Heeeeyoooo babes 🤭🤍 I've been writing on and off these past few days, preparing for Kinktober of course and other mini small events I wanna do. September is just around the corner and I have one fic I'll post until September comes and at least 2 prepared for September 😋 Love you pookies
💌 A Year of Chaos, Fics, and Questionable Life Choices
helloooo my beloved internet besties 💅
today’s a special day...month? anyway, august marks ONE WHOLE YEAR since i started this blog consistently . yes. 365 days of brainrot, thirst, crying over fictional men & idols, and putting my academic responsibilities on the back burner for the sake of art. and by art i mean filth and fluff.
fun fact: my first ever fic, you took san home, was posted on july 16th while i was literally on vacation in greece 💅 i remember writing and posting it like “hehe fun lil thing” and now here we are… 743 followers, 69 fics (…yes. the funny number. i am a child.), and an entire community encouraging me to make everything just a little spicier.
and THEN on august 15th i dropped crave me and apparently that was the start of my villain arc because it took off and i was like “oh this is fun” and never looked back 💀
✨ ACHIEVEMENTS UNLOCKED THIS YEAR:
🥇 Size matters, right? — yungi (1474 notes)
🥈 Crave me — yunho (1075 notes)
🥉 Daddy’s Summer Fling — yunho (969 notes)
4. Behind Closed Doors — wooyoung (541 notes)
5. Taught to Behave — sanhwa (490 notes)
6. See Yourself Through My Eyes — san (490 notes)
7. NYE Yungi Special (485 notes)
8. Skyline Sins — mingi (463 notes)
9. Quiet Hours — yunho (418 notes)
10. Laced in Couture — san (417 notes)
these numbers still feel illegal to me like. WHO let you people read my stuff that many times?? and then REBLOG IT??
this past year has been… a rollercoaster 🎢 family drama, school chaos, the occasional emotional breakdown, BUT every time i came back after going mostly inactive, you guys were just… there?? happy to see me post like a bunch of little cheerleaders in the notes
important note: this is NOT a goodbye letter lmao. you think you’re getting rid of me? absolutely not. i’m still here, still writing, still clowning, and still fully prepared to unleash more fics that will have you feral in the tags.
i’m honestly hoping that by the time i finish high school in june, i’ll hit 1k followers so i can dramatically say “this was my graduation gift from y'all” manifesting ✨
so yeah, thank you to EVERYONE. my mutuals, my anons, my readers, my “likes but never reblogs” crew (i see you 👀), my “screams in the comments and reblogs” people, and the silent lurkers who never comment but still love my fics. i love you all equally (except the bots. respectfully, you can go).
here’s to year two of thirst, chaos, and hopefully less procrastination. love you, besties ✨
“You were made for this,” he said. “Made to be on your knees, gagging on cock.”
pairing: fem reader x ot8
genre: 18+, smut
summary: you’re mingi’s special gift, shared and adored by eight men who worship you fiercely. they push you to your limits, taking turns to claim and cherish you all night long.
wc: 6.2k
warnings: multi partener scenes, 3some, kinda gangbang, she's passed on from one another, oral sex (both f/m receiving), spanking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, choking, biting, deepthroating, gagging, use of restraints, cuffs, she is their fucktoy, kinda a lot of degradation (whore, slut, cumrag, cumdump, toy, used, fucktoy), some praise kink w degradation (good girl, mine, so good at taking us, dirty little slut), breeding kink, creampies, multiple orgasms (both f/m), cumplay, manhandling, lots of voyeurismic vibes cause all of the other members are watching while one of them has his way with her, she's a gift for mingi tonight and in my fic and vision he loves being seen by others while destroying someone idk, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), COMPLETELY consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.
author's note: ASSSSS i said above i feel like mingi would love being watched just as much as he'd love exhibitionism. i said what i said i liked writing this, more to come ! 😝
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.
The Adriatic Sea stretched endlessly around you sunlit and sapphire blue, its soft waves licking against the hull of the yacht like it worshipped the vessel. The air smelled like salt, citrus, and danger.
The yacht, named Velvet Vow, because of course Yunho and Mingi would name it something that sensual was nothing short of outrageous. A floating palace. Three sprawling decks, all polished teak and chrome, champagne stocked in every ice bucket, satin sunbeds scattered with linen pillows, and a private below-deck spa larger than your apartment in Seoul. The lounge alone was wrapped in tinted glass windows and dark mahogany velvet drapes drawn, silver accents everywhere, and custom leather seating that had hosted more than one after-hours sin.
You were barefoot on the upper deck, wind tugging at your sheer white robe, watching the sun melt into the Adriatic horizon. The sea shimmered like spilled gold. Everything was warm, lazy, slow. But you weren’t relaxed.
No. You were wound tight.
It was Mingi’s birthday, and you knew exactly what was coming.
From the moment you stepped aboard that morning, their eyes were all over you. Every man on this yacht, the eight that you managed, posed beside in editorials, flew with on red carpets had already fucked you in every way imaginable. You were their release, their secret, their reward. Their model and their manager. Their shared plaything.
But tonight… you were Mingi’s. And Mingi liked everything a little rougher. A little filthier. A little more. You knew he’d expect something special, and the rest of them? Oh, they were more than eager to deliver.
You could feel it when San passed behind you earlier, his hand trailing up the inside of your thigh beneath your robe, a whisper of touch, not even enough to react to. “You’ll behave tonight, won’t you?” he murmured.
You turned your head, meeting his gaze over your sunglasses. “I’ll be a gift.”
He smirked. “You always are.”
-
Now the sun was down and things had shifted. Heat still clung to your skin from the last of the day’s rays, but the atmosphere on the Velvet Vow was crackling.
The music had changed, slower, deeper basslines that vibrated through your chest. The boys were gathered below deck in the main lounge. Mood lighting had replaced sunlight, and shadows danced over their sharp features as they lounged shirtless, drinks in hand, and eyes always on you.
You stood at the edge of the room, robe still hanging off one shoulder, lingerie underneath barely visible. Your heels clicked softly against the marble floor.
“Y/N,” Yeosang said, nodding toward the hallway, “can you come with us?”
You followed. You always did. Not because you had to. But because you wanted to. Down a side corridor, through a dim-lit door, you found yourself in a room you hadn’t seen before. It was smaller, more intimate. A huge velvet chair sat in the center, ropes already looped into the arms. There were mirrored panels along one wall and a cabinet of neatly organized toys, soft restraints, leather cuffs, blindfolds, and sleek, buzzing things that made your thighs clench just looking at them.
“Surprised?” Seonghwa asked, voice soft. “We wanted something… private. For the start.”
You turned slowly, pulse ticking up. “For the start?”
He stepped closer. “You know what today is.”
“Mingi’s birthday,” you said, breath shallow.
“And what he wants most?” Yunho stepped in, eyes darkening. “Is you.”
“He’s always wanted me.”
“And tonight,” San added, reaching for the soft leather cuffs, “you’re completely his.”
You stared at him as he approached, tilting your head slightly, teasing. “What about you?”
“We’ll warm you up.” Jongho’s voice, so deceptively calm, came from your left. “Then we’ll watch.”
You wet your lips. “You’ll just watch?”
“For now,” he smirked. “Until he gives us permission.” The blindfold came next, thick black silk tied around your eyes by Wooyoung, his fingers brushing your cheek as he secured it. “Gorgeous even like this,” he whispered.
Your robe was slipped off your shoulders, slow and reverent, hands brushing your skin, warm breath at your neck. Someone unclasped your bra and the lace fell away, nipples stiffening instantly in the cool air. Then the cuffs tight but comfortable were locked around your wrists, arms drawn gently forward as you were guided back to the lounge. You heard the shift in the room before you felt it. The music faded. Conversation stilled. Then… laughter. Low. Male. Mingi.
“Oh… fuck me,” he groaned. “You really brought her in like this?”
“She’s yours,” Seonghwa said.
“She’s also.. wet already,” San added, a tease.
