didn’t move. Didn’t stop it.
Because Yunho was finally in the game.
Y/N breath steadied. Almost, until Yunho stood. Tall and broad, shirt unbuttoned enough to be scandalous, skin flushed and jaw locked with restraint already cracking.
He didn’t speak. He just extended a hand. Fingers outstretched. Palm open.
Waiting. Y/N stared at it.
The whole party might as well have disappeared. Because when Yunho looked at her like that, like she was the only sin worth committing, the only heat worth chasing, there was no room left for pride or games. Just surrender.
She took his hand, her fingers slipped into his and he pulled her up gently, but there was nothing soft about the way his hand curled tight around hers.
Possessive.
Purposeful.
Final.
Mingi saw it all from across the room. He didn’t rush, just stood slowly, dusting nonexistent lint off his all black jacket, then rolled his shoulders and followed them without a word. One hand slipped into his pocket. The other trailed casually along the edge of a nearby marble pillar, knuckles dragging like a lazy devil marking territory on his way out.
No one tried to stop them.
No one would.
Because together, Yunho, Y/N, and Mingi, they moved like something important was about to happen. Something too intimate for the velvet ropes and champagne fizzed decadence of the afterparty.
The doors opened like they knew better than to stand in the way and Yunho led them out, still holding Y/N hand, pace slow but certain.
The Parisian air outside was crisp. Late night taxis hummed past. The Eiffel Tower glimmered just behind the skyline, almost unnoticed compared to the energy crackling between the three of them.
Y/N heels clicked against the pavement, echoing like a countdown. Mingi’s footsteps fell behind them, unhurried, steady. He didn’t ask where they were going. He already knew. Across the street, the grand entrance to their hotel loomed like a secret promise, gilt edges, warm lights, marble columns bathed in golden glow. Every pedestrian faded into a blur. Every horn and shout and distant jazz riff from a street musician blurred behind the tension in the space between them.
Yunho didn’t look back.
Y/N didn’t let go.
And Mingi didn’t stop.
The concierge barely spared them a glance. Elevator doors opened like an invitation as the three of them stepped in.
Mingi finally moved. Stepped in behind Yunho. Close. Closer.
His hand slipped over Y/N waist from behind, lips brushing her temple in a silent, possessive touch, while his eyes stayed locked on the back of Yunho’s neck.
Yunho didn’t flinch. He just lifted his hand, pressed the button for his floor, their floor, and let the doors close.
The city disappeared behind golden metal. Just them now.
Three bodies. Three breaths.
And one hunger, sharpened, mutual, inevitable.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
The floor was hushed and golden, hallways lit by elegant sconces, carpet plush beneath their feet as they stepped into the corridor.
Yunho led the way.
Confident.
Controlled.
Until he stopped.
At a door.
His door.
He let go of Y/N hand to reach for the keycard, sliding it into the slot with a soft click, then pushed the door open just slightly, but before he stepped inside, he glanced to the side.
Y/N did too.
And froze.
Mingi, a beat behind her, looked up… and let out a low, dangerous little laugh.
Their room.
Right next door.
Y/N blinked, her lips twitching into something between a grin and a gasp. “You’ve been staying here?”
Yunho paused mid step, the door half open behind him. “Yeah. Why?” He was playing innocent now.
Mingi stepped up beside her, eyes glittering. “So that means…”
Y/N mouth dropped open slightly, realization blooming slow and delicious behind her ribs. “You heard us.”
Yunho didn’t say a word.
Didn’t need to.
His silence was answer enough.
Y/N smirk unfurled like smoke. “Last night… you were right there.” Her voice dropped to a purr. “While we both made each other scream your name…”
Mingi’s smile sharpened as Yunho’s jaw tightened, but it wasn’t from discomfort.
No.
He was remembering, swallowing hard.
And that alone made Y/N take a slow, lazy step forward, her eyes raking down his chest. “You touched yourself, didn’t you?”
Yunho’s hand was still on the door. Knuckles white as he shoved the door open the rest of the way and stepped aside, eyes never leaving hers.
His voice was hoarse, deep.
“Get in.”
Y/N walked in with a satisfied smile.
Yunho followed.
And behind them, Mingi lingered at the threshold for half a second longer, head tilted as he stared at the bed just barely visible through the suite’s doorway.
Then he stepped inside too, letting the door click shut behind him and that’s when Yunho moved. He turned, grabbed Y/N by the waist, and pinned her to him in a rush of motion he didn’t realize he’d been holding back for weeks.
She gasped, but only because she liked being surprised. Her eyes met his, wide and dark, and then he was kissing her.
Not softly. Not gently.
Not like someone who wasn’t sure.
No.
He kissed her like a man possessed. Like he’d been starving for her. Like every second he’d spent pretending he didn’t want her was catching up all at once and he was done pretending.
His mouth crashed against hers, devouring, claiming. Her lips were soft and parted, and she kissed him back with just as much fire, like she’d wanted this, needed it, like she was done waiting too.
Her hands gripped the front of his shirt, fingers curling tight in the fabric. She tasted like wine and something sweet, and her tongue met his like it already knew the rhythm they’d fall into.
And Yunho?
Yunho groaned into her mouth.
Because nothing had ever felt like this.
She was warm, perfect, delicious, and his hands moved of their own accord, one gripping her waist, the other sliding up the curve of her back to bury in her hair and pull. Tilting her head. Deepening the kiss. Forcing her to feel every ounce of what she’d done to him.
He kissed her until he couldn’t breathe. Until she moaned softly into his mouth, high and helpless. Until he felt her knees start to weaken.
“Goddamn,” Mingi muttered.
Yunho still didn’t let her go. Not yet. But he did pull back, barely, his lips brushing hers, his breath ragged, his voice wrecked.
“Is this what you wanted?” he rasped.
Y/N smile was dizzy, ruined, fucking stunning.
“Yes,” she whispered, lips still brushing his. “But it’s not enough.”
Yunho let out a low, breathless laugh, then he turned, finally, toward Mingi. The man stood near the wall, arms crossed, jacket already shrugged off, sleeves rolled. His eyes were hungry. Focused. Calm in that unnerving way that said he wasn’t threatened at all.
Yunho stepped back just slightly, keeping his hands on Y/N waist, and met Mingi’s eyes dead on. “Still watching?” he asked, voice low, dangerous.
Mingi smirked. “Always.”
Yunho didn’t look away from Mingi as he slid his hands down Y/N sides. Didn’t blink. Just let his fingers catch on the edge of her dress.
And then, slow, steady, daring, he turned back to her. Her eyes were heavy, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kiss. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.
Yunho dipped his head to her neck, mouthing just under her jaw as his hands lifted the hem of her dress. Up. Up. Over. The crimson silk slipped from her shoulders, dragged like a whispered secret down her curves.
Her body was everything he’d imagined. Everything he’d dreamed. Soft in all the places that made him want to sink his teeth in. Strong in the ways that had him aching to break her down.
The dress puddled at her feet and she stepped out of it without a word. His hands traced her bare waist. His mouth followed. Kisses pressed to her ribs. Her navel. The hollow just above the band of her panties.
And when his knees hit the floor, he didn’t even hesitate. He looked up, Y/N hand slipped into his hair, fingers gentle at first.
He mouthed over the damp cotton, hot breath soaking through, tongue teasing just enough to make her hips twitch. Then he hooked his fingers under the waistband, looked up one last time and pulled. The panties dropped. And Yunho didn’t waste a second.
His mouth was on her, tongue flat and deep, licking from slit to clit, groaning when he tasted just how wet she already was. She gasped above him, fingers tightening in his hair. Yunho’s hands gripped her thighs, thumbs spreading her wider as he buried his face between them. His tongue circled her clit slowly, then faster, flicking just enough to make her whimper.
She was already shaking and he hadn’t even started yet.
Behind them, Mingi still stood by the wall, silent, still. Watching. Yunho knew he was there. Knew he was being observed. And he liked it. He wanted Mingi to see. To know.
That Yunho wasn’t afraid to get on his knees and devour. He slipped one finger in and Y/N moaned, high, breathy. Then another. And a third. Curling. Stroking. His mouth never left her clit, sucking now, teasing between flicks of his tongue.
Her hips jerked. Her breath caught. “Yunho!” she gasped, hand yanking at his hair now, the other braced on the back of a chair just to stay upright. “Fuck…”
He groaned into her. He could feel her getting close, so close. She was clenching around his fingers, thighs trembling, voice cracking.
“Don’t stop… don’t.. fuck… Yunho!”
Her whole body snapped tight. And then, release. She came hard. Head thrown back. Mouth open. Legs barely holding her up. And then she squirted. Hot and sudden, all over his hand, his mouth, dripping down his wrist as she cried out and dug her nails into his scalp.
Yunho held her through it. Fingers still moving. Mouth still on her. Tongue dragging every last bit of slick from her swollen clit like he was trying to memorize the taste. She shuddered. Nearly collapsed.
And only then did he finally pull back, lips shiny, chin wet, eyes blown as he looked up at her like she was the only religion that ever mattered.
And behind them?
Mingi laughed.
Low. Deep. Filthy.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice rich with approval. “You broke her.”
Yunho rose to his feet, slowly. His legs ached with tension. His jaw was slick, his fingers still wet. Y/N was breathless beside him, clinging to the edge of the chair like gravity had betrayed her, but Yunho?
He was focused on him.
Mingi.
Still leaning against the wall. Still watching. Still waiting. But his expression had changed. Just slightly. No longer smirking. No longer cocky.
Something in his eyes flickered when Yunho looked at him like that, not defiant, not submissive either. Just hungry.
Yunho walked toward him. One slow step at a time. And Mingi, blinking once, posture straightening, was still processing when Yunho grabbed a fistful of his shirt, fisted the fabric tight in both hands, and then, roughly, without hesitation, kissed him.
Mingi stiffened for a split second.
His body jolted. His eyes wide.
Shocked.
Because none of their thirds ever did this.
They wanted Y/N. They wanted to fuck her, please her, ruin her.
But not him.
They didn’t kiss Mingi like they meant it.
Like they wanted it.
And Yunho?
Yunho kissed like he’d been thinking about this for days. Weeks.
It wasn’t cautious.
It was claiming.
Mingi’s hands didn’t move at first. His body was still frozen when Yunho tilted his head, deepening it, his tongue pushing past Mingi’s lips without warning, wet, hot, filthy.
And that was when Mingi moaned.
Low.
Surprised.
Wrecked.
Because he tasted her.
Y/N.
All over Yunho’s tongue.
Sweet and slick and dripping.
Yunho swallowed the sound Mingi made like it fed something in him, one hand sliding up into Mingi’s hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking, hard.
Mingi gasped into his mouth, hands finally snapping to life, grabbing at Yunho’s hips, dragging him closer, clutching him like he didn’t know how much he needed this until now.
Yunho kissed him like he owned him.
And Mingi let him.
Groaning into his mouth, hips shifting forward like his whole body was trying to get closer. He tasted Y/N and Yunho and something hot and new, something that burned deep in his gut and made him shiver.
Yunho broke the kiss with a wet gasp, his lips flushed, his grip still tangled in Mingi’s hair.
Their foreheads bumped.
Breath shared.
And Yunho smirked against his mouth.
“Now you taste like her too.”
Mingi’s eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.”
From across the room, Y/N, still recovering, still watching, bit her lip so hard it almost bruised. Her voice was hoarse, shaking, full of awe and hunger all at once.
“Do it again.”
Yunho chuckled, he could still taste them both. His lips were tingling. His hand was shaking, barely, but it wasn’t nerves.
It was restraint. Shredding.
He looked at Mingi, flushed, dazed, lips red from the kiss, and then past him, to Y/N.
She was still perched on the edge of the chair, dress gone, legs trembling, thighs wet. Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, and her eyes were wild.
Hungry.
Yunho’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous command.
“Mingi.”
Mingi looked up.
Still panting. Still wrecked.
Yunho didn’t blink.
“Go to her.”
Mingi didn’t move.
So Yunho stepped closer, wrapped a fist in his shirt again, and tugged him just hard enough to make a point. “Make her come again. With your mouth.”
Mingi’s pupils dilated as Yunho let him go with a shove.
And that’s all it took.
Mingi crossed the room in seconds, silent, determined, obedient as Y/N eyes widened as he dropped to his knees in front of her like it was instinct.
But then, he kept going.
Down.
Flat.
All the way onto his back on the plush hotel carpet, grinning up at her like the sinner he was. “Come on, baby.” His voice was thick with need. “Ride me.”
Y/N blinked. “Your face?”
Mingi smirked. “Unless you’ve got another hole I don’t know about.”
She laughed, breathy, giddy, and crawled over him, straddling his chest, her thighs still trembling from Yunho’s earlier onslaught.
But Yunho wasn’t finished.
He stepped forward, knelt behind her, hands on her hips as he guided her up higher, until her knees were bracketing Mingi’s head, until her slick was dripping just over his lips.
Mingi groaned. “Fuck. Please.”
And Yunho leaned in, voice hot against her ear.
“Sit.”
Y/N sank down.
And Mingi moaned.
Loud.
He didn’t tease. Didn’t edge. His mouth was on her instantly, tongue lapping like a man starved, hands gripping her thighs to keep her there, to hold her open as Y/N cried out, head falling back, hands flying to the edge of the bed to stay upright.
Yunho sat back on his heels, watching, hand stroking himself slowly over his jeans. The other tracing the curve of Y/N spine. She was trembling already, Mingi licking fast now, circling her clit, then flattening his tongue and sucking hard, like he wanted to drink every drop of her.
“Shit… Mingi.. fuck” she sobbed, rocking her hips as Mingi just growled into her.
And Yunho?
Yunho leaned in close behind her, his mouth ghosting along her shoulder.
“Come again.”
Her body jerked as Yunho kissed her neck, slow and sweet, completely at odds with the brutal pace of Mingi’s mouth below.
And that contrast?
It destroyed her.
Y/N choked out a moan, hips twitching as she came. Hard. Violent. Flooding Mingi’s mouth, soaking his chin, her thighs clenching around his head as she screamed his name and collapsed forward, shaking.
Yunho caught her before she fell. Held her close. “That’s it, sweetheart,” into her hair like a prayer. And watched Mingi lick his lips clean beneath her with zero shame.
Yunho held her for a moment longer, breathing in her scent, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse under his lips. Then he looked over her shoulder, past her ruined body, to where Mingi lay beneath her, grinning and breathless.
“Up,” Yunho said, voice soft but firm. Mingi blinked, licked his lips again, and obeyed without argument, sliding out from beneath Y/N and stood, jaw tight, hands twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them. Yunho gave him a slow once over, then nodded toward the armchair in the corner.