You shivered, standing blindfolded, cuffed, in black heels and matching panties in front of eight men who had seen and done everything to you. And still, you wanted more. You heard Mingi’s footsteps, slow and heavy, circling you. He didn’t speak. But his presence was molten.
“Sit her down,” he finally said. “I wanna watch.”
They guided you to the velvet seat in the center of the lounge, arms resting on either side, ankles gently parted. Your head tilted up slightly, your breathing shallow. You couldn’t see anything but you felt everything.
Then it began. Soft lips against your collarbone. Hands sliding slowly up your thighs. A tongue flicking over your nipple as you gasped, back arching while another pair of hands adjusted your panties, fingers dipping beneath the fabric just enough to make you tremble.
“She’s so soaked,” someone said.
“Of course she is,” Yunho murmured. “She lives for this.”
You whimpered, writhing as a vibrator small and precise pressed lightly to your clit through the lace. It wasn’t enough. But it was too much. And you knew it was either Yunho or Wooyoung playing with you.
“Don’t squirm” Wooyoung warned, breath hot against your stomach. “He hasn’t even touched you yet.”
Your fingers flexed in the cuffs. You wanted to beg, but you loved this too much to rush it. The toy circled slowly, maddening. Someone sucked your nipple hard enough to leave a mark. A finger traced your lips and you parted them instinctively, tongue brushing against it, moaning when it pulled away.
Seonghwa sweetly whispered in your ear, “He’s hard just watching you fall apart.”
You smiled blindly. “Then let him break me.”
That earned a groan. The toy was pressed harder, your panties damp and clinging to your folds now. Mingi silently signaled to someone to kneel in front of you. Two hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider. Someone knelt between your legs, warm breath ghosting your inner thighs and then a tongue flicked out. You moaned loud, spine curving forward.
“Taste her,” Mingi ordered.
They did. One was sucking your clit through your panties, another pulling them aside to slide fingers inside you, curling perfectly. A hand gripped your throat lightly, possessive. You loved that. Mingi hadn’t touched you yet. But you could feel his presence. Dominating the room. Watching you be played with. Used. Worshipped.
“Look at her,” Yeosang said. “She’s trembling.”
“She’s holding back,” San added.
“Barely,” Wooyoung grinned.
Then came the silence again. Tension thicker than the summer heat. And Mingi’s voice.
“Take it off.”
The blindfold slid away. He stood directly in front of you, shirt gone, chest heaving. Veins in his arms flexing as he unbuckled his belt with slow, deliberate precision.
You barely had time to breathe before he stepped closer, towering over you, cock already hard and heavy against his abs.
“On your knees,” he growled. “Time to show them who you really belong to.”
And you obeyed trembling, needy, and ready to be used. The air was hot with tension, thick with lust. The kind that made your lungs burn and your skin feel electric.
Your knees met the carpet without hesitation, that soft velvet under you no longer just luxury, but your place. You belonged there, on the floor, with every gaze locked onto you, every breath in the room quickening. Cuffs hung loose at your wrists now, teasing freedom, but you had no intention of using it.
Not when he was looking down at you like that. Mingi’s cock was hard in his hand, thick and glistening. Your eyes flicked to it instantly, mouth falling open without conscious thought. Your whole body responded, clenching, aching, trembling, just from the sight.
He ran his thumb over the head, catching the precum and letting it glisten before smearing it across the base. He knew you were watching. He wanted you to. You didn’t even blink.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “So fucking obedient.”
You bit your lip, barely resisting the urge to crawl closer.
“She’s already drooling,” Wooyoung noted from behind.
“Good girls wait to be told,” Mingi said, eyes never leaving yours. “Isn’t that right?”
You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes.”
His voice dropped to something molten. “Say it.”
“I’m a good girl,” you breathed. “and I wait for your cock.”
A growl tore from his throat. “Open your mouth.”
You did, slowly, with purpose, letting your tongue roll out between your lips, your jaw dropping wide.
“Goddamn,” Yeosang muttered under his breath.
Mingi moved forward. Just enough for his tip to brush your tongue. “Keep those eyes on me,” he ordered, one hand sinking into your hair. “I want to see them while I fuck that throat.”
The first push was slow. A tease. His head slid past your lips, stretching you open, dragging over your tongue with heat and weight. You moaned low around him, eyes fluttering just once before you forced them back open. That earned a sharp tug to your hair. Not cruel. A warning.
“Eyes,” he growled. “On me.”
You looked up, wet and wide-eyed, your lips stretching further as he pressed deeper. You gagged just slightly, a flutter of resistance, but you didn’t stop. You never stopped.
“Fuck, look at her,” Yunho said. “Taking it so well.”
Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked gently, worshipful. Mingi hissed between his teeth, his hips rocking forward just enough to make your throat flex.
“You like being watched?” he murmured, voice heavy with filth. “Like having them see you like this? Face fucked. Ruined?”
You moaned your answer around his length, unable to speak, but begging with your eyes. He pulled back, just enough to let you breathe.
“You were made for this,” he said. “Made to be on your knees, gagging on cock.”
You didn’t get a chance to respond. He thrust. Deep. The head slammed against the back of your throat, and you choked instantly, eyes watering, nose pressing into the sharp muscle of his lower stomach. He held you there. Just long enough to make your fingers twitch. Then he pulled back and did it again, harder this time. Spit spilled from your lips, gliding down your chin. Your jaw burned, throat clenching instinctively. But you took it. You always took it.
“Fucking filthy,” he snarled, beginning to thrust now, slow, hard strokes, hips snapping forward like he was claiming you with every pump. “You love this shit. Love choking, don’t you?” Your nails dug into your thighs, tears running freely now.
“Such a good little whore,” Mingi continued. “Gagging on my cock while they watch.”
You let out a broken moan, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful like this,” Seonghwa said. “A mess for him.”
You heard movement behind you, a zipper, a stifled groan. One of them was stroking himself. Maybe more than one. You didn’t care. You were too far gone. Mingi’s grip tightened in your hair. He was fucking your mouth now, no hesitation, no slow build. Just raw, possessive thrusts that had your throat swallowing him over and over again.
“You’re nothing but a cumrag right now,” he growled.
You nodded as best you could, eyes rolling slightly.
“Beg for it.”
He pulled out, leaving your mouth empty, lips puffy, drool dripping down your chest.
You gasped, coughing softly. “Please,” you whimpered. “Please fuck my mouth, Mingi. I need it. I need to choke on it…”
“You need to be used.”
“Y-yes..!”
“Then open wider.”
You obeyed. This time, when he thrust, he didn’t stop. Just buried himself to the base, again and again, your jaw stretching, throat raw, spit and precum coating your tongue. He fucked your mouth like it was the only place he belonged.
“Fuck, gonna fill that throat..” he grunted. “Wanna see you swallow it all.”
You moaned helplessly around him. Your whole body was shaking, thighs clenched, cunt throbbing. You weren’t even being touched down there, and you were close to coming just from this.
“Cumslut,” Mingi growled, breath hitching. “Look at you. Tears down your face, tongue stretched out and still begging.”
He slammed forward, groaning.
“I’m close. You ready, baby?”
You whimpered your answer. Then came the final thrust, brutal, deep, and a guttural groan from Mingi as he came. Hot, thick, all over your tongue. You swallowed around him instinctively, your throat milking him as he twitched in your mouth.
“Show me,” he gasped, pulling out.
You opened your mouth. Sticky trails across your tongue. A drop slid off your lip.
“Swallow it.”
You did. Throat working, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.”
Applause broke out behind you. Mocking. Aroused. Groaning. It was his birthday party, after all. You turned your head slowly and saw Yeosang and Wooyoung stroking themselves, Jongho panting, San sitting with his hand inside his boxers, eyes burning.
“You’re fucking incredible,” Seonghwa said.
And Mingi? He leaned down, cupped your jaw with one strong hand.
“You’re not done.”
You barely managed a nod.
“Get on the couch,” he ordered, voice low and rough. “Arms up. Legs spread.”