“Sit.”
Mingi didn’t argue as he backed into the chair, slouched into it with his legs spread, still fully clothed but looking more undone than he ever had before. His hair was a mess, his lips were red, and his chest was rising fast.
And Yunho?
Yunho stood tall in the center of the room. Still clothed. Still composed. Until he reached for his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor without looking.
Y/N, still breathless, still kneeling on the carpet, stared up at him like he was something holy. His body was lean, strong, every line sculpted with quiet power. His skin flushed from lust, his chest rising slow as he watched her watch him.
His fingers went to his belt next. Unbuckled. Undone. Pulled through the loops with a lazy snap of leather. But instead of going further, he looked down at her. “You do the rest.”
Y/N breath caught as she looked up at him, dazed. Wrecked. Then she crawled toward him on shaky limbs and sat back on her heels, hands reaching for his waistband.
Her fingers were trembling as she tugged the fabric down his hips, slowly, reverently, like she was unwrapping a gift she’d only dared dream about. And when she finally saw him, thick, hard, heavy, straining in his briefs, a little bigger than Mingi himself.
She moaned.
Not softly.
Not politely.
It punched out of her like her lungs couldn’t contain the sound.
“Fuck, Yunho….” she whispered, voice wrecked.
Yunho chuckled, low, dark, the sound curling around her like smoke. “Too much?” he teased and she shook her head instantly, pupils blown.
“Not even close.”
He stepped out of his pants, then slid his briefs down with one slow drag, standing bare in front of her, dick hard and heavy between his thighs, both of them stared.
Y/N, lips parted, thighs clenching. Mingi, across the room, hands gripping the arms of the chair like he might need to anchor himself.
Yunho reached down, gripped the back of Y/N neck, and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “You gonna be good for me, sweetheart?”
Y/N breath hitched.
She nodded. Fast. Too fast.
And Yunho smiled as he could feel Mingi watching them, silent, still, already wrecked just from looking.
Yunho curled his fingers under her chin.
Lifted her face.
Watched her blink up at him with wide, ruined eyes.
“Open.”
She obeyed instantly. Mouth wide. Tongue out. Breathing hard through her nose as Yunho, calm, composed, in complete control, slid his dick across her tongue slowly, letting the weight of it rest there for a beat.
“Good girl,” he murmured, thumb stroking her cheek. Then he pushed deeper causing her to gag once, just a soft noise, but didn’t pull back.
Yunho’s jaw clenched. “Relax your throat,” he said, voice smooth but strained, hand tightening in her hair. “Breathe through your nose. Just like that.”
He eased deeper, inch by inch, until her lips were flush with the base of him and her throat was full. Her hands braced on his thighs. Her eyes watered. Saliva started to drip from the corners of her mouth.
And Yunho, looking down at her ruined, obedient expression, groaned. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Look at you.”
Across the room, Mingi let out a breathless, choked sound as Yunho thrusted, slow and shallow at first, watching her throat bulge slightly with each pass, his grip firm in her hair to control the pace.
“Taking me so well,” he said lowly, eyes locked on hers. “Isn’t she, Mingi?” He finally looked over his shoulder. Mingi was spread wide in the chair, hands fisted in his jeans, eyes locked on her like he’d never seen anything so perfect.
“Yeah,” he croaked, voice wrecked. “She’s… fuck. She’s perfect.”
Yunho looked down again.
Her eyes were glassy, tears slipping free, spit slicking her chin, but she didn’t stop.
Didn’t want to.
“Want me to come down your throat?” Yunho asked, breath ragged. She moaned around him. The vibration made him curse. And then he was fucking her mouth in earnest.
Faster. Deeper. Controlled but filthy, hips snapping forward until the wet gagging sounds echoed in the room. Drool ran down her chest. Her mascara was smudged. Her thighs were clenched.
And Yunho?
He lost it.
With a gasp and a grunt, he came down her throat, deep and hard, his grip tightening as his hips stuttered forward, holding her there, letting her take every last drop.
She swallowed around him. Shaky. Needy.
Like it wasn’t enough.
Yunho pulled out with a soft, wet pop. A strand of spit connected her lips to the head of his dick.
He wiped her cheek gently with his thumb, eyes still dark.
“Good fucking girl.”
She blinked up at him. Wrecked. Smiling.
And behind them?
Mingi’s voice cracked.
“My turn.”
Yunho stepped back, breathing hard, still tasting her on his tongue and the back of his throat. He looked at her, lips swollen, makeup smeared, hair a mess and felt pride swell in his chest like satisfaction wasn’t enough.
He wanted to own her.
“Bed,” he said, voice dark and smooth. “Hands and knees.”
Y/N shivered, crawling up onto the mattress, legs shaking slightly beneath her.
Yunho turned to Mingi next.
“Strip.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
Mingi didn’t question it, just peeled off each piece of clothing slowly, like his body couldn’t move fast enough to keep up with his desire. His eyes were locked on Y/N as she positioned herself on all fours, ass high, back arched, face flushed from the anticipation alone.
Yunho climbed onto the bed behind her, one large hand gripping her hip, the other stroking himself slowly as he lined up. “You sure?” he asked, voice suddenly low and genuine, his thumb brushing over her spine.
She didn’t even turn her head, just whispered, “Yes, please… fuck me, Yunho” through a wrecked moan.
He pressed forward. Just the tip at first. And even that made her cry out. Yunho groaned under his breath as he pushed deeper, inch by thick, slow inch, stretching her open so deliberately it had her whining into the sheets.
He paused halfway, leaned over her back, and murmured into her ear, “Breathe for me.” And when he bottomed out? Her mouth dropped open with a broken, muffled cry, her body trembling around him as her walls fluttered in desperate pleasure.
“Fucking hell,” Yunho hissed. “So tight… so wet”
He rolled his hips just once and she nearly collapsed as Mingi, now fully naked, flushed and hard, climbed onto the mattress in front of her, stroking himself lazily with one hand while the other reached for her chin.
“Open that pretty mouth again, baby.”
Y/N looked up at him, dazed and teary, but obedient, parting her lips, tongue out and Mingi didn’t hesitate. He slid inside, slow, teasing at first, just enough to make her groan, but then her lips closed around him and he shuddered.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he panted. “Just like that.”
And suddenly they were moving together. Yunho behind her, thrusting slow and deep, his hands gripping her hips like he was anchoring himself in her body. Mingi in front of her, his dick sliding between her lips with wet sounds and soft, filthy praises.
Y/N caught in the middle, moaning around Mingi’s length, pushing back into Yunho’s every thrust, tears running down her cheeks as she was devoured by both.
Yunho’s voice was a growl now, breathless but still commanding. “You like this?” he panted. “Being our perfect little toy?”
She moaned around Mingi’s dick, body jerking when Yunho angled just right and hit that devastating spot inside her. Mingi hissed, fisting her hair tighter. “She’s dripping,” he groaned, looking past her to Yunho. “I can feel it on the bed.”
Yunho smirked. “Good,” he growled. “I’m just getting started.”
The rhythm was sinful. Yunho’s hips snapping forward, spanking her ass with every thrust. The crack of skin on skin echoing off the hotel walls. Y/N was sobbing into Mingi’s dick, hands fisting the sheets, her whole body shaking, but she didn’t stop.
She took it.
Took Mingi down her throat, took Yunho pounding into her from behind, took the moaned praises and sharp slaps and needy hands like she was made for it. Yunho was watching it all, his eyes locked on the way her lips wrapped around Mingi, the way her ass bounced against his pelvis every time he drove into her, the way sweat glistened on Mingi’s chest.
He reached forward. Fisted the front of Mingi’s shirtless his hand into Mingi’s hair, dragged him down like it was instinct, his breath hot and heavy as he yanked him into a kiss, hard and hungry.
Mingi gasped into it, caught completely off guard, but then he groaned, leaning into it, letting their mouths crash and tongues tangle like they’d done it a hundred times as Y/N whimpered around Mingi’s dick, her throat flexing as Yunho’s hips never faltered, not once.
And when Yunho finally pulled back, lips wet, eyes dark, hand still gripping Mingi’s hair, Mingi chuckled, breathless. “Fucking Eiffel Tower in Paris,” he panted, voice wrecked with laughter and lust.
Yunho grinned, one sharp thrust making Y/N cry out and gag around Mingi all at once. “Exactly where we belong.”
Another slap. Another kiss. Another ragged moan. And the tower didn’t fall, but God, it shook like it could any second.
Y/N was barely holding on.
Her mouth still full of Mingi.
Yunho’s hips still slamming into her from behind. The sting of another spank blooming across her ass just as Yunho moaned into Mingi’s mouth again.
But then, he pulled out.
Y/N let out a sharp whine of protest, collapsing forward, her face buried in the sheets, slick dripping down her thighs.
But Yunho?
He wasn’t done.
“On your back,” he said, voice like a deep growl as she obeyed instantly, rolling over, legs trembling, chest rising and falling in short gasps.
Yunho looked at Mingi next. “You want her?” he asked.
Mingi’s chest was heaving. His dick was soaked from her mouth. His lips still tingled from Yunho’s kiss.
“Always,” he breathed.
Yunho nodded. “Then take her.”
Mingi didn’t need to be told twice. He climbed onto the bed between her thighs, one hand guiding himself, the other gripping her hip as he slid in with a slow, deep thrust, both of them moaning at the contact.
Y/N head tipped back, her mouth open in a silent scream because he was big too, every single time and she could never get enough. “Fuck…” she gasped, “Mingi…. baby… please….”
He bent over her, thrusting slowly at first, grinding his hips just right as she clung to him, hands digging into his back, whimpering like she couldn’t take it, like she needed more.
And behind him?
Yunho moved.
He knelt behind Mingi on the bed, watching the way his body moved over hers, how wrecked they both looked, the sounds they made.
And then he reached for him.
Mingi jolted when he felt the warm press of Yunho’s hand on his back, and even more when he felt Yunho’s dick brush between his cheeks. “Yunho?” he choked, voice trembling with pleasure and surprise.
“You said, always,’” Yunho whispered against his neck, kissing just behind his ear. “That includes you too.”
Mingi shuddered. His hands trembled where they braced on the mattress. And when Yunho slicked himself up by reaching around to gather up some of Y/N wetness, and slowly pushed in, pressing forward carefully, purposefully, until Mingi was moaning so loud it echoed in the room?
Everything changed.
Y/N watched through dazed, teary eyes, her breath catching in her throat as she realized…. she could feel both of them. The stretch. The weight. Mingi buried deep in her, Yunho buried deep in him.
And the rhythm….
Fucking devastating.
Mingi trembled with every thrust from behind. His body jolted forward, driving deeper into her with each of Yunho’s calculated snaps of his hips.
They were a chain of pleasure now.
Mingi fucking her. Yunho fucking him. Y/N taking it all with tears streaking down her cheeks, mouth open in moans that couldn’t even form words. Yunho groaned behind them, voice low and possessive. “So perfect between us,” he whispered, one hand gripping Mingi’s hip, the other sliding between Y/N legs to rub her clit. “You feel that, baby? You’ve got both of us now.”
Y/N cried out, body arching off the mattress, her orgasm already rising fast, too fast.
And Mingi?
Mingi was gone.
Moaning Yunho’s name into Y/N neck as he trembled from the pressure, the heat, the overwhelming pleasure of being taken while giving everything he had.
“F… Fuck… fuck I’m…..” Mingi gasped.
Yunho growled in his ear. “Not yet.” His breath was hot against Mingi’s shoulder, every thrust harder than the last, hand still curled around his hip like he owned it.
Mingi was trembling, hips stuttering, dick twitching inside Y/N as she clung to him, moaning like she’d already lost herself to the feeling of both of them.
But Yunho wasn’t done. He growled into Mingi’s neck, voice sharp and commanding.
“Up. Now.”
Mingi gasped when he was yanked back by the shoulders, Yunho’s dick slipping free of him with a slick pop, the sudden absence leaving him gasping.
“Y/N,” Yunho said next, voice firm but breathless, “turn around. Hands and knees.”
She obeyed like she was hypnotized. Eyes glassy. Body slick and trembling. Her thighs still sticky with slick and cum and need.
Mingi’s chest heaved as he adjusted, sliding back behind her, positioning himself once more, and with Yunho’s firm hand at his back, he sank in again from behind.
Y/N cried out the moment he was fully inside. The new angle had her wrecked, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets, Mingi’s hands on her hips as he began to move, shallow at first, then deeper, harder.
Behind him, Yunho lined up again, and slid back inside as Mingi gasped, hands tightening on Y/N hips as the rhythm resumed.
All three of them moving together.
Y/N buried her face in the mattress, body shaking as Mingi fucked into her and Yunho fucked into him, both of them panting, groaning, gripping tight like they were holding on for dear life.
It built fast. Too fast.
Yunho’s voice was a growl behind Mingi.
“Don’t you come without me.”
But Y/N was already gone. She screamed into the sheets, whole body clenching as her orgasm ripped through her, spasming around Mingi’s dick as she soaked the bed beneath them.
Mingi followed instantly, crying out as he came deep inside her, hips grinding in desperation while Yunho cursed behind him, pulling out with a shudder, hand gripping the base of his dick.
But before anyone could even breathe, Yunho reached for Y/N, flipping her onto her back and pulled her into his lap, settling her over his thighs. Her whole body was limp, chest heaving, still dazed from the high.
Yunho kissed her hard. Deep. Desperate. “One more,” he whispered against her lips. “Just for me.” And then he slid back inside. Her back arched, mouth dropping open in a broken moan.
“Yunho… please”
He didn’t stop. Held her close. Fucked up into her with long, hard thrusts, the wet sound of it obscene, her legs wrapped around his waist as he took her exactly how he wanted.
Y/N trembled in his arms. Her cries were incoherent, just whimpers and gasps and soft, shattered little “yes… yes…. please… don’t stop”
And when she came? It hit her like lightning, her nails raking down his back, thighs locking tight, head thrown back as she screamed his name.
Yunho followed with a groan, low, guttural, burying himself deep as he came hard, holding her still, riding it out with his face buried in her neck.
No one moved for a moment.
Just the sound of three hearts pounding, three bodies pressed together, three souls tangled in something they didn’t yet have words for.
Yunho leaned back, brushing Y/N hair from her face, his voice hoarse. “You okay?”
Y/N blinked up at him, lips twitching into a sleepy, wrecked smile. “You said one more,” she whispered. “That felt like three.”
Yunho just grinned as Mingi groaned from the bed beside them, arm flung over his face.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Yunho woke to the feeling of soft lips brushing along the side of his neck. Warm breath. A teasing nip. A sleepy moan.