He ran a hand down your cheek and licked a drop of his cum off your chin.
“Time to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
-
The room was too hot. Or maybe it was just your body, flushed and overwhelmed, muscles twitching as you crawled back toward the massive velvet couch like you’d been summoned. Because you had been.
Your throat was raw from the mouthfucking, lips swollen, chin soaked in drool. Mingi hadn’t touched your pussy once, and you were already on the verge of begging to come.
But he wasn’t in a hurry. He watched you as you climbed onto the couch, arms stretched along the back, legs open and knees bent just the way he liked. You were fully on display now. Lace panties soaked. Breasts flushed and marked. Body trembling with want.
You didn’t even try to hide it and that was what he loved.
“Stay like that,” he commanded, voice deep and low as thunder. “Don’t move a fucking inch.”
You didn’t. The boys made room around you, their eyes glued to your body. Some sat. Some stood. San was openly stroking himself now, his cock hard and twitching. Wooyoung looked glassy-eyed. Yunho was palming himself, slow and steady. Seonghwa’s lip was between his teeth.
You were their entertainment. But tonight, you were Mingi’s show.
He stepped closer, and your breath caught. Still shirtless, still flushed, abs flexing with every step. Then he dropped his pants fully, cock already stiff again, slick from your throat, and climbed onto the couch between your legs.
His hands gripped your thighs and yanked you down hard. You gasped.
“Mine,” he said.
Then he slapped your pussy through your panties. You jerked, moaning loud.
“Say it.”
“Yours,” you choked. “All yours.”
He slapped you again. Just once. Then pulled your panties to the side and buried two fingers inside you like he was testing the way you pulsed around them.
“Fucking soaked,” he murmured. “I didn’t even touch this pussy and it’s dripping. You really love getting used, don’t you?”
“Yes.. please, Mingi..”
He slid his fingers out and slapped your pussy again, bare this time. The sound echoed. The sting lit you up. You cried out, thighs trembling.
“I’m not here to listen to you beg. I own you tonight.”
He shoved his fingers back in, hard, fast, curling them perfectly against your spot, dragging another loud moan from your throat. Your hips bucked up.
Wrong move. He slapped your thigh.
“Did I say you could move?”
“N-no.. I’m sorry!”
“You will be.”
He climbed over you, large, solid, his hand wrapped around your throat now, holding you in place while he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your breath caught.
“Look at them,” he ordered.
You tilted your head, barely able to move with his hand on your throat. They were watching. All of them. Staring at your spread body and Mingi’s thick cock rubbing against your folds, teasing the entrance again and again.
Mingi smiled, a wicked, dominant grin.
“Let them watch what happens when I ruin you.”
Then he shoved inside. You screamed.
Your back arched violently, the stretch was overwhelming, brutal, perfect. He bottomed out instantly, not giving you time to adjust. Your nails scratched into the couch, breath hitching as he held you there, deep and throbbing.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned. “So tight. Like you haven’t been fucked in weeks.”
“I haven’t,” you gasped, clenching around him. “Not like this..”
He leaned down, his lips at your ear. “That’s right. You wait for me.”
Then he pulled back and fucked into you hard. The couch creaked beneath you. Your thighs flew up, wrapping around his waist on instinct, but he shoved them apart again, pinning your legs wide.
“You don’t get to hide from me,” he growled. “Not this pussy. Not these tits. Not that fucking face when you break.”
He slammed into you again, and again, and again.
The room filled with sounds, skin on skin, wet heat, filthy moans. You were crying out with every thrust now, incoherent. And he never stopped talking.
“This pussy’s mine.”
“Say it.”
“Yours! It’s yours, Mingi..”
“Fucking right it is.”
He grabbed your wrists, pinned them above your head, and pounded into you harder. Your whole body rocked with every brutal thrust. You were sure the others could see your tits bouncing, the way your belly tensed, the way your pussy clenched his cock like it needed him.
“Take it,” he growled. “Take all of it. Fucking dumb on my cock.”
You nodded, eyes rolling.
“Tell me what you are.”
“Your toy..!”
“Fucking perfect.”
He leaned down, kissed you, hard and rough, all teeth and tongue, while he continued to rail you into the velvet, your legs shaking, breath catching. Then his hand moved back to your throat.
“Don’t come.”
You whimpered.
“Mingi! Please…”
“No. Not until I say.”
You nodded frantically, holding back, tears in your eyes. You were so close. So fucking close. Every thrust had your vision shattering, your core clenching down so hard it was nearly painful.nHe sat back on his knees.
“Look at her,” he said to the others, voice thick and breathless. “Look at this fucked out little toy. All for me.”
“Fuck,” Wooyoung muttered.
San stroked himself faster now. Jongho was groaning. Yeosang had his cock out and was leaning forward, hungry, desperate.
“You want it so bad, don’t you?” Mingi said, grabbing your hips and slamming into you. “You want me to fill this pussy? Let them see me claim it?”
“Yes! Please… fill me, Mingi.. please!”
“Beg me to come inside.”
“Please, Mingi! Come in me! I wanna feel you fill me…!
That broke him. He growled, low, rough, and fucked you even harder. His fingers dug into your skin. You screamed his name. The others moaned around you, all of them stroking, touching, watching as your body arched and convulsed beneath him.
Then, with a final brutal thrust, he came. Spilling inside you with a groan that felt like thunder. Your pussy clenched around the heat, milking it, greedy for every drop.
“Now,” he gasped, still inside you, voice trembling as he still fucked you through it.
“Come for me.”
And you did.
Your body snapped, head thrown back, walls spasming around his cock, legs shaking violently. The orgasm tore through you like fire, raw, shaking, endless. You screamed his name again. The room roared around you. And Mingi?
He stayed there. Deep inside. Throbbing. Pumping you full. Until you were nothing but a trembling, soaked mess, hair splayed, body twitching, cum already leaking from between your thighs.
“Fuck,” he said again, breathless.
Then he looked up. And smirked at the others.
“Now you can have her.”
-
Now.. the couch was soaked. Your body was ruined. And you weren’t even close to finished.
Mingi had emptied you, claimed you, left your cunt filled and twitching, and now he was leaning back, breathing hard, sweat glistening across his chest as he waved a hand lazily toward the others.
“She’s yours.”
San didn’t wait. He stood immediately, cock hard and already slick from his own precum. He walked toward you with a look that could break lesser women, jaw set, eyes gleaming, muscles tense.
You barely managed to lift yourself on trembling arms when he grabbed your hips, yanked you off the couch, and dragged you across the room like you weighed nothing..He dropped onto the long leather sofa that was on the opposite side of the room and pulled you face-down across his lap.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered.
You did. He cuffed them again. You moaned at the click of leather.
“This is how I like you,” he growled, gripping the back of your neck and pushing your face into the sofa. “Helpless. Leaking. Desperate.”
He spread your legs wide with his knees and slid two fingers along your folds. Mingi’s cum was already dripping out of you, slicking his fingers.
“Fucking filthy,” he muttered. “You love being passed around, huh?”
“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes.. please, San,”
“Oh, you’ll get it.”
He grabbed your hips, lined himself up, and slammed inside you in one sharp thrust. You screamed.. again.
His cock felt different. Angled slightly up. He didn’t give you a second to adjust. His thrusts were brutal from the start, a punishing rhythm, fast and deep, your body bouncing with every stroke.
“Take it,” he snarled. “Take every inch, whore.”
He slapped your ass, hard. Again. Then again. Red handprints bloomed across your skin. You cried out, drool slipping from your lips, your hands clenched in the cuffs behind you.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. “Even after Mingi… still squeezing like you belong to me.”
Your body was fire now. Every nerve buzzing. Every movement made your clit throb.
“I wanna come..” you whimpered.
“Not yet,” he hissed, pulling your hair to arch your back. “I’m not done with you.”
He fucked you until your thighs gave out, then flipped you over mid-thrust and mounted you again in his lap, this time looking right into your eyes.
“Look at them,” he said.
The rest of ATEEZ stood in a loose semicircle, dicks out, stroking themselves slowly.
“They’re waiting,” he said. “They’re gonna use you next.”
You clenched down hard.
“Fucking needy little slut,” he growled, slamming in deep.
Then his rhythm stuttered as he thrust upward in you multiple times and his breath broke, he cursed as he came, spurting inside you in hot, heavy bursts.
He pulled out slow, watching his cum leak down your thighs. And passed you to the next.
-
Yeosang didn’t say a word at first.
He approached silently, eyes locked on yours, slow, calm, precise. But there was fire in him. You could feel it burning beneath the surface.
He knelt in front of you, lifted your jaw, and studied your face.
“You look like art,” he murmured. “Ruined. Glorious.”
You whimpered, trying to crawl into his lap, but he stopped you.
“No. Hands behind your back.”
Still cuffed.
He moved behind you, sat back on his heels, and pulled your body flush into his chest, your back to him, legs spread wide over his thighs.
You were open like a gift. Bare. Wet. Glistening.
Then you felt it.
His cock, thick, velvety, sliding between your folds, teasing you.
“Say please.”
“Please, Yeosang, please… !”
“Good.”
He eased in slowly.
The stretch made your spine arch. Your whole body shook. He held your hips steady, breath soft against your ear.
And then he thrust. Deep. Sharp. Precise.
He didn’t pound like San. He pierced you. Every stroke deliberate. Every movement angled to hit the perfect spot inside you.
You gasped, head rolling back against his shoulder.
“You love this,” he whispered, his voice soft but dangerous. “Being opened like this. Marked. Used. Watched.”
You nodded helplessly.
He kept going. Slow at first, then building, the squelch of your soaked pussy getting louder.
“You're mine right now,” he said, voice tighter. “Only mine.”
He reached up with one hand, cupped your throat, and pulled your head back to kiss you hard as he fucked up into you, strokes growing more frantic, more desperate. He fucked into you helplessly, soft whines escaping his chest as he was getting closer and closer.
He came with a long, guttural moan, spilling inside you and holding you tight, cock still twitching.
Then he laid you down gently and backed away.
-
Your body was already numb, tingling, dripping, floating somewhere between pain and pleasure, when a hand touched your cheek.
Gentle. Cool. Then a kiss. Right at the corner of your mouth.
“Y/N,” came a voice like silk dipped in sin. It was Seonghwa.
He crouched in front of you, looking like something painted in gold, flushed skin, perfect jawline gleaming with sweat, cock hard and leaking against his stomach.
You blinked slowly.
“I thought… I thought I’d passed out,” you whispered.
His lips curled up. “You almost did.”
He ran a knuckle down your throat, slow.
“You look so fucking good ruined,” he said, voice barely above a breath. “All of us dripping out of you. Eyes dazed. Whimpering.”
He leaned down and kissed you deep, hot, slow, while his fingers found your pussy and slid through the mess.
“God, you’re flooded,” he groaned. “You’re going to feel us for days.”
You tried to move, tried to speak, but then he was laying you back, shifting your legs open, and sinking into you with a slow, deliberate push.
You screamed, again, legs kicking weakly.
“Too much?” he asked, even as he bottomed out.
You nodded. He just smiled.
“Good. You deserve too much.”
Seonghwa didn’t start with a brutal rhythm.
He started smooth.
Rolling his hips in deep, hypnotic waves, like he had all night and nothing else to do but make you come.
His hand reached up, traced your lips, then tapped them.
“Open.”
You obeyed.
He slid two fingers into your mouth.
“Suck.”
You moaned and obeyed, wrapping your tongue around them, hollowing your cheeks.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I could keep you like this forever. Pretty little hole, cock-drunk and perfect.”
His pace didn’t speed up, it deepened. You could feel every stroke like it was being engraved into your bones.
You didn’t even realize you were coming again until moans tore from your throat, your pussy clenching hard enough to milk him.
He cursed and snapped his hips harder now, finally chasing his own high, fingers still in your mouth.
“Gonna fill you again,” he panted. “Right on top of the others. Want you dripping all the way down your thighs.”
You couldn’t respond, you just arched your back and took it. Seonghwa came with a strangled groan, cock pulsing deep inside, warm and heavy.
He pulled out slowly and kissed your stomach, chest, lips.
“You’re our masterpiece,” he whispered.
-
And then…
The couch dipped again.
Someone slid behind you. You didn’t even have to look. Hongjoong.
He wrapped an arm around your chest, pulling your body into his lap.
“Still with us?” he whispered.
You nodded weakly.
“Good,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “Because I haven’t even started.”
Then he bit your shoulder.
Hard.
You cried out, but it sent a spike of pleasure straight through your core.
“I’ve watched you take every one of us,” he whispered in your ear. “Watched you beg, choke, scream, shake.”
He grabbed your throat with one hand and dragged his cock through your soaked folds with the other.
“You’re not just a cumdump tonight,” he said. “You’re my fucking favorite toy.”
And with that, he slammed into you from behind.
You jerked in his arms.
“Hongjoong!”
“Shut the hell up and come again,” he growled, his thrusts sharp and fast. “I know you’ve got more left in you.”
You didn’t. But your body didn’t care.
He fucked you like he was trying to imprint his name inside you, hand gripping your throat, the other kneading your tits, his teeth dragging across your skin.
“Let them watch,” he hissed. “Let them hear you moan for me.”
The others were already whining again, some still stroking, some just watching, open-mouthed.
You were undone.
And Hongjoong was relentless.
He made you scream his name as your orgasm crashed down again, your body convulsing violently in his lap, and only then did he let out a broken groan and spill inside you, grinding his hips to make sure every drop stayed deep.
He held you there.
Wrapped in his arms, pulsing around him, twitching in overstimulation and bliss.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispered, forehead pressed to your shoulder.
Then he kissed your spine.
-
Wooyoung was already palming your jaw before Hongjoong even stood up.
“You look so fucking good like this,” he said, grinning. “I think I’m gonna fuck that smart little mouth.”
You barely had time to react before he knelt on the couch and pulled you up between his thighs, pushing your head forward.
“Open.”
You obeyed, and his cock slid across your tongue instantly.
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Let me see how deep you can take it.”
He didn’t wait long.
His hips rolled forward and he pushed in, past your lips, past your tongue, until you choked softly.
“Fuck yes,” he moaned. “I love that sound.”
His hands held your head in place as he began to fuck your mouth, filthy, wet thrusts, your nose bumping his pelvis, tears spilling from your eyes.
“Such a good little cocksleeve,” he growled. “Letting all of us use you like this. Letting me come in that perfect throat.”
You gurgled, barely able to moan. He fucked into your throat, feeling your mouth and tongue feel his cock up and down. He thrusted as deep as possible and stood like that for a long moment, his hand hovering over your throat from the outside.
“Fuck me… I can feel myself in your throat.” Wooyoung said and signaled Mingi to come and feel it.
“Holy… this feels unreal.” Mingi's cock twitched in his hand as his other hand was feeling your throat up and down.
You couldn’t take it anymore and swallowed around Wooyoung's tip, putting insane pressure on it.
He groaned, shuddered, and came suddenly, holding you there, deep, while he emptied himself.
You swallowed like it was instinct.
He pulled out slowly, thumb brushing the spit and cum from your lips.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re unreal.”
-
As soon as Wooyoung was also done with you and stood up, Jongho closed the distance between you and him.
Jongho didn’t speak much.
He just grabbed you. Picked you up.
Pressed you flat against the mirrored wall.
And fucked you standing up.
You couldn’t even cry out, the angle had your pussy clenching, stretched wide again as his cock filled you to the hilt.
His grip was bruising. His thrusts were relentless.
You were melting in his arms.
“Good?” he grunted, finally.
You nodded frantically. “Yes! Fuck… yes!”
“Take it.”
He fucked into you insanely fast and powerful, one of his hands holding you by your throat and the other one had you trembling under him as he circled your clit.
Your cunt clenched around him repeatedly and he came with a loud groan, holding you still while his cum mixed with the others inside you.