And a body, her body, straddling his hips, already grinding down against him in slow, deliberate rolls that had his dick twitching to life beneath the sheets.
His eyes fluttered open. Sunlight poured through the cracked hotel curtains, painting the bed in a wash of gold. And there she was. Y/N. Hair a mess. Skin still marked with little bruises and fading fingerprints. Eyes heavy lidded and lips curved into a dangerous little smirk.
“Morning,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and sin as Yunho groaned, arm instinctively curling around her waist. His hips bucked up, just slightly, not fully awake but very aware. “You don’t sleep, do you?” he rasped, voice rough from last night, from moaning her name into her throat like a prayer he didn’t want to end.
She smiled, slow and syrupy, and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t say I wanted to sleep,” she murmured, grinding down harder. “Said I wanted you.”
And then he felt it, no panties. Just the heat of her soaking core dragging along the growing length beneath the sheets, wet already, and God, it was almost cruel.
Yunho slid one hand up her back, the other gripping her thigh, letting his fingers squeeze into the softness there as he let out a low, wrecked groan. “Y/N…” he warned, eyes flicking to the side of the bed.
Mingi was still there, lying on his stomach, snoring, one arm flopped out over the empty half of the mattress like he’d tried to cling to her and missed.
She giggled quietly.
“He’s dead to the world.”
Yunho raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “And you’re trying to kill me next?” She leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.
“Thought you said one more…” she purred, “just for you.”
Yunho didn’t need more convincing. His hands gripped her hips, grinding her down harder, groaning when he felt just how wet she already was for him. “You want it that bad, huh?”
She nodded, hair falling into her face. “Woke up aching. Couldn’t wait.”
Yunho reached down, slipping himself free of his boxers with one hand while the other guided her hips just right. When she shifted her weight and finally sank down on him?They both moaned. Low. Deep. Drenched in satisfaction.
“Fuck,” he gasped, hands trembling as he slid deeper. “Still so tight, baby.”
She whined as he bottomed out, rolling her hips slowly once she was seated in his lap, her nails digging into his shoulders for balance.
The rhythm started slow.
Lazy. Sensual. Her moving over him like she had all the time in the world. Yunho met her movements with steady thrusts of his own, watching the way her eyes fluttered, her lips parted, her body melting against his every time he hit that perfect spot.
It was quiet. Just their breath, their soft groans, the wet sound of her taking him again and again. Yunho reached up, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered. “You know that?”
She smiled, biting her lip.
“Say it again.”
He did.
And when she came again, clenching around him with a broken moan and her forehead pressed to his, Yunho let himself go too, spilling into her with a groan so low it made Mingi stir beside them.
But he didn’t wake.
Not yet.
“You’re insatiable,” Yunho rasped, voice low, cracked with sleep.
“Blame you,” she whispered, kissing the edge of his mouth. “You ruined me last night.”
Her hips rolled again, slick sliding against him, so wet he could feel the heat of her, his dick already hardening again as she started to angle herself to take him again, ready to sink down slow, but Yunho caught her.
“No,” he said, voice suddenly sharp. Dominant. Awake. Her breath hitched as he flipped them with practiced ease, pressing her into the mattress, knees over his shoulders, and lined himself up with one hand.
He slammed into her in one deep, brutal thrust, Y/N screaming, back arching, legs shaking, hands clutching at the sheets like she didn’t know where she was anymore.
Yunho gritted his teeth and began pounding into her, fast, deep, every thrust a full body wrecking blow that left her crying out beneath him. “So good for me,” he growled, watching her unravel. “So fucking tight.”
She was already close again, her whole body trembling, eyes glassy and wet, mouth open as she panted his name like a prayer.
“I’m… close…. Yunho… please…..”
His hand slid between them, fingers pressing to her clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles, and when she came, she screamed. Her thighs locked around him. Her back arched. She squirted, soaking them both, her orgasm hitting so hard her voice broke.
Yunho groaned, hips stuttering.
“Fuck… Y/N… yes… come with me!”
He plunged in harder, chasing his release as Mingi groaned behind them. “What the…” he muttered, bleary eyed and half conscious, blinking as he looked over…
Only to see Yunho fucking her senseless into the mattress, sheets soaked, skin flushed, moans echoing around the room.
“You guys…” he groaned, flopping to his back with a hand over his eyes. “Seriously? Again?”
Before anyone could answer, there was noise outside in the hall.
They all froze.
“Y/N!” Seonghwa’s voice barked from the hallway, sharp and furious. “Mingi! Get your asses up! We’re already late for the Calvin Klein PR shoot!“
“Oh my God…” Yunho muttered through a groan, still buried inside Y/N, still hard, still so close.
Y/N clapped a hand over her mouth, biting back a laugh and a moan.
Mingi groaned again.
“Tell him we’re dead.”
Yunho buried his face in her neck, hips grinding once more as he growled low, teasing her just a little longer.
summary: yunho is trying to make a name for himself as a new up and coming photographer, he has no room for distractions, but model couple, y/n and mingi, seemed to want to tempt him
warnings: dom yunho, switch mingi, switch reader, possessive mingi, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, unprotected sex, creampie, eventual throuple, threesome, more to be added
genre: romance, drama, smut
pairings: photographer yunho x model afab reader x model mingi
word count: 8.5k
chapter one
chapter three
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The floor of their apartment was covered in half zipped suitcases, piles of black and denim, sunglasses, boots, garment bags, and an unopened bottle of wine Mingi had thrown in “just in case.” Y/N sat cross legged on the bed, folding a Balmain blazer with military precision, while Mingi rummaged through the bathroom looking for his cologne.
“Did you pack the chargers?” Y/N called out.
“Do I look like someone who packs chargers?” Mingi replied, voice muffled.
“No,” Seonghwa said as he stepped inside, tablet in hand, unbothered as usual by the chaos. “That’s why I brought extras.”
Y/N grinned up at him. “Our favorite control freak.”
Seonghwa didn’t even blink. “If I weren’t a control freak, you two would’ve missed your Vogue shoot entirely because you were too busy dripping coconut oil on each other.”
“That was artistic preparation,” Mingi argued, stepping into the room in a half buttoned silk shirt. “Mood setting.”
“For each other?” Seonghwa said dryly.
Y/N snorted.
“Alright,” he continued, ignoring them both as he pulled up their updated schedule. “You land in Paris Monday morning. Mingi, your Diesel fitting is at four. Y/N, Balmain has you booked all Tuesday. You’re walking in their closing show, so expect chaos, cameras, and Champagne.”
Mingi dropped down next to Y/N, glancing at the tablet. “Diesel’s letting me close too. Double trouble.”
“Fitting,” Seonghwa muttered. “You two are the embodiment of it.”
Y/N leaned back on her hands, twisting a silver ring around her finger. “You know what’s not fitting?”
“What?”
“We haven’t seen Yunho since the Vogue shoot,” she said, voice deceptively light. “Feels wrong, doesn’t it, baby?”
Mingi hummed, thoughtful. “Very wrong.”
Seonghwa sighed, not looking up. “Don’t even start.”
“We’re not starting anything,” Mingi said innocently.
Y/N tilted her head. “We just miss his photographic direction.”
Seonghwa shot them a look over the top of his tablet. “I’ve already spoken to his agency.”
Both heads snapped toward him.
“You what?” Mingi asked.
Seonghwa didn’t flinch. “There’s a chance he’ll be shooting some of the backstage portraits at Paris Fashion Week. Unconfirmed. So behave.”
Y/N lips curled. “Oh, we always behave.”
Seonghwa looked her dead in the eye. “You’ve never behaved a day in your life.”
She blew him a kiss.
Mingi stretched, draping an arm around her shoulders. “Paris is going to be fun.”
Seonghwa groaned. “Paris is going to be a migraine.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The sun was golden as it dipped over the rooftops, casting the streets of the Marais in that cinematic kind of glow that made everything feel like a movie. A breeze rolled in off the Seine, warm but sharp, lifting the edge of Y/N delicate silk and lace dress as she stepped onto the sidewalk, heels tapping a lazy rhythm.
She didn’t bother fixing the hem. She liked the way it felt.
Beside her, Mingi was all smooth shadows in head to toe black, loose trousers, fitted jacket, a sleek silver chain hanging from his neck, catching the light every time he moved. His sunglasses were perched low on his nose as he scanned the street, his arm casually slung around her waist.
They were fresh off the plane, checked into their suite not even an hour ago, and already too glamorous for the locals.
Y/N spotted the cafe first. A quiet one tucked away on the corner, its sidewalk tables half filled with beautiful people pretending not to care that they were being watched. She reached for Mingi’s hand. “Let’s grab something before the fitting.”
“I want coffee and something disgustingly French,” Mingi said, steering them toward the patio.
They barely got a few steps before she froze.
“Wait,” she murmured, fingers tightening slightly around his.
Mingi followed her gaze.
And there he was.
Yunho.
Sitting alone at a small round table near the edge of the cafe, camera resting on the table beside his drink, flipping through photos on his iPad with the same calm focus he always had. He was wearing a slate gray turtleneck under a structured coat, hair slightly tousled from the breeze, lips parted just enough to make it look unintentional.
He hadn’t seen them yet.
Y/N leaned in close to Mingi, her voice a soft murmur behind a teasing smile. “Fate has such impeccable timing.”
Mingi chuckled low, dark and amused. “Or Seonghwa lied about him being unconfirmed.”
Y/N didn’t wait, she stepped forward, hips swaying with purpose, her dress catching the light just right as she moved into his line of sight. Yunho looked up. Froze. Blinked.
Then sat back a little too quickly, like his spine had just remembered how to hold tension.
“Bonjour,” Y/N purred, reaching his table.
Yunho straightened. “Oh, hey. I didn’t know you two…”
“Were in Paris?” Mingi finished, sliding his sunglasses up onto his head, smiling like he already knew every thought Yunho was trying to push away. “Neither did you, apparently.”
Y/N leaned over the table slightly, lace neckline dipping in a way that made Yunho glance away for a second too long. “We missed your face, Yunho.”
His ears turned pink.
“I didn’t know I’d be seeing you again,” Yunho said, voice low, careful. “Not this soon.”
“We’re walking,” Mingi said easily. “Diesel for me. Balmain for her. Seonghwa’s working us to death.”
Y/N ran a finger around the rim of Yunho’s coffee cup. “Are you shooting backstage?”
Yunho hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Balmain and Diesel both, actually. Editorials. Portraits.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, eyes bright. “So we’ll be seeing a lot of you.”
Mingi pulled out a chair and sat down like he owned the whole sidewalk. “Might as well join you now. You know how the three of us always make the best pictures.”
Yunho swallowed, looking at the two of them like they were heat waves on pavement. Impossible not to stare at, impossible not to want.
“Yeah,” he said, slowly. “I remember.”
Yunho sat back in his chair, absently stirring his coffee, but his attention was fully on Y/N and Mingi.
They were laughing. Really laughing. There was something completely different about them now, something behind the smiles that wasn’t for the cameras. It was in the way Mingi’s hand rested on Y/N knee under the table, fingers lazily tracing circles on her skin. It was the quiet way she leaned in to whisper something in his ear, making Mingi’s whole face light up, the rare, real smile that was always so hard to catch on film.
Yunho’s gaze lingered on them, drawn to the unspoken intimacy between them.
They weren’t just models. They were… them. Y/N hand brushed against Mingi’s, his fingers wrapping around hers as they sat there, still as if the world around them didn’t exist. They weren’t putting on a show, this wasn’t for the photographers or anyone else. This was just… them.
Yunho had seen them on the runway, posing in front of cameras, every movement calculated and flawless. But now, in this quiet moment, he saw them as something else, two people who had built something real out of the glimmering world they existed in. The chemistry wasn’t just a facade. It was natural, like they’d been a couple for years.
The way Mingi looked at her.
The way she smiled softly at him, as if she couldn’t stop herself.
Yunho leaned back, unsure if he should look away. He felt almost like an intruder, like he was trespassing in a world he wasn’t supposed to see.
When Mingi caught his eye across the table, he didn’t even try to hide the smug grin that pulled at his lips. He was aware, aware of the way Yunho had been observing them, aware that he and Y/N had a kind of connection no one else could touch. Yunho felt his face flush, but Mingi didn’t break his gaze. Instead, he leaned in, dropping his voice low.
“You’ve been staring at us for a while, Yunho,” he teased, his tone smooth, like the kind of dangerous casualness that made Yunho’s heart skip.
Y/N, who had been absorbed in their little private world, glanced over at Yunho with a tilt of her head. “He’s just trying to figure out if he wants to take us home or if he’s already planning his next shoot,” she said, eyes dancing with mischief.
Yunho could feel his chest tighten, a heat crawling up his neck. “I…. uh…”
Mingi chuckled, rubbing his thumb across Y/N hand, squeezing it like he was marking territory. “It’s okay. We’re used to being admired.”
Y/N smiled, but there was something soft about it now. No longer playful, just… honest. She leaned in closer to Mingi, her lips brushing against his ear, and whispered something too quiet for Yunho to hear.
Whatever it was, Mingi’s smile grew wider, and it felt like the world shrank around them, making Yunho feel like an outsider in the moment they shared.
He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to stare.”
Y/N gaze softened, and she reached out, her hand brushing Yunho’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize. It’s just…” She met Mingi’s eyes, and for a moment, Yunho saw something deeper in her expression. Something almost… vulnerable. “Sometimes, we forget how to be ourselves when we’re always in the spotlight. You saw something real just now.”
Mingi’s gaze softened too, and he dropped a gentle kiss to her temple, the kind of kiss only someone who truly cared could give. “It’s easy to forget we’re more than just models.”
Yunho nodded, but his mind was racing. He hadn’t just seen two models today. He’d seen a couple, deeply in sync, aware of each other in a way that made Yunho feel like the third wheel just by being in the same room.
His stomach twisted, but he pushed the feeling aside. He had no place in their world. Not yet, at least.
“Well,” Yunho finally said, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll let you two enjoy your Paris coffee.”
Y/N gave him a smile, and this time, it was softer, more sincere. “Thanks for understanding. It’s just… sometimes we need a reminder of what we have when the cameras aren’t watching.”
Mingi slid his arm around her, pulling her a little closer, and winked at Yunho. “But don’t get any ideas. She’s taken.”
Yunho chuckled awkwardly, feeling a little too exposed. “Got it. No competition here.”
As they all sat back into a comfortable silence, Yunho couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just witnessed something precious, something far more than just what he’d expected from the pair of them.
He’d always seen the polished exterior of Y/N and Mingi. But this… this was the heart of who they were.