Then he kissed your temple.
“You did good, baby.”
-
Yunho was the last before Mingi returned.
He laid you down carefully.
Spread your legs wide.
And slid two fingers inside you, slow, reverent.
“You’re so fucking full,” he whispered.
Then he bent down and licked.
Your whole body convulsed.
He lapped at your pussy, devoured you like a feast, cum and slick and everything in between, until you were screaming, coming for the fifth time, begging him to stop.
He didn’t.
He kept going.
And then, only then, he climbed over you, lined up, and sank into your quivering cunt.
“I’m going to fill you again,” he whispered. “Because you absolutely deserve to be filled like a whore.”
You moaned, weak and limp, as he fucked you smooth, deep strokes holding eye contact the whole time.
He came with a groan, buried deep and then collapsed next to you.
-
You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.
You were soaked in cum, sweat, kisses, marks.
And then Mingi returned. Kneeling beside you. Smiling. You were trembling.
“Need a minute?” he asked, brushing your hair back.
You nodded faintly.
He kissed your cheek. Then scooped you up and carried you to the private cabin like you weighed nothing.
Eight men followed. To clean you. To hold you. To worship you. Because tonight…
You weren’t just their toy.
You were their heaven.
You didn’t even know when the world stopped spinning.
Maybe it was somewhere between Hongjoong’s bite and Jongho’s arms lifting you again. Or maybe it was the moment Mingi wrapped that towel around your body and pressed his lips to your forehead like you were something fragile.
The cabin below deck was glowing with dim lights. One of the boys had turned on soft music, jazzy, slow, and warm like honey.
You were in the center of the massive bed, tucked in a clean robe that smelled like sandalwood and their cologne, your hair still damp from the quick rinse they’d helped you through. Your skin glowed, marked with bruises, hickeys, fingerprints. But none of it hurt.
It all just… pulsed.
You blinked, barely able to hold your head up, when a warm palm cupped your cheek.
Mingi.
Clean now. Hair still damp. Shirtless, but wearing sweats that hung low on his hips. His lips were parted like he’d just exhaled for the first time in hours.
He looked at you like you were the most sacred thing on the yacht.
“You okay, baby?”
You nodded slowly, your voice hoarse. “Sore. But… really, really good.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “Yeah? You did so fucking well.”
He leaned in, brushed his lips across your forehead.
Then lower. Your cheek. Your collarbone. Your chest.
His hands moved with reverence, not lust, smoothing over your arms, checking the red cuffs marks, rubbing gently over your thighs.
“I’ve never seen anything like you,” he whispered. “I swear I’ll remember tonight for the rest of my fucking life.”
You smiled faintly, eyes fluttering shut as he curled beside you on the bed and pulled you to his chest.
The room was quiet. Warm. The other boys had dispersed, some showering, some resting, some still pacing from the high.
And yet, when Mingi held you…
You finally melted.
His fingers rubbed your scalp. His other hand stayed at your waist, drawing lazy shapes against your robe.
“You want anything?” he murmured. “Water? Ice pack? More cuddles?”
“Just you,” you mumbled.
“You got it.”
Maybe twenty minutes passed, maybe more.
Eventually, you felt stronger. The soreness faded into a warm ache. You stretched slightly in his arms.
“Mm. Jacuzzi?”
Mingi grinned against your hair. “You read my mind.”
The top deck of the yacht was quiet, the Adriatic night sky above, full of stars, the sea calm and silver around you.
The hot tub steamed in the moonlight, a soft glow illuminating the bubbling water. The deck was still scattered with empty glasses and half-shed towels, but everything felt serene now, like the chaos had transformed into something sacred.
Mingi helped you in first, both of you naked now, skin against skin, water up to your collarbones.
“Better?” he asked, settling behind you.
You leaned back into his chest, his legs on either side of yours.
“Perfect.”
The heat soaked into your muscles. Every bruise eased. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder and you sighed.
“You really didn’t expect all that, huh?” you teased, voice rough.
Mingi chuckled. “I expected something. I didn’t expect to fall in love with it.”
You blinked slowly.
“Fall in love?”
“With the way you looked when I told them to start. With how fucking sweet you were when you cried around my cock. With how strong you were when all of them, when we..”
He broke off, then kissed your jaw.
“I just mean… you’re everything.”
You turned your head, kissed him gently.
His hands slid under the water, resting on your thighs, just holding.
Not wanting. Just being.
Moments later, soft splashes came from the side.
“Room for more?” Wooyoung asked with a grin.
One by one, the boys joined you, towels dropped, heat rising, laughter floating between the bubbles.
San leaned back with a bottle of champagne. Yeosang poured some for you.
Hongjoong slipped into the water beside you and passed you strawberries from a nearby tray. Seonghwa kissed your shoulder and settled beside Mingi.
You were surrounded.
Safe. Loved.
Wrecked.
And glowing.
Mingi tugged you closer again and whispered against your ear, lips curling up.
“You taste like summer,” he whispers against your skin. “Like sweat and desperation.”
pairing: mingi x fem reader
genre: 18+, summer, strangers au
summary: trapped in a sweltering desert motel, the only thing hotter than the broken AC is the stranger that welcomed you. you’re melting, desperate, and Mingi’s more than willing to help... with his mouth, his cock, and zero patience.
wc: 1.6k
warnings: mingi is confident af, reader is kinda shy?, objectification, possessiveness, unprotected sex (boo use protection irl!!!), rough sex, overstimulation, power play & kinda dom!mingi, dirty talk, degradation, sweat/heat kinkish elements, temperature play (cold water & ice cubes), light pinning (pinned wrists), breeding kink, completely consensual!, for sure forgot something, might edit later.
Author's Note: hey guysss I know I know there are a lot of delays in my posts 😞🤍 I've been writing some fics in advance and always get too tired at night and forget to post what I alr have 😭 oops. anywayyyy I loved writing this & it's inspired by a motel I saw omw back from Hungary this summer when I visited Budapest ☝️
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.
The heat feels alive. Sentient. Angry.
It wraps around your body like wet gauze, makes each breath a shallow gasp. Every pore of your skin is open, drenched. The steering wheel is a branding iron. You gave up trying to fan yourself with a crumpled receipt an hour ago. Your radiator gave out ten minutes later.
You’re stranded, literally baking in the late afternoon sun on a nameless desert highway. It’s too hot to think straight, too hot to panic. So you just follow the faint hope of a blinking motel sign in the distance.
The “Sunrise Motel” greets you like a mirage, its chipped letters and dusty windows promising only the barest version of shelter. You drag your feet toward the lobby, vision swimming, shirt plastered to your skin.
The door sticks. You push harder and stumble inside, shoulders slumping against the weak whir of a ceiling fan that sounds more decorative than functional. The air inside is only marginally cooler than outside, and it smells like scorched carpet and artificial lemon.
That’s when you see him.
Behind the desk, leaning on one elbow, face lit by a flickering desk lamp.
Mingi.
Tall, broad, jaw sharp enough to cut through your haze. He’s wearing a dark tank top soaked at the chest and armpits. His hair clings to his forehead in wet, tousled strands. One glance, and you forget your name. He’s gorgeous.
He looks you up and down, slow, deliberate, borderline predatory.
“Rough day?” he says, voice low and rasping.
“My car’s dead,” you croak. “Radiator gave out.”
Mingi sets his phone down and leans forward. The movement pulls his tank top tighter across his chest.
“You want a room?”
“I need one.”
He studies your face like he’s making a decision you’re not in on.
Finally, he nods. “We’ve got a few. Air conditioning’s garbage, but it’s better than the pavement.”
You step closer. “I’ll take it.”
He types something into the monitor, lazily, one hand, then grabs a room key off a hook behind him. He tosses it on the desk with a clink. “Room 8.”
You take the key. It burns against your palm.
“Try not to die of heatstroke in there,” he mutters.
You try to laugh. It comes out dry.