And he was starting to wonder if he was becoming too interested in it.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The city buzzed with that effortless Parisian elegance, lights flickering across cobblestone streets as Yunho followed Seonghwa and Hoshi Kwan into a dimly lit bar tucked off the beaten path. A cozy booth in the corner was waiting for them, and Yunho sank into the seat across from Hoshi, his mind still lingering on the earlier run in with Y/N and Mingi at the cafe.
He couldn’t lie to himself, seeing them again had messed with his head more than it should’ve. Not as models this time. Not styled for the camera. Just them. Y/N in that lace silk dress, Mingi all in black, his hand at the small of her back, their shared glances so intimate it made Yunho feel like an intruder.
“So, Yunho,” Hoshi was grinning as he leaned in, already sipping on a cocktail. “Seonghwa’s told me about you. Heard you worked with Y/N and Mingi.”
Yunho gave a slow nod, lips twitching into a modest smile. “Yeah, a couple of shoots now. The Vogue one was the most recent.”
Hoshi’s eyebrows rose. “Lucky you. Those two are something else.”
Seonghwa gave Yunho a look over the rim of his glass, one that said, see? I told you so.
Yunho chuckled, settling in. “You could say I was warned.”
Hoshi blinked, intrigued. “Oh?”
Seonghwa smirked. “I gave him the rundown. After the Calvin Klein shoot, I figured I should. Told him that whatever they were doing… it wasn’t just harmless teasing.”
“And?” Hoshi’s eyes twinkled. “Did you believe him?”
“I didn’t want to,” Yunho admitted, a little sheepish. “But I learned quick. Y/N not subtle when she wants something, and Mingi lets her have it, no hesitation. They move like they’ve been in sync their whole lives.”
Hoshi gave a low whistle. “You’re not wrong.”
There was a beat of silence before Hoshi leaned forward again, elbows on the table, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Since we’re talking about it… You know Kim Mingyu, right?”
Yunho tilted his head. “The Calvin Klein guy?”
“The very one,” Hoshi nodded, swirling his drink. “Used to be their third.”
Yunho’s eyebrows shot up.
“Not their last one,” Seonghwa added, “but definitely the one that did the most damage.”
“What happened?” Yunho asked, now fully engaged.
“Mingyu had too much chemistry with Y/N,” Hoshi said with a shrug. “Real heat between them. It pushed Mingi past his breaking point.”
“Thing is,” Seonghwa added, “Mingi tried to act like it didn’t bother him. But it did. He can be possessive. Mingyu didn’t back off either, he thought he had just as much of a claim.”
Hoshi nodded. “And when that line blurred, it got ugly. Shoot schedules fell apart, brands had to rework deals. Mingi pulled strings to make sure they wouldn’t work together again.”
“So now Mingyu’s off limits,” Seonghwa said. “And after that… they’ve been more careful. They’ve messed around, sure, but no one’s lasted long.”
“And definitely no one’s gotten close to what Mingyu had,” Hoshi finished, watching Yunho closely. “Just a friendly heads up.”
Yunho exhaled slowly, the weight of their words settling in his chest. He appreciated the warning, but he already knew he was in deeper than he should be.
And yet… that didn’t make him want to back off.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The venue was a vision, gleaming marble floors, gold accented walls, soft lighting casting everyone in a champagne glow. A listers mingled with designers and models, laughter and clinking glasses floating over bass heavy lounge music. Photographers flanked the sides of the main entrance, flashes popping in rapid fire as the biggest names in fashion made their entrances.
Yunho stood near the far edge of the room, camera slung around his neck despite the open bar and glittering crowd. He was here officially for press content, just a few photos for the Vogue recap piece, but his eyes kept straying toward the entrance, anticipation brewing low in his chest.
He didn’t have to wait long.
The room shifted.
Heads turned. Conversations paused.
Y/N walked in wearing a crimson Balmain dress, sculpted and dangerous, with sharp shoulders, a dipped neckline, and a hem that stopped mid thigh to show off legs that made photographers practically stumble over each other. Her lips were painted to match, deep red and unapologetically bold. Her hair was pinned up with a few loose strands framing her face, effortlessly sultry.
Next to her, Mingi looked like sin wrapped in Diesel black, fitted jacket, mesh shirt beneath it just sheer enough to tease, matching pants, and his signature cool expression that made people stop and stare.
They were a vision together. Magnetic. Electric.
Yunho lifted his camera on instinct and took a shot. And another.
But the real moment, the one that landed deep in his gut, wasn’t the outfit or the pose. It was the way Y/N leaned into Mingi as they walked, the casual possessiveness of his hand resting just above her hip, the way she looked up at him and laughed at something he said, eyes soft, mouth easy.
Not for show. Not for the camera.
That was just them.
Yunho lowered the camera slowly. His pulse picked up, something sharp curling behind his ribs.
They were always beautiful in front of his lens.
But this? This was real.
And it was starting to feel dangerous.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The party was a living, breathing thing, opulent and thrumming with curated decadence. Everywhere Yunho looked, there were flashes of wealth and beauty, Paris Fashion Week at its peak. But despite the chaos, his thoughts were unusually quiet, narrowing in on a single point that lingered like static behind his ribs.
He kept thinking about what Seonghwa and Hoshi said.
Kim Mingyu.
Not their last third, but the one who left a mark. The one who crossed a line.
And yet, here he was. Standing alone near the floor to ceiling windows of the pre gala party, drink untouched in his hand, camera slung against his hip, when the air shifted again.
Mingi.
Head to toe black Diesel, cutting through the room like he owned it. He didn’t say anything right away, just came to stand beside Yunho, gaze casually sweeping the crowd before glancing sideways at him.
“She wants you,” Mingi said simply. Voice low, like he was stating a weather report. “Y/N. She’s been talking about you since we met.”
Yunho’s stomach tightened, but he kept his expression even. “You’re really okay with that?”
Mingi’s lips curved slightly. “It’s not about me. It’s about her. And I don’t let her go without what she wants.”
Yunho studied him, pulse quickening. Mingi didn’t seem nervous. Didn’t seem threatened. But Yunho wasn’t stupid. He remembered Hoshi’s tone. The weight in Seonghwa’s voice when they’d said, Mingyu didn’t back off. And Mingi doesn’t forget.
So Yunho asked, quiet, honest, almost like he needed to hear it aloud.
“And you won’t get jealous?”
Mingi’s eyes met his, darker now, the curve of his mouth not quite a smile. “I didn’t say that.”
There was something loaded in the way he said it. A warning, maybe. Or a dare?
He clapped Yunho on the shoulder once, firm but friendly, then slipped back into the crowd, back to the woman in the red Balmain dress, who was already looking at Yunho like she’d been waiting for him all night.
Yunho didn’t have time to recover before she was there.
Y/N.
All crimson silk and impossible curves, her Balmain dress hugging her like it was made for seduction. Her walk was slow, deliberate, heels clicking softly against the floor, eyes locked on Yunho like he was her next indulgence.
“Photographer,” She purred when she reached him, fingers lightly trailing up his forearm. “You clean up well.”
Yunho swallowed hard. “So do you.”
She smiled, sultry and knowing. “I know.”
Her hand didn’t leave him. Instead, it slid up to his shoulder, thumb brushing along the lapel of his jacket as she leaned in, breath warm against his neck. “Been thinking about you,” She whispered. “About your hands. About how focused you look when you’re shooting.” Her mouth hovered just at his ear. “Bet you’d look even better focused on me without a camera.”
Yunho exhaled slowly, fighting the heat crawling up his spine. “Y/N…”
She pulled back only slightly, enough for their eyes to meet. Her gaze was playful, challenging, but there was something real simmering under it. Something that dared him to lean in.
Across the room, Mingi watched.
One hand in his pocket, jaw sharp, his expression unreadable, except for the fire behind his eyes. He wasn’t moving. He didn’t have to. He was watching his girl flirt with another man, and instead of stepping in… he let it happen.
Not jealous.
Not yet.
But the tension in his shoulders said he was waiting. Watching. Measuring Yunho.
Seonghwa stepped up beside him, casually sipping from a slim glass of champagne. His eyes followed Mingi’s, landing on the way Y/N fingers were now dragging lightly down Yunho’s chest, her lips parted as she laughed at something only the two of them could hear.
“She’s being bold tonight,” Seonghwa murmured.
Mingi didn’t say anything.
Seonghwa’s gaze narrowed, just slightly. “You okay?”
Mingi’s jaw ticked, but his voice was steady. “She wants him.”
“And you’re not jealous?”
“I haven’t been given a reason to be yet.”
Seonghwa’s lips twitched like he almost smiled, but there was no humor in it. Just quiet warning. “You remember the last person she wanted this bad didn’t end well.”
The name didn’t need to be said.
Mingyu.
Mingi’s eyes flicked sideways for a moment, sharp and thoughtful, but he didn’t respond. Just kept his gaze locked on Yunho.
And still, he didn’t stop her.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Later in the night, the party was louder, looser. Glasses clinked, music pulsed, and laughter echoed through the vaulted ceilings. But Mingi wasn’t laughing. Not anymore.
Seonghwa’s words lingered like smoke in the back of his mind.
The last person she wanted this bad didn’t end well
Mingyu.
That name still left a sour taste in his mouth.
Mingi had never been jealous of many things, never needed to be. But Mingyu had been different. Too confident. Too casual with Y/N. Too bold in the way he made her laugh and groan in the same breath. The way he started crossing lines Mingi hadn’t given him permission to cross.
And now Yunho was in the picture. Different, yes. Calmer. Smarter. But maybe that made him more dangerous.
Because Y/N wanted him just as bad.
And Mingi could see the way Yunho was fighting it.
So when she slipped away to get another drink, Mingi followed.
He caught her in the hallway outside the private lounge, quiet, dimly lit, walls lined with vintage photographs. She didn’t even get a chance to ask where he’d been before he was pressing her back against the wall, large hands on her waist, mouth brushing over her jaw.
“Mingi” She gasped, but she was already pulling him closer, dress sliding against his chest like a challenge.
“I needed to touch you.” He murmured into her neck. “Right now. After the way you looked at him.”
Her lips parted, her pulse quick under his mouth. “You weren’t jealous.”
“I wasn’t.” He kissed her. Slow and deep. “Then Seonghwa brought up Mingyu.”
Y/N laughed softly, wickedly. “Baby,” she whispered, biting his lower lip between her teeth. “Yunho’s not Mingyu.”
“I know.” His hands slipped under the hem of her dress, warm and firm. “But I still need you.”
She didn’t stop him. She never did.
His mouth found hers again, hungrier this time. She moaned into the kiss as he pressed her harder against the wall, his thigh slotting between hers, her dress riding higher…..
The door creaked open.
Yunho froze in the doorway.
Eyes wide. Breath caught.
He hadn’t meant to find them. He’d been looking for Seonghwa, or maybe a place to breathe, to shake off the feel of her touch still lingering on his skin.
But now he couldn’t look away.
Mingi’s mouth was on her throat. Her leg wrapped around his hip. Her lipstick smudged and her eyes half lidded, until they snapped open and met Yunho’s.
She didn’t look embarrassed.
She looked amused.
And worse… inviting.
Yunho blinked once, hard, like it might reset what he was seeing.
It didn’t.
Mingi’s hands were still gripping Y/N thighs, her leg still hooked around him, the two of them caught in a moment that felt too intimate, too raw, too private.
Yunho’s breath hitched, and he immediately stepped back, gaze darting to the floor. “Shit… I didn’t mean to… I was just looking for… sorry.” His voice was low, rushed, like he was fumbling for the doorknob with his words.
He turned.
But before he could make it two steps, her voice stopped him.
“Yunho.”
He froze.
Her tone wasn’t surprised or shy, it was laced with heat, curiosity. A tease, dressed up in velvet. He turned slightly, unsure if he was imagining the smirk in her voice or the glint in her eyes.
Y/N had gently slipped out of Mingi’s grasp, straightening her dress like it hadn’t just been bunched around her waist, smoothing her hair with a flick of her fingers. Mingi stayed where he was, watching her, his breathing slow and controlled, like he was waiting to see what she’d do.
She stepped toward Yunho, heels quiet on the dark wood floor.
“You’re not intruding.” She said, soft and coaxing, brushing an invisible wrinkle off his chest. “We were just… killing time.”
Yunho’s eyes met hers. “Y/N…”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then dragged up again. “You can stay. If you want.”
He swallowed hard. “Mingi?”
“I said,” She whispered, inching closer, “whatever I want, Mingi gives me.”
And behind her, Mingi hadn’t moved, but the look in his eyes said he heard her. That he meant it.
That if Yunho said yes, he wouldn’t stop it.
Yunho’s resolve was slipping.
Every breath he took was filled with her perfume, jasmine and heat and something else that only belonged to her. Y/N fingers danced along the edge of his collar, slow and deliberate, and her lips were so close he could feel the warmth of them. Her body fit perfectly in the space between him and the wall. And behind her, Mingi’s silence was more dangerous than any words, like he was waiting for Yunho to make a move. Giving permission without ever speaking it aloud.
Yunho’s hand lifted, fingers hovering just shy of her waist.
Almost.
Just as he was about to fall….
“Y/N!”
Seonghwa’s voice rang through the corridor, sharp and familiar.
Y/N froze, her eyes flicking toward the hallway entrance just as Seonghwa came into view, phone in hand and a slight roll to his step like he’d been hurrying.
He stopped short when he saw the three of them. His brows lifted, but otherwise, he didn’t react. He’d seen too much over the years to be easily surprised.
Still, his eyes settled squarely on her.
“Olivier Rousteing is looking for you,” he said calmly. “Something about last minute fittings. He wants you backstage ten minutes ago.”
Y/N blinked, almost pouting. “Now?”
“Yes. Now. You’re closing his show, remember?”
She let out a long, theatrical sigh, then turned back to Yunho, her fingers sliding down his chest as she stepped away. “Guess I’ll have to make you fall for me another time.”
Yunho exhaled like he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath.
She winked as she passed Seonghwa, swaying like sin in that red Balmain dress, and disappeared around the corner.
Mingi followed with a lingering glance at Yunho, one that held no malice… just a warning.
And then Yunho was alone with Seonghwa, pulse still racing, lips slightly parted.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “So… how close were you to making a mistake?”
Yunho didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The Diesel show was a fever dream of black leather, chains, and unapologetic confidence. The bass of the music thrummed through the venue like a pulse, strobes flashing over sharp silhouettes as model after model claimed the runway like a battlefield.
Yunho stood just behind the press line, his camera practically an extension of him. But he wasn’t looking through the lens as much as he should’ve been. His eyes kept drifting.
First to Mingi, storming down the runway in head to toe Diesel, tailored black pants hanging low on his hips, skin visible beneath a half unbuttoned shirt, gaze sharp and locked dead ahead. A commanding presence. A walking brand fantasy.
Then to Y/N, front row with Seonghwa, legs crossed beneath her sleek coat, blood red lips slightly parted as she watched Mingi walk like he owned the world.
And Yunho? He couldn’t help but watch her.
Even in a room full of flashing lights and impossibly beautiful people, she was the one that made time slow. As if the air bent a little differently around her.
Once Mingi’s set was done and he disappeared behind the curtains, the rest of the show continued, but Y/N didn’t stay seated. She leaned over to whisper something to Seonghwa, then rose from her seat with effortless grace.
Yunho barely caught her slipping through the side of the stage, and suddenly, she was there again.
Just the two of them.
Backstage, tucked away from the chaos, the sounds of the show muffled behind the heavy curtains. The lighting here was softer, less performance, more intimacy.
“You looked distracted,” her tone was light, teasing, amused. “Didn’t even raise your camera for half of Mingi’s walk.”
She stepped closer, eyes scanning his face like she could see every thought he hadn’t said out loud. Her fingertips brushed the strap of his camera, a lazy drag that made him still.
“You always watch like that?” she asked, eyes flicking to his lips. “Or just when it’s me?”
He hesitated.
That was enough.
Y/N took the space between them with a slow, confident step forward, fingers rising to gently fix the collar of his jacket, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. Her hand lingered. So did her eyes.
“You could’ve kissed me the other night,” she said, voice soft. “You wanted to.”
His breath hitched.
“I still want to.” He admitted.
She smiled like she already knew.
But just as he started to lean into her warmth, the scent of her skin clouding his head, he cleared his throat, his conscience slipping in like a shadow.
“I heard… about Mingyu.” He said carefully.
That name. It hung between them like a curtain abruptly pulled shut.
Y/N fingers stopped. She didn’t step back, but the temperature shifted.
“And?”
“I just..” Yunho held her gaze. “If that ended badly… maybe I’m not the smartest choice.”
A pause.
Then her hand slid up his chest, slow and deliberate, resting over his heart.
“You’re not him,” she remarked simply. “Don’t bring him up around Mingi.”
Yunho nodded once.
And when she stepped back this time, there was still heat in her gaze, but also a warning.
One he’d do well to remember.
She walked away from Yunho like nothing had happened.
Back straight, head high, heels sharp against the polished concrete floor. Her blood red lips stayed untouched, but her heart was pounding. Not because she’d crossed a line, but because he hadn’t stepped back.
Not really.
Mingi found her just behind the dressing area, his shirt still unbuttoned from the runway, his skin warm and flushed from the lights and adrenaline. He looked at her the way he always did, like she was his, and always would be.
“Where’d you sneak off to?” He asked, voice low, gaze sweeping her like he already knew the answer.
She tilted her head and smiled. “Had to find the photographer.”
His jaw flexed. Not in anger, but in anticipation.
“Did he say yes?”
“I think,” she started brushing her fingers down his bare chest, “he’s thinking about it.”
Mingi let out a low chuckle, but there was something darker behind it.
“Good,” he murmured, catching her wrist and tugging her just a little closer, “because I’ve been thinking about you all night.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Yunho stayed where she’d left him.
Shoulders against the wall, head tilted back, eyes closed for a beat too long. Her perfume clung to his skin like heat. His heart wouldn’t slow down, and his hands, steady as hell behind a camera, were slightly trembling.
She’d touched him again.
She wanted him again.
And she’d told him not to talk about Mingyu, her voice soft, but her eyes sharp enough to slice through every rational thought he was trying to cling to.
He’d thought Seonghwa and Hoshi were being dramatic, warning him off like he was some clueless rookie about to get eaten alive.
But now?
He could see it.
He could see how someone could get attached. Obsessed. Lost.
And that someone… could easily be him.
He pushed off the wall with a heavy sigh, trying to blink the heat from his vision, trying to remember that he was here for work. That this was fashion week. That he was already in too deep.
But then he thought of her lips, just inches from his, and how Mingi hadn’t even needed to be in the room for Yunho to feel owned.
He was already in it.
The real question was… how long before he stopped trying to climb out?
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The hotel suite was dimly lit, drenched in the soft amber glow of Paris night. Floor to ceiling windows framed the city skyline like a painting, but neither Y/N nor Mingi were looking outside.
Their focus was each other.
Y/N coat hit the floor first, the red silk of her Balmain dress clinging to her curves like it had been made just for her. Mingi’s fingers found the zipper immediately, dragging it down slowly, reverently, like every inch of her skin was something sacred he’d worshipped a thousand times and still couldn’t get enough of.
“You shouldn’t have gone after him like that,” he muttered, lips grazing her throat as the dress slipped from her shoulders.
Y/N smirked, fingers toying with the waistband of his black slacks. “Jealous?”
He didn’t answer. Not with words.
He kissed her like it was punishment and worship all at once, pressing her back into the plush bedding, hands everywhere, touch demanding but never cruel. Possessive, yes. But not insecure. He knew she was his.
Still, he had to remind her.
And in the room next door, through the wall, Yunho couldn’t breathe.
His camera bag was still on the floor where he dropped it. His shirt half buttoned from changing when he heard it, soft laughter, the dull thud of something hitting the wall. Then Y/N voice. Low, breathless. Intimate.
Then Mingi’s.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He told himself to get up, turn on the TV, distract himself. But he didn’t.
He sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, jaw clenched tight as the sounds filtered through the wall, quiet at first, then sharper. Moans swallowed by kisses. The creak of the bed. A laugh from her that made his stomach twist.
You could’ve kissed me the other night
He wanted to tell himself this was fine. That they were a couple. That he knew what he was getting into.
But knowing it and hearing it, feeling it, were two entirely different things.
When her voice hit just the right pitch, a soft, broken whisper of Mingi’s name that could’ve been his if he wasn’t so goddamn careful… Yunho had to get up. Had to put distance between himself and that wall or he was going to go insane.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Mingi was already deep inside her. Sweat slicked down his back, muscles flexing as his hips snapped forward again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls in the hotel room, them having no idea that Yunho was right next door, hearing every dirty sound, their moans like a rhythm only they knew.
Y/N hands were clenched in the sheets, her back arching as he drove into her harder, deeper, rougher than he had all night.
But it still wasn’t enough.
“More,” She gasped, voice wrecked and eyes wild, the word falling from her lips like a dare. “Mingi… fuck… give me more.”
He stilled for one agonizing beat.
Then he growled.
Not a word. A growl. A sound torn from his chest that rumbled through her spine and made her clench around him in anticipation. His hands grabbed her hips, tight, possessive, fingers digging in like he was marking her from the inside and out.
“You think I’m not giving you enough?” He muttered, voice low, dangerous, hot against her ear. “You wanna tell me how to fuck you now?”
She whimpered, but didn’t back down. “I can take it.”
He laughed, dark, amused, breathless.
“Oh, baby,” he hissed, dragging out slow, brutal thrusts now that made her legs tremble. “I know you can.”
And he started pounding into her like he meant to ruin her. Like he meant to leave her so full and sore that no one would ever forget who she belonged to, not even her.
Her cries turned into moans, broken, needy things as he hit a spot that made her legs lock around his waist. Her nails raked down his back, and it only made him go harder, one hand shifting up to wrap lightly around her throat as he looked down at her, sweaty, flushed, completely wrecked under him.
“Look at you,” he growled, thumb stroking over her chin possessively. “Fucking mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped, eyes rolling back as he angled his hips just right again. “Mingi…I’m yours”
“Damn right you are.” His grip on her tightened just a little, just enough to make her breath hitch. “No one else has ever fucked you this good. No one else makes you beg like this.”
Her back arched, body trembling on the edge, and he could feel it, the way her walls pulsed around him, the way her legs quivered.
“Come,” he ordered, voice sharp, raw. “Now.”
And she did. Clenching around him so hard he swore, burying his face against her neck as she shattered beneath him.
Y/N was still trembling beneath him, her body twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm when he pulled out with a hiss, not giving her even a second to breathe.
“Up.” He growled.
Before she could even process it, Mingi had flipped her over onto her stomach, hauling her hips up and sliding right back inside her with a brutal thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs. She cried out, legs spreading wider for him instinctively, back arching as he gripped her waist tight.
But then, oh, then, he leaned down, his chest flush against her back, and dragged her upright. One strong arm wrapped across her belly, the other snaked up, hand sliding around her throat again, not to squeeze, not yet. Just to hold her still. To own her.
He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, his voice low, cruel, intoxicating.
“Say it.”
She gasped, head falling back against his shoulder, body pinned perfectly against his.
“Say what?”
His grip tightened just enough to make her pulse stutter beneath his fingers.
“Say his name.”
Her entire body went still. Mingi grinned against her cheek, hips rolling into her slow and deep, every thrust angled to destroy her from the inside out.
“Yunho,” He murmured darkly. “Your favorite photographer. You’ve been giving him more attention than me.”
Her breath caught.
“Mingi…”
“I’m not mad,” he whispered. “Not even jealous. But I like the way his name sounds coming from you.”
He slammed into her again, rough and possessive, and her cry echoed through the room.
Her eyes fluttered, the mixture of desire for the photographer and lust driving her closer to the edge than she thought possible.
“Yu… yu…”
“Say it,” he growled, hand tightening, not enough to hurt, but just enough to command.
“YUNHO” His name left her in a gasped scream.
And Mingi snapped.
He fucked her harder, deeper, chasing the image of it, her moaning Yunho’s name while completely owned by him. The power of it, the sheer filth of it had him groaning against her shoulder, lost in the madness of it.
“You think he could fuck you like this?” He snarled, thrusts merciless. “You think Yunho could ruin you like I do?”
She couldn’t speak. She was gone, wrecked.
“I’ll make sure he knows,” Mingi growled, possessive to the bone. “I’ll leave you dripping with me… so when he finally breaks and finally fucks you, he’ll feel every last drop of me still inside you.”
She came again, hard. So hard it nearly blacked her out, his name sobbed into the sheets even as hers echoed off the walls.
And Mingi wasn’t far behind.
He could feel the tension building in his spine, the tight coil of pleasure wound so sharp it hurt. But just before he tipped over the edge, he pulled out, hissing through his teeth like it physically pained him not to finish.
“Turn around,” he panted, voice rough with restraint. “Ride me. Now.”
But Y/N didn’t move.
She twisted in his grasp, still breathless, still flushed, but her eyes, oh, her eyes were gleaming. Defiant. Dominant.
“No,” she said, slow and sultry, pushing him back onto the mattress instead. “You lay down.”
Mingi blinked once and then grinned, doing exactly what she said.
He dropped back, chest rising and falling as she crawled over him, straddling his hips with that wicked look in her eyes, her thighs still trembling and slick as she lined herself up and sank down on him all at once.
They both moaned, loud, raw, desperate.
“Shit,” he gasped, hands flying to her hips but she slapped them away.
“No touching,” she whispered, grinding down into his lap. “You wanted a show? Then watch.”
And fuck, he did.
He watched as she rode him slow, rolling her hips in tight circles, milking every inch of him like it was her right. Her hands dragged up his chest, nails scraping, back arched as she bounced, sweat dripping between her breasts. Mingi’s jaw clenched, veins in his neck straining.
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest.
“You like that?” she purred, breath hot against his mouth. “You like me using you like this?” He groaned, nodding frantically. “Yes…. fuck, yes. You feel so good… don’t stop, don’t…. fuck”
She slammed her hips down harder, riding him fast now, chasing her own release as much as his. Her head tilted back, mouth parting in a broken moan. “Say it.”
Mingi was almost complete mess. “Say what?” He was so close. Y/N reached up, hand wrapping around his throat just like he did her own. “Say… his name.”
Fuck! Mingi said his name in a broken growl as she pulled all the way off him, his tip just poking at her entrance. “Yunho…” Then she slammed back down on him.
“I’m gonna…. Mingi…. fuck… come with me,” she gasped, riding him rougher, faster. “Come inside me, come with me….now….”
He couldn’t hold back.
With a choked cry of her name, Mingi bucked up into her, his hands finally grabbing her hips as he thrust into her from beneath, coming hard, hot, and deep inside her just as she shattered around him. Her whole body trembled above him, legs locking tight, head dropping forward as she pulsed around him, dragging him through the kind of orgasm that left him wrecked.
They were still catching their breath, bodies slick and tangled, when Y/N slowly pulled off him, making Mingi groan from the sudden emptiness.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, one arm flung over his eyes. “You’re gonna kill me.”
But she wasn’t done.
She slid down the bed between his legs, her fingers wrapping around his still sensitive length, already hardening again, because his body knew hers like an addiction.
Mingi’s breath hitched.
“Baby, what’re you….”
“Shhh,” she cooed, stroking him slow. “You can take it.”
His hips twitched, muscles already taut again. She moved her hand with teasing purpose, slick, warm, her thumb swiping over the head as she watched him unravel with every stroke.
“Y/N… fuck, I’m….” he gasped, thighs tensing.
“Come for me,” she whispered, hot breath ghosting over him. “Come just from this.”
And he did. With a broken moan, Mingi’s back arched, his body jerking as thick ropes spilled over her hand. He was still groaning when her other hand pushed against his chest, and she was crawling over him again.
“Wait…wait….” But she didn’t wait. She lined herself up with him, still twitching, still throbbing in her grip, and sank down on him with a breathless sigh.
Mingi shouted.
“Holy fuck… baby… I just came!”
“I know,” she purred, riding him slow and deep, her hands on his chest as she started to roll her hips again. “You can still take it.”
He was wide, eyed, panting, a little delirious as she used him again, his dick still oversensitive, her body squeezing around him like she owned him.
“Too much?” she asked sweetly, biting her bottom lip as she bounced just a little harder.
His fingers curled into the sheets.
“Yes… no… fuck, I don’t know”
She leaned down, lips brushing his ear. “You said you wanted Yunho to fill you still dripping inside me.” She wqs still grinding on him slowly, her breath catching every time his dick twitched inside her. Her body was greedy, hungry, rolling her hips with teasing, rhythmic control that had Mingi’s thighs trembling again.
But she should’ve known better.
Because he warned her.
He growled low in his chest, hands tightening around her hips, and before she could blink, he snatched her wrists, yanking them behind her back in one quick, dominating motion.
She gasped, body jolting forward, but he was already sitting up, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other holding her wrists tight behind her. He pulled her flush against his chest, caging her in with raw, unrelenting strength.