-
The room is a faded beige box with a ceiling fan that trembles like it's seconds from falling. The air conditioner in the window growls like a dying animal, but it exhales enough coolness to make the sweat on your back feel icy. You strip fast, kicking your shoes off, peeling your damp clothes away like molting skin. A towel goes under you. You lie on the bed, half-naked, barely able to move.
Time passes. Your eyelids flutter closed. The heat wraps around you again, even indoors. You're starting to drift off when a knock breaks the silence.
You flinch.
“Yeah?” you call out, voice hoarse.
“Got water,” Mingi says from the hallway. “You looked like you needed it.”
You hesitate for a beat, and then: “Come in.”
The door opens slowly. He steps in like he owns the place, which, maybe, he does. Shirtless now. Hair wet from a quick rinse, maybe. Or just sweat. His abs are glistening. He carries two chilled bottles of water, beads of condensation dripping from his fingers.
His gaze lands on you, and he stops walking. His lips part slightly. He doesn't hide the way his eyes move across your bare thighs, the towel slipping down your hip, the flush of heat rising between your breasts.
“Didn’t think you’d be... comfortable like this,” he murmurs.
“It’s too hot to be modest,” you mutter, wiping your forehead. And maybe you’d just did that to get his attention.
He licks his lips. Slowly. “No complaints here.”
You reach out a hand. “Can I have one?”
He steps closer but doesn’t give it to you right away. Instead, he presses the cold bottle against your stomach.
You yelp, jerking back.
He laughs. “Told you I was helping.”
You try to scowl, but it’s too hot and he’s too pretty.
“Seriously,” you say. “I think I’m boiling alive.”
“I can fix that,” he replies without missing a beat.
Your heart skips.
His voice has changed, gone darker, silkier. Less teasing, more hungry. You know that tone. You've heard it before, but never directed at you like this. Like he’s been waiting.
“I..” you start, but the words dissolve. Your mouth is dry. Not from dehydration.
His gaze drags over you like a hand. “You want me to cool you off, sweetheart?”
You nod. Your throat’s too tight to speak.
You swallow. “Yes.”
He closes the distance in three slow steps.
-
He sets the bottles down beside the bed, then sinks to his knees beside you, fingers ghosting over your slick skin.
“Gonna need full access,” he mutters, tugging the towel off. You don’t stop him. It's Mingi, after all. “May I?” he asks, pointing softly toward your body, as if he didn’t just get you bare in front of him. You nod, this situation being a desire in the back of your mind ever since you saw him at the reception.
His palms are warm, but the bottle he picks up next is cold, painfully so. He upends it over your stomach, letting a steady stream of freezing water pour over your belly, trailing down your ribs.
You cry out, arching. He presses a firm hand to your chest.
“Shhh,” he says. “Let it happen.”
The contrast between the icy water and the ambient heat is unbearable. You writhe. He watches. Then leans down and licks the water trail off your skin.
His tongue is hot. You moan, knees bending instinctively.
“You taste like summer,” he whispers against your skin. “Like sweat and desperation.”
He finds the hollow of your hip, then your inner thigh. His tongue flicks lazily, teasing. He drips more water between your legs, then uses his mouth to chase it.
The cold shocks you. His tongue burns. The tension is maddening.
“You’re trembling,” he murmurs. “Everything okay?”
“I’ve been..” you gasp as his fingers slip through your folds, slick and ready. “It’s been hours..on the road…I couldn’t stop thinking about..”
“Someone like me?” he interrupts, grinning against your thigh. “You were wet just by thinking of meeting someone like me while your car was dying?”
You whimper. “I didn’t know it was gonna actually happen...”
“But you wanted it to, am I right?”
You can’t deny it. You don’t even try.
He rises, towering over you, arms braced on either side of your head.
“You gonna let me use you, baby?”
The words hit you like thunder.
“Say yes.”
“Yes.”
He groans, low and real, like it gets to him just as much.
-
When he slides into you, it’s slow. Torturous.
You clench, needy, greedy. He hisses through his teeth, stopping halfway in.
“Fuck.. You’re tight.”
Your fingers grip his shoulders. “Please..”
“Not yet,” he growls. “Need you to feel how good this is.”
His hips roll forward, and you nearly sob.
“Been thinking about a girl like you walking in for months,” he pants. “Mouthy and soaked, just needing someone to fill you up.”
He thrusts harder, pace quickening. His sweat drips onto your chest. You lick it without thinking, and he watches with wide, almost feral eyes.
“You like that?” he growls. “Filthy thing.”
“Yeah..”
“You want more of my sweat? Or you want my cock deeper?”
“Both… !”
He laughs, a little unhinged. “Fuck.”
He pulls your knees up, folds you in half, and begins destroying you, each thrust brutal and perfect. You’re crying out, nails digging into his back, head spinning.
“God…Mingi! Please..”
“You’re gonna come,” he snarls. “Come like a heat-crazed slut..”
And you do. Hard. Violent. Your orgasm explodes through your belly like a pressure valve releasing. You scream, shaking under him.
But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down.
Your body is limp. You’re nothing but pulse and sweat and wet skin. And he’s still moving, still using you, groaning every time he bottoms out.
“I’m not done,” he mutters. “Not until you break.”
You reach for him blindly, hands desperate for contact. He grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. His free hand finds the melted ice bucket and rubs a cube over your nipple. You scream again, from sensitivity, from cold, from shock.
He kisses your neck, your collarbone, the corner of your mouth.
“You’re mine now,” he whispers.
You moan helplessly as he hovers the ice cube over your swollen clit and as he feels the coldness of it his pace stutters.
When he comes, it’s rough and breathless, buried deep inside you. You feel him twitch, spill, collapse onto your chest.
-
Time stretches.
Neither of you moves for several minutes. The fan hums overhead. The air conditioner clunks. Somewhere in the distance, a cicada buzzes.
Mingi lifts his head and looks down at you. Hair wild. Lips swollen. Chest heaving.
“You okay?” he asks, voice gentler now.
You nod slowly. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“I can’t feel my legs, but yeah.”
He smirks. “Good. That means I did it right.”
You laugh, hoarse and broken.
He rolls off you, pulls you into his side, and reaches for one of the water bottles. He opens it and brings it to your lips.
“Drink.”
You do, grateful.
“You were unbelievable,” he murmurs, hand stroking your hip.
You nuzzle into his shoulder. “You were insane.”
“I was overheated,” he says casually. “Heat makes me feral.”
You chuckle, dazed. “Guess I should get stranded more often.”
He turns, eyes glinting. “You plan to stay the night?”
You glance around the room, the ugly curtains, the buzzing fan, the crumpled sheets.
“With room service like this?” You grin. “Definitely.”
Hello guys! I have a question and I would love it if everyone gave an honest answer. If I ever start commissioning fics, as in you guys sending requests and paying me to write them, would you do that? Or should I not do that yet? I'm asking cause I'm a student and sometimes would love to monetise my writing & stuff, even for a small amount of money. What do you think?
If any links don't work anymore please let me know I'll get it fixed as soon as possible ^^
(Note: sorry this took such a long time but he's finally here!!)
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Series ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
ᯓᡣ𐭩 You Never Asked | Part 2 | Part 3 - @zeroseuniverse
| bf!jongho (COMPLETED)
“What do you mean ‘what’?!” Mingi cried out. “You have a girlfriend? Since when?”
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Chained | Part 2 - @sunshineyuyu ✴
| friends to lovers au, college au (COMPLETED)
jongho wears a silver chain that you’re obsessed with, and you finally get his attention after some calculated flirting with yunho and some beer pong.
Ready Or Not | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 - @vent-stink
| idol au, parent au, idol dad!jongho x idol mom!reader, !attempted suicide, !post-partum depression (ONGOING)
When Jongho realizes he wasn't prepared for your decline post-partum, he makes an executive decision that he can't take back.