“You think you get to fuck me like that,” he snarled into her ear, “tease me with him and walk away on your own two legs?”
Her body arched helplessly, back bowing into him, her nails digging into her own palms. “Mingi..”
“No. You wanted to ride me? You wanted to tease me? Now you take it.”
And he started pounding into her, deep, hard, merciless thrusts that had her moaning uncontrollably, her legs locked around his waist as he used her exactly how he needed. Her arms were still pinned, her body fully his to manipulate, and the angle he was hitting now was criminal.
“Look at you,” he growled, biting down against her shoulder. “So fucking drunk on my dick. You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think. Her head dropped against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent scream as he drove her straight to the edge again.
“Come on,” he panted against her neck. “Come with me. I wanna feel you squeeze the fuck out of me. You’re gonna come so hard it’ll push me out.”
And that was it.
Y/N shattered in his arms, her walls clenching tight, her whole body convulsing around him as she cried out his name. Mingi’s grip turned bruising, thrusts erratic, deeper than before, until he let out a ragged, desperate moan and buried himself inside her, his entire body locking up as he came hard, spilling into her in deep, pulsing waves.
They froze there, tangled together, breathless and wrecked, his chest heaving against her back, his dick twitching inside her, her legs still trembling as they both came down from the high.
He finally let go of her wrists, his hands smoothing over her hips and stomach as he kissed the side of her neck.
“That’s what you get,” he murmured, voice ragged and smug.
Y/N slumped against him, completely spent.
“I think I broke you,” he added, a little too proud.
She didn’t answer.
She just groaned.
But he felt the way her hips moved again. Just a little.
And it was his turn to groan.
“You’re insane,” he muttered.
“Insatiable.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The grand hall glittered like something out of a fever dream, crystal chandeliers above, gold accented pillars framing the sleek runway that cut through the room like a line of fire. A sea of editors, celebrities, influencers, and photographers filled the space with buzzing conversation and designer perfumes.
Yunho stood near the media pit, camera raised, body tense.
He hadn’t seen Y/N or Mingi all day.
But he’d heard them last night.
He hadn’t meant to. Had barely meant to listen. But it had happened, and now, the sound of her voice, the gasps, the laughter, the raw edge of Mingi’s groan, hearing Y/N scream his name not Mingi’s, it all haunted him.
And now he was here, waiting to capture Y/N in Balmain’s latest masterpiece like he hadn’t spent the previous night with her name tangled in his throat and his hand clenched into the sheets.
He shifted, focusing the lens.
“Hey, lover boy.”
A low voice behind him made his pulse jump.
Yunho didn’t even have to turn around.
Mingi.
He wasn’t in the front row with Seonghwa or the brand executives, no, he was lingering behind Yunho, clearly avoiding the spotlight, eyes scanning the crowd like he was there for something more dangerous than fashion.
Or someone.
“Didn’t expect to see you up and moving so early,” Mingi murmured, stepping in a little closer. His voice was casual, but his tone wasn’t. “You look tired.”
Yunho kept his camera up. “Didn’t sleep much.”
“Shame. We slept great.”
Yunho clenched his jaw, said nothing. Did they know his room was next to theirs?
His attention was pulled back to the runway when the music shifted and the light lit it up.
And Y/N stepped out.
Yunho’s breath caught. The crowd murmured with admiration.
She was a vision, clad in a structured, deep cut red Balmain mini dress with long sleeves and sharp shoulders, cinched at the waist. Her hair was sleek, parted down the middle. Lips bold and crimson. Legs endless beneath the fabric, heels deadly.
She walked like she knew the world would stop for her. Because it always did.
She didn’t even look at Yunho.
But he saw the hint of a smirk when she passed.
“Stunning, huh?” Mingi murmured behind him, watching the exact moment Yunho’s fingers twitched on the camera again.
“She’s… something,” Yunho muttered, barely able to focus through the viewfinder.
Mingi leaned in just slightly, voice low and laced with amusement. “You always shoot with your jaw that tight? Or is that a Y/N problem?”
Yunho didn’t answer.
But the heat in his chest said more than words ever could.
Yunho’s camera clicked again, shutter sharp, crisp, too many shots taken too fast. His pulse was hammering, eyes following the smooth arc of Y/N stride like gravity itself had shifted to center on her.
From behind, a breath touched his neck.
Warm. Deliberate.
Mingi stepped forward, closer. Closer than necessary. Close enough Yunho could feel the brush of his chest against his back, could count the beats in the silence.
“You watch her like I do,” Mingi murmured, voice silk and smoke in his ear.
Yunho froze.
His hands didn’t move, but the breath left him in a shallow rush.
Because it was true.
And Mingi knew it.
That same hushed worship in Yunho’s gaze, the magnetic pull he tried to deny every time she passed him, Mingi had seen it. Felt it. The way Yunho’s eyes always, always, found her first. The way his jaw clenched like every inch of her was a temptation he wasn’t allowed to touch.
Yunho swallowed hard, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t remember how.
Mingi’s smile, barely there, grew against the edge of Yunho’s jawline. Not cocky. Not mocking. Just quiet understanding.
“I don’t blame you,” he added softly. “But if you want her…” His hand ghosted just beside Yunho’s hip, never touching, but near enough to feel the warning behind the heat. “You better be ready.”
Then he stepped back, vanishing into the shadows of the stage wings just as Y/N reached the end of the runway, pausing in a perfect pose, her red dress catching the light like flame.
summary: yunho is trying to make a name for himself as a new up and coming photographer, he has no room for distractions, but model couple, y/n and mingi, seemed to want to tempt him
warnings: dom yunho, dom mingi, switch reader, possessive mingi, choking, overstimulation, fingering, eventual throuple, threesome, more to be added
genre: romance, drama, smut
pairings: photographer yunho x model afab reader x model mingi
word count: 5.8k
chapter two
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The studio was already alive by the time Y/N and Mingi arrived, the familiar buzz of a major fashion shoot filling the massive space. Bright lights hung from trusses overhead, casting soft glows across the pristine white backdrop. Racks of Calvin Klein pieces, cotton briefs, black denim, cropped tanks, lined one wall. Steam hissed in the air. Assistants moved quickly, speaking in clipped, purposeful tones.
Mingi slung an arm lazily around Y/N shoulder as they stepped inside, both of them dressed down in sweats and sunglasses, casual royalty. They had done shoots like this dozens of times, Calvin Klein loved the two of them, loved the way their chemistry came through on camera, the way people couldn’t look away.
Seonghwa, their longtime manager and friend, spotted them instantly. “Finally,” he exhaled, checking his watch. “You’re late.”
“We’re always late,” Y/N said with a grin, slipping her sunglasses off and tossing them into her tote. “The shoot doesn’t start without us.”
Seonghwa didn’t argue, she was right. Instead, he turned on his heel and waved them over. “Your photographer’s already here. Brand new guy. Vogue’s been whispering about him for weeks. I met a little while ago. Very up and coming. Very talented.”
Mingi lifted an eyebrow. “They couldn’t book someone we’ve actually heard of?”
“He’s good,” Seonghwa said firmly. “Fresh eyes. You’ll like him.”
Y/N exchanged a look with Mingi. She could already tell he wasn’t thrilled, they were used to working with legends, not rookies, but she squeezed his hand in that subtle way that grounded him. Let’s just feel it out.
Around the corner of the backdrop, a tall figure stood quietly adjusting his camera. He wore all black, slim jeans, a tucked in tee, boots worn in from use, not fashion. His dark hair was slightly tousled like he’d been too focused to fix it. There was an easy confidence in his movements, nothing flashy, but something about him pulled focus, clean, understated, dangerously calm.
“Yunho,” Seonghwa called out. “Come meet your models.”
Yunho looked up. His eyes swept over Y/N, then Mingi, quick but precise, like he was already framing them in his mind. He stepped forward, camera strap slung across his chest, hand outstretched.
“Jeong Yunho.”
Mingi shook his hand first, giving it a firm squeeze and holding it just a second longer than necessary. Not a threat, not exactly. More like a quiet test.
Y/N took his hand next. His grip was warm, steady. His hand so big, yet delicate at the same time swallowing her own. Her gaze lingered on his face for a beat longer than she meant to, his lips slightly parted like he’d just been mid thought, the faintest dimple tucked into one cheek. Up and coming, huh?
“You done many shoots like this?” she asked.
“Not like this,” Yunho said, his voice smooth but grounded. “But I’ve studied your work. I know how to bring out what you both do best.”
Mingi glanced at Y/N, catching the way her lips quirked slightly. She was intrigued. That quiet flare of curiosity in her eyes always came before something… intoxicating and messy.
He slid his arm back around her waist, claiming without words. “Hope you’re ready for us, then.”
Yunho nodded, calm as ever. “I am.”
Backstage, a team of stylists descended on them with practiced ease. Y/N sat in front of the mirror, a makeup artist already brushing primer across her cheekbones while another worked through her hair. Mingi was in the next chair over, one hand lazily scrolling his phone while a stylist fitted him with a Calvin Klein tank and briefs that clung to his body in all the right places.
“Can you tighten this waistband?” Mingi asked, lifting his shirt slightly to reveal the toned cut of his abs. The stylist adjusted it quickly, giving a nod of approval.
Y/N caught the movement in the mirror and smirked. “Show off.”
He shrugged. “Brand wants sexy. I’m giving sexy.”
“You’re giving cocky,” she teased, then glanced toward the open doorway where Yunho stood, casually flipping through his shot list, camera hanging from his neck. He was talking with the lighting director, nodding at something, his body language calm, centered, like he belonged there even if this was his first major campaign.
Mingi caught her staring, not the first time in the last ten minutes. His reflection in the mirror raised an amused brow.
“You’ve looked at him, like, five times in the last three minutes.” He said casually.
“I’m observing,” she replied, though the flush rising in her cheeks said otherwise.
He leaned toward her, lips brushing just behind her ear. “You forget how well I know you?”
Y/N didn’t answer, but she bit back a smile.
Mingi chuckled softly, voice lower now. “That look you get when you want something? I invented that look, baby.”
She tilted her head, eyes on his in the mirror. “What if I do?”
He grinned, hand sliding to her thigh under the cape of her robe, his pinky finger ghosting, tracing at the lace of her panties. “Then I guess I better figure out if he’s any fun.”
Her heart skipped at that, not just at the idea, but at how easily he said it, like he’d already made the decision.
“So you’re going to let me have him?” she asked, lips curling with mischief.
Mingi shrugged. “I mean… we’ve tried before. Didn’t work out.”
“Yeah, but he’s not like the others.”
“I noticed,” he said, eyes flicking back toward Yunho, who looked up at that exact moment, meeting Y/N gaze through the mirror like he’d felt it, his gaze lingered down where Mingi’s hand was still under her robe. He quickly avoided his eyes and met Y/N own once again.
Their eyes locked. He didn’t smile. He just looked. Measured. Not backing down.
Mingi leaned in again, low and teasing. “You’re wondering how he looks when he loses control, aren’t you?”
Y/N hummed, noncommittal. But her grin gave her away.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The lights were warm. Soft, directional, angled just right to cast shadows down sculpted bodies. The set was minimalist, just a mattress on the ground, white backdrop, and Calvin Klein’s signature black and white color palette everywhere.
Yunho adjusted his camera lens, checking the light meter. His fingers were steady, but his jaw was tight.
“Alright,” he called out. “Let’s start with Mingi lying down. Y/N, kneel behind him, hands on his chest. Don’t overthink it, just let it breathe.”
They moved like pros, muscle memory kicking in, slipping into place like they’d done it a hundred times. But even so, Yunho could tell, there was a natural heat between them, something that didn’t need direction. It just was.
“Good,” he murmured behind the camera. “Mingi, look up at her. Y/N, look at me.”
And she did.
Right into the lens. Head tilted just enough to show the curve of her throat, fingers lightly dragging down Mingi’s chest like it was nothing. Her expression was soft, parted lips, eyes slightly narrowed, flirtatious in that subtle, calculated way that made the viewer lean in closer.
Yunho’s throat bobbed as he clicked the shutter.
“Switch it up,” he said, a little rougher than before. “Y/N, lay back this time. Mingi, hand on her thigh. Pull her toward you.”
Y/N slid down, arching her back just enough to make it artful, deliberate. She tugged her Calvin Klein briefs higher on her hips, smoothing the fabric. Her eyes never left Yunho.
“Like this?” She asked, voice syrupy sweet, one hand braced beside her and the other toying with the waistband at her hip.
Mingi caught the tone immediately. His hand slipped up her thigh, dangerously close to the fabric line. “You’re doing it again,” he muttered, low enough that only she could hear.
“Doing what?” she whispered, knowing damn well what she was doing.
Driving the photographer crazy.
Yunho lowered the camera for just a second, blinking hard like he needed to reset his focus. “You can keep eye contact,” he said. “That’s fine.”
Y/N bit her lip, giving him a look that walked the line between innocent and wicked. “Whatever the artist wants.”
Click. Click.
Yunho kept shooting, but the way his fingers tightened on the camera gave him away. Mingi noticed. Every inch of it.
And he wasn’t mad. He was curious.
“Let’s try one more,” Yunho said, voice lower now. “Y/N on your knees. Back to the camera. Mingi behind her, arms around her waist. Pull her in like you’re trying to hide her from the world.”
Y/N moved into position slowly, glancing over her shoulder as she sat back against Mingi’s chest. She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, letting her head rest on his collarbone.
“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” She whispered to Mingi, so soft he almost missed it.
He smirked, brushing her hair off her shoulder. “You really want him?”
Y/N looked at Yunho again, gaze direct. Lethal.
“I want to see if he cracks.”
Yunho almost did. The camera trembled in his hands for half a second. And Mingi, watching from behind her, just smiled like he was already one step ahead of the game.
Yunho lowered the camera slowly, letting it rest against his chest. His voice came out quieter this time, tight with restraint.
“Alright. That’s…. yeah. Let’s take a break.”
Mingi immediately rolled off the set mattress, stretching his arms behind his back. Y/N moved more slowly, deliberately. She stood and smoothed her hair, then adjusted her briefs with a casual flick of her fingers that drew Yunho’s eyes before he could stop himself.
She saw it. Of course she did.
“Everything okay?” She asked, brushing past him to grab a water bottle from the cart. She stood close, too close for how warm she was, how good she looked under those lights. The sweet smell of vanilla and strawberries.
Yunho nodded once. “You two shoot well together.”
“You mean we look hot.” Her voice had a lilt to it, light but laced with purpose.