When I Fall | Part 2 | Finale - @xomakara ✴
| stepson!jongho (COMPLETED)
You’re trapped in a loveless and childless marriage to Taeho, a divorced older man that is a friend of your father’s. After fifteen years of marriage and no children of your own, Taeho starts to see other women since you’re past your prime and can’t give him heirs. One night, tired of your husband and his emotional abuse, you go out with some friends, get shit-faced drunk, and meet Jongho, a man fifteen years younger than you, that will change your life forever.
Sweet Enough Already | Part 2 - @mingiatz ✴
| college au, enemies to lovers au (COMPLETED)
Y/N thought Jongho was just the annoying black-coffee addict who made her mornings miserable. But late-night movie marathons, marathon training (literally), and one accidental kiss prove he might be the one person who can turn her world upside down—in the best and worst ways.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Finding Our Way Back - @03jyh23
| ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader (ONGOING)
five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.
It wasn't uncommon for couples to fight, no matter how compatible they were. Since the day you met, you were human after all, but perhaps the two of you were also flawed. One of you was hormonal, while the other was being too considerate.
Rhythm And Ruin - @reveriebae ✴
| idol!jongho x choreographer!reader
When teasing Jongho during late-night dance practice turns into a battle of control, you find yourself pinned, wrecked, and ruined by the quietest member of the group—who turns out to be anything but gentle behind closed doors. Cocky mouths get fucked, bratty attitudes get corrected, and you? You get stuffed full, overstimulated, and made to remember exactly who he is.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sick Day - @evenyvn
| best friend!jongho
in which you accidentally stood up your best friend because of cold.
A Cozy Game Night - @03jyh23
| bf!jongho
the one where jongho learns not to stack +2s
untitled - @beenbaanbuun (lowkey ✴)
stoic piercer jongho giving you nipple piercings. that’s it, that’s the tweet.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Lessons In Love - @milfgyuu
| friends to lovers au, teacher au, teacher!jongho x teacher!reader
Your students learn that both you and the teacher next door are single which brings up the pressing matter of getting you two together. Immediately.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Meet My Chaos - @makeitmingi
| bf!jongho
After dating you for a bit and maintaining secrecy, Jongho knew you are the one he wants to introduce to his family. While you have met his real family, there's another family that he's been slightly reluctant to let you meet.
Part Of Your World - @makeitmingi
| single parent au, CEO bf!jongho x single mom!reader
It has always been you and Yuwon. After his birth father left, you never let yourself love anyone else, believing Yuwon was all you needed. Until Jongho came along, entering your life and healing your broken heart. Now, it's time for them to meet but is Yuwon ready for Jongho to be a part of your lives?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pretend You Love Me - @hongjoongspoetry
| soulmate au, rich badboy!jongho x student!reader
Jongho, heir to Choi Clothes, and you are soulmates marked by each other’s names on your wrists since birth. Instead of a fairy-tale romance, you’re stuck in a fake dating contract to restore Jongho’s tarnished image created by scandals. As you navigate public events and play the part of a cute couple, the lines between fake and real blur together. Despite your undeniable chemistry, you refuse to take him seriously due to his reckless past. As the arrangement nears its end, you must confront the truth about your feelings and whether you can move beyond the contract.
Shameless - @bvidzsoo
| marriage of convenience au, mafia au
Always hungry for more, in a world full of men who fought for more power, you might have just hit the jackpot by coming to an agreement and marrying the country's mafia leader's son. Soon, Jongho and you will be the one leading all.
The Things We Pretend - @lcvejjoong
| best friends to lovers au
You were pretending. Until you were not.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Second Chance At Love - @xomakara ✴
| single parent au, widow single dad!jongho x nanny!reader
Jongho’s twin daughters really want you to be their new mom ever since you have been taking care of them after their mom passed. They’re trying to play matchmaker between you and Jongho to fall in love, but in actuality, you and Jongho already have feelings for each other.
Craving You - @xomakara ✴
| friends to lovers au
When you accidently send a nude of yourself to Jongho, he can’t help but look and start to crave you. The only thing standing in his way: your friendship.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 A Turn About The Room - @mingoner
jongho is your best friend's brother, and you have always known him to be indifferent to everyone and everything. year after year he has shown no interest in the marriage market; however, when you ask him to help you find your own match his interest just might, finally, be piqued.
No Safe Haven - @mingi-s-dimples ✴
| military au, enemies to lovers au, military general!jongho x captured spy!reader
you never thought infiltrating in his base would get you utterly destroyed and ruined in his office.. but he made sure to make you scream his name.
Let Me Help - @pirateprincessblog ✴
| idol!jongho x single mom/makeup artist!reader
after giving birth and getting bored at home, you come back to work. nothing has changed, except the pair of eyes that look at you in a different light in the corner of the room.
Sweet Nothings - @joong-of-gold
it was astonishing how just a few syrupy sweet words could have you in the palm of jongho’s hand. you had set your mind on taking this information to the grave, and your secret had been safe. until now.
The One With The Soccer Punch - @fizzyapplecandy
| college au, soccer player!jongho
The captain of your college soccer team sure knows how to shoot and score.
Stay A Little Longer - @soft4changbin
| bf!jongho
You and Jongho spend a slow, cozy morning in bed, wrapped in blankets, sleepy cuddles, and soft love.
Baby, I'm Yours - @kysstar
| bf!jongho
Jongho has always loved you quietly — not with big gestures, but with small, consistent things: walking you home, remembering how you take your coffee, holding the umbrella even when he’s getting soaked. you’ve dated other guys, chased louder versions of love, but nothing ever felt as safe as his silence.
Cheer You On - @vent-stink
| soccer player!Jongho x cheerleader!reader
Unprofessional - @missmaniac25
| therapist!jongho
Coffee For Sex? - @pinkpowderpuffbaby
| husband!jongho
I Missed You - @star-byeoli ✴
| idol bf!jongho
All Bark - @last-words-ofashootingstar ✴
| bodyguard/fiancé!jongho x mafia daughter!reader
All The Things I Love - @tinybeetiny
| bf!jonho
Arguing With Bf!Jongho - @jaehyvno (anyone know if they changed usernames or deactivated? link should still work tho ^^)
|bf!jongho
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Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung
Hey guys !!! I missed everyone so much ^^ As next year is my last year of hs and I will have lots of studying to do, I planned my year just a bit in advance so that I can post regularly!! Of course, I will write them then at the given moment, but at least I know exactly what I want to post and when!! So it will be really helpful ^^
I have some Kinktober fics already in the making for you guys >.< so excited for those, some are kinda normal and some are.. quite interesting lmao.
I also want to post at least once or twice a month in all of the months until June (including June) and excepting October when I will be posting a looot for Kinktober.
Other than that I have one-two mini events planned so that I can keep y'all engaged.
If you've got any ideas, please let me know in the comments? I'd love to hear y'alls thoughts!
~"You taste better than anything else I've ever had..."
pairing: san x fem reader
genre: 18+, summer, model x model
summary: you and your man, san, decide to spend some time together at a private villa to celebrate one year of having your own luxury brand
wc: 1.9k
warnings: established relationship, model x model, dom san, soft dom san, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, pool sex, sex against a glass door, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), alcohol use (they're tipsy nothing too serious, champagne), hair pulling, rough sex, moaning, multiple orgasms, worshipping, he's so so in love with her, teasing, some manhandling, he eats her out nicely on the ledge, completely consensual!, might edit later, for sure forgot something.
Author's Note: I loved writing this ngl. Also, this fic is based... on a villa I saw yesterday while visiting the center of Makarska, the zone I'm visiting on my trip oops-. Croatia is so beautiful 😭 I love it sm, tomorrow I'm sadly leaving 👹 but I wanna come back for suuure
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.
The sliding glass door glides shut behind you with a faint click, sealing off the villa’s cool interior from the sea-scented dusk outside. A hush settles, soft and almost reverent, broken only by the distant caw of gulls and the subtle lapping of waves far below. The entire Adriatic spreads endlessly before you, cobalt turning lavender, then amber, like spilled ink slowly washing into fire. But your eyes aren’t on the view.
They’re on him.