Yunho glanced toward where Mingi stood, now shirtless and joking with one of the stylists. The man was beautiful, tall, maybe only an inch shorter than Yunho himself, broad, carved like sculpture.
“It’s part of the job.” Yunho replied evenly.
Y/N leaned back against the table, sipping her water. “You always get that serious when you work?”
“I’m focused.”
“You’re tense.” She stated, tipping her head. “Bet you didn’t think this kind of shoot came with this much… heat.”
Yunho looked at her then, fully. “No. But I’m not surprised.”
Her lip curled slightly, pleased. She leaned in a little closer, dropping her voice so low it felt like a secret. “You gonna break, Yunho?”
His breath caught, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, his lips quirked.
“I don’t break that easy.”
From across the room, Mingi’s voice rang out, teasing. “You flirting without me again?”
Y/N turned just as Mingi wandered over, slinging a sweatshirt loosely around his shoulders. He looked between her and Yunho, eyes glinting with mischief and curiosity. “You two getting along?” His arms snaked around Y/N waist, pulling her against him but her gaze never left Yunho.
“We’re feeling each other out.”
Mingi raised a brow, catching the tension, smirking. “You always do this when you want something.”
Yunho’s eyes narrowed slightly, trying to read what this was, if it was a trap, or an invitation. “What are you doing?”
“Maybe she’s curious,” Mingi brushed a kiss to her neck. “Or maybe we both are.”
Y/N didn’t say a word. Just smiled, slow and knowing.
And Yunho… well, he didn’t break.
But it was the first time he blinked.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The final set was the most intimate yet.
White bed sheets draped across the mattress now, rumpled just enough to suggest something happened there. The lighting had shifted, warmer, softer, golden like morning after light.
Y/N emerged from behind the divider first, now wearing only a Calvin Klein bralette and matching underwear, the red sheer mesh clinging perfectly to her skin. She walked barefoot, movements unhurried, sultry without trying. Mingi followed, equally stripped down, red briefs hugging his hips, his skin glistening faintly from a light oil mist the stylist had applied to bring out definition.
Yunho adjusted the settings on his camera, jaw tight, breath measured. Professional. That was the mantra. Stay professional.
“Same setup.” He said, voice low. “This time… Y/N, lay on your back. Mingi, over her, hold yourself up. Almost like you’re about to kiss her. Keep it close, but don’t touch lips.”
Y/N paused, standing at the edge of the mattress. Then she turned to Yunho, lips curling into a wicked smirk.
“Oh?” she said sweetly. “And what if we do touch lips?”
Mingi chuckled under his breath behind her, clearly enjoying this.
Yunho didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared at her, dead on. “Then we retake the shot.”
Y/N held his gaze for a beat longer, a silent little dare in her eyes, then turned and lowered herself to the mattress like silk. Mingi followed, bracing himself above her, their bodies close enough for their heat to blur the line between real and posed.
Yunho lifted the camera.
“Perfect…” he muttered, voice tight, strained.
Click. Click.
“Good. Mingi, hand on her waist. Drag it down her side.”
Click.
Y/N let out a soft, breathy sound, not scripted, not rehearsed. It made Yunho’s throat go dry. His finger hovered on the shutter before he remembered to press.
“Y/N, tilt your chin. Close your eyes.”
She did. But the smirk lingered, just enough to say, I know you’re watching me.
Click.
He moved to a new angle, just to get away from the way her legs hooked around Mingi’s waist, how her fingers dragged slowly up his arm. It was instinct, chemistry, passion, and none of it helped Yunho keep his mind clear.
Click.
He told himself they were just performers. A couple. Comfortable. Maybe even messing with him. Trying to throw him off his game.
But when Y/N turned her head just enough to look at him through her lashes, lips still slightly parted from the pose, heat rolling off her skin like perfume, it wasn’t a game anymore.
And Mingi saw it. Smirked.
Yunho lowered the camera.
“That’s… enough….” his voice was hoarse. “We got what we need.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. Just turned toward the monitor station, pretending to review the shots, pretending he hadn’t just spent the last hour holding back the urge to walk onto the set and ruin every take.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The studio had emptied out quickly once Yunho called wrap. Assistants began tearing down light stands, stylists packed up racks, and Mingi had disappeared behind the divider to change back into his streetwear. Seonghwa stood by the exit, already on his phone, murmuring something about traffic and a Diesel fitting they were due at within the hour.
Yunho stayed at the monitor station, flipping through the shots without really seeing them. He needed the cool down. He needed the distance. His hands weren’t shaking, but they didn’t feel steady either. His pulse hadn’t dropped since Y/N looked him dead in the eye mid shoot and practically dared him to break.
He heard her before he saw her.
Soft footfalls. Bare feet against the studio floor.
“I figured I’d find you here,” Y/N said casually, leaning one shoulder against the edge of the station. She was still in the Calvin Klein robe someone had tossed her after the shoot, loosely tied at her waist, makeup slightly smudged, giving her a sleepy, just rolled out of bed look that did nothing to help Yunho get his head back in the right place.
“You’re not dressed yet.”
“Neither are you.” She quipped. “You look like you just walked out of a fever dream.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re flushed.”
“It was warm under the lights.”
Y/N tilted her head, eyes scanning him like she didn’t believe a word of it. Then she leaned a little closer, her voice dropping.
“You know,” she said, “Mingi’s always been really good at giving me what I want.”
Yunho’s breath stilled in his throat. He turned, just enough to look at her, her eyes glinting under the soft glow of the screen. She wasn’t being subtle. But she wasn’t throwing herself at him either. It was… dangerous. Calculated. Fun.
He raised a brow, steadying himself. “That right?”
“Mhm.” She toyed with the edge of her robe, not quite opening it, but not exactly tightening it, either. “Clothes. Travel. Great sex. Other people.”
His jaw tightened. “Is that what this is?”
She blinked, all wide eyed innocence. “What?”
“You messing with the new guy? Seeing how far you can push before he snaps?”
Y/N gave a slow smile, stepping just slightly closer. “If I were messing with you,” she smirked, “you’d already be begging.”
Yunho’s fingers curled into his palms, still pretending like he wasn’t tempted. But she saw it. She felt it.
From across the room, Seonghwa called out, “Y/N! We gotta go!”
She didn’t look away.
“Coming,” she called, then gave Yunho one last lingering glance. “See you around, Yunho.”
And then she was gone, bare feet slipping across the floor, robe swaying behind her as she disappeared behind the divider again.
Leaving Yunho alone. Still flushed. Still burning.
And very aware that whatever she wanted… Mingi would give it to her.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The sun had barely started peaking through the clouds, light casting shadow as Mingi trailed kisses up the back of Y/N legs, biting at her thighs as she lay on her stomach, moans muffled into the pillows as two of his fingers worked at her.
“Are you thinking about him?” He pulled his fingers back, sucking them clean as Y/N whimpered in protest. He used the same hand to guide himself to her soaked and aching cunt, tip pressing just barely into her.
Mingi ran a hand up her back, fingers tangling into her hair and pulling her head back so he could look down at her. “You are, aren’t you…”
Y/N managed a smirk, voice shaky and a little breathless. She stared up at him, hands reaching back to grip at his hips, pulling herself back, making his entire length stretch her, walls tightening around him as she moaned.
“Maybe…”
Mingi grinned, letting her hair go, pushing herself back down into the mattress, hands gliding down to her hips, gripping and then finally moving, thrusts deep, fast pace, a little rough. “Say it…”
He let her hips go, reaching up, chest pressing against her back as he laced his fingers with her own, pinning her arms above her head, their bodies pressing together making his thrusts a little slower. “Say his name.”
Y/N was at that point where whatever Mingi told her, she would do it as long as it meant he would fuck her, harder, let her come. “Yunho… fuck…” she was becoming incoherent now, voice falling into nothing but broken sobs and moans.
Mingi let her go, pulling out just as she was about to reach that beautiful high… “Again.” He turned her over, hand on her hip as she panted, a dazed look in her eyes. “Say it again and I’ll let you cum.” He’s never done this before, he actually never liked hearing her moan one of their little lover’s names.
Y/N blinked up at him, reaching down, voice hoarse, body flushed as her hand gripped him, guiding him herself back inside her, Yunho’s name leaving her in a broken moan.
And Mingi had no idea why her saying the photographers name turned him on so much, his hips snapped as soon he was fully back inside her, placing her legs against his chest, feet at his shoulders, one hand reaching up to grip at her throat, his other reaching to bring two of his fingers down to meet where his dick was filling her, fucking her, slipping them in along easily with how wet Y/N was.
His fingers thrusted right along with him, Y/N a fucked out mess under him, legs shaking, and when he pulled his fingers out, clear liquid tried spraying but kept getting sloshed back from his dick.
“You gonna make a mess for me?” Mingi growled as she tightened around him repeatedly, his thumb finally rubbing at her swollen clit and that was like breaking the dam. She came with a scream, incoherent, and one, two more thrusts, Mingi followed her, coming so hard he felt himself shake, but he kept going, overstimulating them both, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head as the aftershocks hit, both of them coming again.
Mingi had to pull out, the feel of her too much, Y/N squirting all over him when he did, the clear liquid no longer suppressed by the size of him, soaking the sheets and the mattress.
The bell rang loudly throughout the apartment and Y/N groaned, still trying to catch her breath. “If that’s a delivery, I’m kicking someone.”
“It’s Seonghwa,” Mingi muttered. “He’s the only one who knocks like he pays rent.”
Another knock. Sharper this time.
Y/N rolled out of bed with a lazy stretch, grabbing Mingi’s shirt from the floor and tugging it over her head. Her hair was a mess, her legs still bare, a little shaky, but she didn’t care. She padded barefoot to the door and cracked it open.
“Seonghwa.”
The man himself stood there with his usual black on black fit and a tablet in hand. Unbothered. Unshaken. Completely unfazed by the sight of her in nothing but Mingi’s shirt and the obvious glow of post sex haze lingering in the apartment.
“Morning,” he said, walking in without waiting to be invited. “You two done defiling the sheets? Good. I’ve got updates.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch as Seonghwa wandered into the living room like he owned the place. Mingi emerged a second later in just his boxers, yawning and rubbing at his chest.
“You’re early.”
“You’re predictable.” Seonghwa replied flatly. He scrolled on his tablet, not bothering to look up. “You’ve got a new shoot. Vogue. Tomorrow morning. It’s a big one, global cover.”
Y/N perked up. “Vogue?”
“Yeah,” Seonghwa said, still scrolling. “And Yunho’s shooting it.”
That got Mingi’s attention. “Again?”
Seonghwa looked up now, eyes flicking between them, then sighing dramatically as he leaned against the kitchen island. “Yes, again. And before either of you start, no, I’m not an idiot. I know what you’re doing.”
Y/N blinked innocently. “Doing?”
“Don’t,” Seonghwa cut in, holding up a hand. “I’ve been your manager for four years. I’ve also been your closest friend longer than that. I was there when you tried adding Wooyoung to your little situationship circus, remember?”
Mingi snorted. “He begged to join.”
“And he ran off two weeks later.” Seonghwa reminded him.
Y/N sighed, stretching her arms over her head. “He was too bratty.”
“He cried because you didn’t text him back for a day.” Mingi added, sitting beside her.
“Exactly,” Seonghwa said, like he was still processing the emotional damage from that era. “So before you decide to start slow burning another poor soul just because he has great bone structure and big hands..”
“Really big hands.” Y/N murmured with a smirk.
Seonghwa didn’t flinch. “Just remember, Vogue isn’t into behind the scenes drama. You keep it sexy on camera, fine. Sell the fantasy. But if this turns into another mess, I’m not babysitting your chaos again.”
Y/N grinned, unbothered. “We’ll behave.”
“You’ll try,” Seonghwa corrected. “Anyway. We’re leaving at 8:00.”
With that, he turned and let himself into the kitchen, completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just walked in on the aftermath of hot sex and delivered a verbal slap to both their faces.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The Vogue studio had a different kind of energy. Bigger. Sleeker. Expensive in a way you could feel in your bones.
Tall windows flooded the space with natural light, diffused by sheer white curtains that billowed gently in the breeze of strategically placed fans. Stylists, lighting techs, and assistants moved with practiced efficiency. Every step, every click of a heel, was part of the well oiled high fashion machine.
Yunho was already there, standing near a monitor with his camera slung over his shoulder. He wore black dress pants and a fitted charcoal shirt, sleeves pushed to his elbows, collar open just enough to show a sliver of collarbone. His dark hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his hand through it one too many times.
He didn’t notice the door open at first.
But he felt it.
Y/N entered first, long beige trench coat belted at the waist, dark sunglasses pushed up into her hair. Her legs bare beneath the coat, a flash of thigh visible as she walked. Mingi followed behind, tall and relaxed, dressed down in a gray hoodie and black joggers, his face free of makeup, hair styled into soft waves.
Yunho turned, just as Y/N unbelted the coat and shrugged it off into a stylist’s waiting hands.
Underneath, she wore a silk camisole so delicate it looked like moonlight on her skin, and lace trimmed shorts that barely covered her thighs. Nothing vulgar, everything intentional. Soft. Dangerous.
His eyes skipped straight to her, then back to the monitor like he hadn’t seen a thing.
“Yunho,” Seonghwa’s voice came from behind, perfectly timed as always.
He walked in holding a clipboard and an iced americano, dressed in sleek black as if he, too, was part of the editorial staff.
“Seonghwa,” Yunho greeted, adjusting the focus on his lens. “they’re early.”
“They’re never early,” Seonghwa said, without missing a beat. “they just know how to make an entrance.”
Mingi was already chatting with a makeup artist. Y/N gave Seonghwa a kiss on the cheek and whispered something that made him roll his eyes.
Then she turned her gaze onto Yunho. “Miss us?”
Yunho didn’t blink. “Nope.”
Y/N smiled like he’d said yes.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Hair and makeup took time. The styling for the shoot was elegant, minimalist, but suggestive. Mingi was first into wardrobe, returning shirtless with his hair slicked back, dress pants hugging his hips, polished shoes tapping softly on the floor.
Y/N stepped out in sheer black thigh highs, an oversized cream blazer with nothing underneath, and hair falling over her shoulder. Her lips were painted a flushed rose, her eyes smoky and dangerous.
They looked like sin and silk and high fashion had a baby.
Yunho adjusted the lighting.
“You good?” Seonghwa asked beside him, chewing on the edge of a straw as he watched the monitor.
“I’m fine.” Yunho muttered. Lying to himself and Seonghwa.
“You’re lying.” Seonghwa muttered back, grinning without looking at him. “They’re messing with you again.”
“I’m aware.”
The shoot began.
Yunho directed with sharp professionalism, calling out instructions with a tone that said, do not play with me today, but his eyes betrayed him every time Y/N looked directly into his lens.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Every pose was deliberate. Every lean into Mingi’s side, every teasing curl of her finger at the edge of her blazer, every flick of her gaze past the camera to Yunho himself.
Mingi was cool as ever, moving with model precision. His expressions, equal parts sultry and confident, were flawless, but every once in a while, he’d glance at Yunho and smirk. Not to provoke. Just because he knew.
Yunho kept it together.
Barely.
Then came the final setup.
“Same lighting,” he muttered, voice a little lower now. “Y/N, lay back on the couch. Mingi, over her, hover like you’re about to kiss her. Close. No touching lips.”
Y/N’s lashes fluttered as she dropped onto the plush velvet sofa, the blazer slipping open just enough to reveal the dip of her collarbone.
Mingi raised a brow but followed Yunho’s instructions, lowering himself over her, bracing his forearms on either side of her head. Their faces were inches apart. Breaths mingling. Charged.
Yunho looked through the viewfinder.
His fingers tightened around the shutter.
Click.
Click.
Click.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to drag her nose along Mingi’s.
And looked straight into Yunho’s eyes.
He pulled back from the camera.
“Good.” He said, too fast. “That’s a wrap on that set.”
Seonghwa blinked. “Already?”
“We got what we needed.”
No one argued, though Seonghwa did smirk like he knew exactly what just happened.
As the team started packing up, Y/N lingered on the couch a moment longer, stretching with a satisfied little sound. Mingi wandered off to change. Seonghwa busied himself at the monitor.
Y/N stood and smoothed down her blazer, walking slowly toward Yunho. Calm. Confident. Dangerous.
“You always get so tense when I’m in front of your camera.” She murmured, voice just low enough for only him to hear.
“I’m always tense when I’m working.” Yunho replied coolly, eyes on his camera screen.
“Mmm,” she hummed, stepping closer, brushing invisible lint from his shoulder. “You sure it’s the work? Because…. your eyes watch me, watch us, like you’d rather be between us than behind the camera.”
Yunho’s throat bobbed with a quiet swallow.
Y/N smiled.
Then walked away like she hadn’t just dropped a grenade.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The studio was slowly emptying, the buzz of production fading into the hum of soft jazz from someone’s bluetooth speaker. Lights dimmed, assistants packed up cables and reflectors, and stylists disappeared behind racks of clothes.
Yunho stood by the monitor, reviewing a few last shots, fingers still wrapped around his camera strap like a lifeline.
Seonghwa approached from the side, iced coffee in hand, looking completely unfazed as usual. “That went well,” he said lightly.
Yunho gave a short nod. “Yeah. They’re naturals.”
Seonghwa hummed. “They’re something.”
He watched the screen for a moment, Mingi hovering over Y/N, lips nearly touching, her eyes locked with the lens like she knew exactly who she was aiming for.
Yunho clicked to the next frame, jaw tight.
Seonghwa took a slow sip from his straw, then said, “Can I offer a little manager to photographer wisdom?”
Yunho glanced over, wary but polite. “Sure.”
“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Seonghwa began, setting his drink down beside the monitor, “but I’ve worked with Mingi and Y/N for years. Been with them through campaigns, rumors, a couple of… interesting personal experiments. Been their best friend longer than that.”
Yunho stayed quiet, but the weight of his stare shifted.
“They’re good people,” Seonghwa continued. “but they don’t do anything by accident. Especially not on set. Especially not with you.”
Yunho’s jaw ticked. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m sure you do,” Seonghwa said calmly. “But just so we’re clear, what they did today? That wasn’t random chemistry. That was targeted heat. And you were the target.”
Yunho exhaled, looked back at the screen, then muttered, “You’re not worried?”
“I’d be worried if you were anyone else,” Seonghwa said. “but…. you’re composed. Serious. Professional.” He paused, then added, “Unless they get under your skin.”
“They’re a lot,” Yunho admitted quietly. “together.”
Seonghwa smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “They’ve had thirds before.”
“Yeah?” Yunho asked, trying to sound detached. “How’d that go?”
Seonghwa shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. Wooyoung, the last one? He didn’t last long.”
Yunho raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“He got overwhelmed. Thought he could keep up, but… they weren’t looking for someone to keep up. They were looking for someone to play with.”
A beat of silence passed between them.
Yunho swallowed.
“I’m not looking to get involved.”
“I believe you,” Seonghwa said. “But I also saw the way Y/N looked at you before she walked out. And I saw the way you looked back.”
Yunho didn’t reply.
Seonghwa pushed away from the table, grabbing his coffee again.
“Just be careful,” he said casually over his shoulder. “They don’t chase people often. But when they do? They usually get what they want.”
And with that, he was gone.
Yunho stayed by the monitor, staring at the paused image of Y/N beneath Mingi, her mouth parted in a secret smile like she knew he was still watching.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The apartment was dark except for the soft flicker of the TV, the scent of takeout wafting through the air. San was curled up on the couch in an oversized hoodie, one leg slung over the back, mindlessly flipping channels.
Yunho stepped inside and let the door close behind him with a quiet click. He didn’t move for a second, just stood there, face tilted up toward the ceiling, breathing like he’d just run a marathon in hell.
San looked over. “Rough day?”
Yunho dropped his camera bag and keys without a word, then walked straight to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and downing half of it before finally speaking.
“They did it again.”
San blinked. “Who?”
“Y/N and Mingi.”
“Ohhh.” San sat up straighter, interest piqued. “This was that Vogue shoot today, right? Weren’t they the ones from that Calvin Klein campaign last week?”
Yunho gave his best friend a long suffering look. “Yes.”
San’s grin spread slow and devious. “Let me guess. More writhing. More half naked posing. More intense eye contact that made you forget your own name?”
Yunho dragged a hand through his hair. “Yes. And worse.”
“Worse how?”
“The first time,” Yunho started, pacing a little, “the Calvin Klein shoot? That was already pushing it. It was all dark lighting, sweaty skin, low moans in the background music. She kept glancing at me like she could see every single thought I was trying not to have.”
San looked absolutely delighted.
“And Mingi didn’t help,” Yunho went on, voice getting more exasperated. “He was calm, chill, like he was used to people drooling over them. But today…. Vogue went more artistic. Silky sheets, skin on skin….”
Yunho groaned, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “And she smirked the entire time like she knew I couldn’t say anything because I was behind the camera.”
“Wow,” San said, tossing him a throw pillow. “you are so screwed.”
Yunho muffled his face into it. “I hate them.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m trying to.”
“Is it just her?” San asked curiously, nudging him with a socked foot. “Or him too?”
Yunho hesitated, which was answer enough.
“Oh my god!” San gaped at him. “You want both. You’re officially in trouble.”
“I don’t want….” Yunho sat up, frustrated. “It’s not about wanting. They’re models. This is their job. They’re good at it. Too good.”
He closed his eyes, sighing. “Their manager, Seonghwa, basically warned me, said they’ve had thirds before.”
San’s eyes sparkled. “Then if you’re not going to be their third, please let them know I’m available. I’ve got nothing on my schedule but leg day and a Tinder date I already regret.”
Yunho threw a pillow at him.
San dodged it easily and flopped back against the cushions with a satisfied sigh. “I’m just saying… if they’re hunting, you’re already half in the trap.”
a/n: *taste by danceracha intensifies* (i know the lyrics are "don't make me bad" but like cmon- it's don't make me beg)
"I'm addicted to you, Momma."
✫彡wordcount: 1.5k
(>ᴗ•)genre:
smut w/o plot
ಠ_ಠwarning/contents:
not edited, oral fixation, zero build up, baby boy mingi cause i just cannot help it, bed humping, overstim, hand holding, very light degradation, big dumb mingi(❤️🩹), light nipple play, pet names(baby,honey, baby boy & momma, love), lots of references to Taste
tags: @cherryxsang @k-drizzle
SMUT UNDER CUT MDNI
"Baby," you cry out, slapping at his arms which keep your writhing hips in place for him. "Mingi, you have to breathe, Honey! Give us a break, good god!"
You feel him mumble something against your sensitive clit, grabbing his hoodies sleeve and tugging on it as he begins laving his flat tongue over it. "Mingi!" You whine, cunt clenching around nothing as he pushes you towards your second orgasm of the night with nothing but his mouth. "Baby, you have to slow down!"
"Don't wanna stop," he can barely speak up as he keeps his lips on you. "Want you to feel my love."
"I feel it, fucks sake!" You laugh, hand raking though his hair and locking eyes with him as he devours your pussy. "I feel it... I feel i-fuck... wow." The look on his face as his eyes flutter shut has you falling in love all over again. He looks so content. So happy with his face stuffed between your thighs. "Baby, I c- I'm gonna cum."
When your words register in his mushy brain, he reaches up one of his hands up from their death grip on your hips and rests it gently between your ribs. You take it up in both of yours, trapping it tightly as he closes his lips around your bud.
He revels on the way you moan for him as he sucks, opening his eyes to watch as he pushes you over the edge. To watch the face he's become addicted to. The one you make when he throws you into an ecstasy only he can give you.
Your brows screwed up, mouth parted by a whimper of his name, chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure spread through your body. It spurs him on- the way he can feel and taste your release on his tongue.
You have to physically pull him away as your body begins to shake in overstimulation, holding him by his dyed hair as he opens his eyes in confusion as to why he's not tasting you anymore. When he sees your trembling legs, the way you hold his fingers so roughly they loose color, it dawns on him.
"Fuck," he sighs, slowly going to lay his head on your quivering thigh, eyes unable to look away from your soaked pussy. "M'sorry, Momma... can't help myself." He whispers as he licks up the essence of you left on his swollen lips. "Can't help it."
"Starting to think we need a safe word for me," you joke as you pet his head, "c'mere, Baby Boy." You sit up slowly and he scoots up to rest beside you against the headboard.
You grab him the bottle of water from the bedside and open it up for him, giving him a chaste kiss to his forehead before handing it over. "Thank you," he gulps it up greedily, before stopping abruptly. "It's gonna wash you away," he pouts.
"Awe," you coo, "you really love my taste, don't you?"
"Yes," he admits, holding his hand over yours which cradles his flushed face. "I'm addicted to you, Momma."
You narrow the gap between you and capture his lips in a kiss, tasting yourself on him briefly before you pull away and rest your forehead on his. Your breaths collide, sharing oxygen as you both breath deeply. "Drink up, Baby." You tap his cheek gently and turn away to grab your bottle. "Gonna need to stay hydrated if you want to keep this up."
"I can keep going?" He asks, clearly excited as he sits up on his knees and is already moving back down the bed.
"Ah, ah, ah!" You snatch up his hoodie string and stop him in his tracks. "I said drink. Let me have a break, Baby, you made me cum twice in like ten minutes. Did you even realize that?"
He shakes his head and crawls into your hold as you open your arms. He doesn't even realize how needy he's become until his clothed cock meets your wet, warm cunt. He whines as your hands trail under his hoodie and shirt, stripping them off together and setting them down next to you. You lean up and kiss his peck, making him shiver.
You lean back and drink up your water, wrapping your legs around his back with a smirk. "Love, I want to keep going," he pleads, grinding down on you lightly to emphasize his eagerness. "Makes me feel so good when I eat you out... makes me so hard."
"Drink your water," you demand nonchalantly, tossing your empty bottle. "Now, or you won't get anything."He takes it from you the next second, all but chugging it before throwing it to join yours.
He grabs at your ankles behind his back and whines helplessly when you lock them around him. "Momma, please, let me..." You chuckle at him, running you hands up his naked chest, pausing at his nipples to circle them. "Please!"
"So greedy, Honey."
"Please, don't make me beg..."
You hum, pretend to think. "I want... I want you to beg." When he does nothing but look down at you dumbly, you emphasize, "beg for my pussy."
He wails out, "Love, please. I need to feel you on my tongue, I need to taste you, I need it! Please, Momma, please, please, ple-" His voice trails off as his eyes follow your hand to open the beside drawer. You pull out a headband and tug him down by his neck. "Wha..."
You unlock your legs form around him and his body moves before his mind tells it to. "Now that I can see that pretty face, get to work."
He does. He dives in sloppily, licking and kissing your cunt and worshiping you like you are a Goddess. "Thank you, Momma." He leaves a fat kiss to your clit. "Thank you." He licks up with a pointed tongue. "Love it so much." He swirls it around your hole. "Love you so much." His hips grind down on the bed. "Fucking love you." He goes on and on, praising you and your pussy as he eats it up like a man starved, slowly rambling into nonsense.
"Baby," he looks up at the sound of your voice, finding that you have your hands reaches out towards his. He slides them up from your thighs and grabs onto them as he suckles at you. You hold them at either side of your hips, smiling as he squeezes rhythmically. "You're going all dumb, Baby Boy. We can't have that, right?" He shakes his head against you, making you both laugh and moan. "Just look at me, Baby."
He keeps his eyes focused on yours- trying his best to pick up on every little twitch and moan and bite of your lip to keep himself from going crazy. He grinds his hips down on the bed whenever you let out a particularly sweet moan, almost like he's rewarding himself for making you feel good.
When you start to moan out more and more praises to him, he can't help how his eyes shut tightly as his gut tightens, moaning against you: like he's experiencing as much pleasure as you are.
"Mingi, stop," you order. His tongue stills inside you, looking up with doe eyes. "That's enough."
He pulls away with a whine, slowly releasing your hands and crawling up with a pout. "Don't worry, Sweet Boy. There's always more time for that. Right now," you reach between you as he cages you under him. "You're humping the bed like a little whore. You must really love making me feel good, huh? Must love making me cum. So selfless, baby." You slowly rub over his hard bulge, bringing him closer with a leg over his hip. "Let Momma make you feel good? Let me give you a reward?"
He lays down wordless and watches with glazed eyes as you straddle him. You cup his face, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest before you pause at his nipple and leave a kitten lick, laughing at how his hips roll up into you. "So worked up, Honey."
He didn't even notice until you'd taken over, but he's incredibly horny. He was so focused on you, making you feel like a Goddess. He didn't even realize his cock was painfully hard. He was just focused on making you feel like he does when you love on him. He didn't realize how much he loved eating you out. He can't get enough. He wants more. More, and more, until he can't breath. Until he can't remember the taste of anything besides you. That would be his ultimate rewards. "Love... I know what my reward can be."
"What's that, Baby?"
"Sit on my face."
"Jesus, Mingi!"
⋆˙✴︎Crys˚.⋆ @kissmemrbadboy - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
izzy806
discoholicmusic
2087
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
titsay