San leans lazily against the whitewashed bedroom wall, just to the right of the open terrace. The fading sunlight kisses every curve of his chest, golden skin still slick from a recent shower, droplets tracking the lines of his collarbones, pooling briefly at the dip of his sternum before sliding lower. He’s wearing nothing but black swim trunks that ride low on his hips, clinging faintly to damp skin. Stray locks of wet hair curl against his forehead, and his gaze, half-lidded but unwavering, drags over you like a physical touch.
You shift, the white bikini you chose earlier feeling tighter under his stare, and not just because of the fit. He’s always had this effect on you. That silent possession. That unwavering attention that turns every breath electric. You’ve been with him for years, but somehow his gaze still makes your spine arc with anticipation.
“Come here,” he says, low, quiet, like a private sin passed between lips in church.
You walk slowly. Intentionally. The tiles are warm beneath your bare feet, and the straps of your bikini brush your skin with each step. He watches you with the kind of hunger that doesn’t need explanation, eyes lingering on the swell of your chest, the curve of your waist, the sheen of salt still clinging to your skin from your earlier swim in the sea. When you stop in front of him, he doesn’t touch you. Not yet.
His fingers hover just shy of your hips, teasing the air between you. Then, featherlight, he lets them skim beneath the band of your bikini bottom, dragging against your skin. His touch is slow. Measured. Like he's relearning you cell by cell.
“I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder. Not rushed, not showy, just lips against skin and a breath drawn like worship. “One year since we launched this crazy dream. And look at you now. My muse. My partner. My problem.”
You laugh, a soft, breathless sound that falters when his hands roam lower. “Don’t start. We haven’t even opened the champagne.”
His lips curve into a smile against your skin. “I’m not starting anything,” he lies. “Just touching what’s mine.”
-
Outside on the terrace, the world glows.
Sunlight bathes the horizon in gradients of apricot and soft rose, casting a golden shimmer across the glass-like surface of the infinity pool. The stone tiles beneath your feet still hold the heat of the day, and a warm breeze carries traces of jasmine and brine through the air.
You stand by the outdoor kitchenette, fingers curled around the chilled neck of a champagne bottle. You angle it, pop the cork, and watch as it fizzes over with a delicate hiss. San, behind you, lights two slim candles on the edge of the pool. The flames flicker against the dying sun, casting flickers of orange across his cheekbones.
He steps over, shirtless, barefoot, effortless. He takes a flute from your hand.
“To us,” he says, voice like poured wine. “To one year of turning our names into something bigger than just faces in campaigns. To the brand. To the blood and sweat. And to tonight, where I want you all to myself.”
You clink glasses.
The champagne dances across your tongue, sharp and cold and just sweet enough. The second sip goes down easier. The third, smoother. Your shoulders begin to drop. You’re relaxed, but charged, aware of every place his skin might brush yours, every glance that lingers just a bit too long.
San rests his hand on your lower back. His thumb slides beneath the delicate string of your bikini bottoms, tracing idle circles just above the swell of your ass. The contact is light, teasing, but precise.
“You always drink like that?” he asks, watching you over the rim of his glass.
You smirk. “Only when I want to get kissed.”
He leans in instantly, pressing a warm kiss to your temple. “Then I’m clearly not drinking fast enough.”
The mood between you tightens, not tense, but intimate. Familiar. Buzzing.
You glance toward the pool. “Swim?”
He raises a brow. “You first.”
-
The water is warm from the day’s sun, wrapping around your legs like silk as you descend the steps. Your bikini clings tighter now, soaked in seconds, and the world takes on an underwater hush, only broken by the ripple of your movements and the distant rhythm of cicadas.
The view is surreal. From here, the Adriatic seems to melt into the edge of the pool, sky and sea one endless sweep of rose gold and periwinkle. You float for a moment, watching the last sliver of sun kiss the horizon.
Then you feel him.
San slides in behind you, arms strong, slow-moving under the surface, gathering you against his chest. Your back presses into his torso, slick skin against slick skin. One of your legs floats up, his leg catching it effortlessly. You can feel him, hard, pulsing, a subtle pressure against your ass. His nose nudges your temple.
“You look like a fucking goddess,” he whispers, brushing his lips down your jaw. “And you’re making it very hard to behave.”
You turn around and your hands snake around his neck, fingers threading into damp hair. “Then don’t.”
The growl he lets out rumbles deep in his chest.
His mouth finds yours, and it’s everything. Slow but hungry, deliberate but dizzying. His tongue teases, his lips press and part and claim. Your toes curl under the water. His hands travel. one up your ribs, the other gripping your ass beneath the surface. He lifts you effortlessly, setting you onto the warm stone ledge.
The air hits your skin, suddenly, cool, but his mouth is already on your thigh.
The stone is smooth beneath your palms as you lean back. San stays in the water between your legs, eyes flicking up to yours like a man about to pray and then sin.
His hands part your thighs, slow and reverent, until you’re fully open to him. His lips trail up your leg, open-mouth kisses, tongue dragging in lazy circles until he reaches the place you want him most.
His mouth finds your cunt.
It’s soft at first, exploratory, savoring. Then deeper. Needier. His tongue flicks over your clit with tight, devastating precision, and your hips jerk.
“Oh my”
“Don’t hold back,” he murmurs, voice strained and dark with want. “I want to hear what I do to you.”
You don’t hold back.
Your moans echo into the warm air, mingling with the slap of water against the pool walls. San’s hands hold you open, unrelenting, as his tongue works you in slow spirals, then faster, hungrier. He groans when you tug at his hair, and the vibration pushes you closer and closer.
He flattens his tongue, circling your clit with a maddening rhythm. Then he dips down, sucking, licking, devouring like he’s desperate.
You come hard.
Thighs shaking, head tipped back, mouth open as you cry out his name. He doesn’t stop. He licks you through it, slow strokes, tasting, worshipping every twitch of your body. He only stops when your legs go slack and your hips try to pull away.
Then he pulls back, dripping and flushed, hair slicked back from his face. “You taste better than anything else I’ve ever had.”
You barely catch your breath before he pulls you in the water, back into his arms, back into his hunger.
He kisses you, deep and unrestrained. You taste yourself on his tongue. His hands roam beneath the water, cupping your breasts through the thin fabric, thumbs circling your nipples until they peak. His cock presses between your thighs, hot and heavy.
“Here?” you whisper, gasping.
“Please…” he says, teeth grazing your lip.
He lifts your leg and sinks into you. Slow, deep, agonizingly controlled. Every inch is a stretch, a drag, a claim.
You gasp, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “San- ah”
The water shifts around you, each thrust sending little waves to lap at the pool’s edge. His movements are fluid but strong, slow at first, then faster, rougher. He fucks you like he owns you. Like he’s proving a point.
Your moans mix with his groans, the sounds low and needy, raw. He keeps you close, chest to chest, one hand gripping your thigh while the other cradles your lower back.
“God, baby,” he pants. “You’re so wet. So fucking tight. Made for me.”
Moments later he comes inside you, full-body quake, breath caught, thighs trembling. He kisses you through it, tongue sliding against yours as your body clenches around him.
But he doesn’t stop.
-
San carries you out of the water, gripping your thighs, walking barefoot across the stone floor. Water drips from your bodies, leaving a trail to the villa’s sliding glass doors.
He presses you against the cool glass, your back arching from the temperature contrast. His hand smooths up your spine, then grabs your hair, wrapping it tightly around his wrist.
He turns you.
“Stay just like that.”
You brace your palms against the door, panting, nipples hard against the glass. You see your own reflection, dazed, flushed, glowing. San watches too.
He thrusts into you hard.
The sound is obscene. Wet skin on wet skin. Your gasp fogs the glass.
“You want everyone on that fucking coast to see you like this?” he growls. “Want them to know who you belong to?”
His hand tugs your hair, arching your back. You whimper. His name breaks from your throat.
He pounds into you with a punishing rhythm, body crashing into yours, breathing a snarl in your ear. The glass rattles. His other hand slides up to your chest, fingers rolling your nipple until you sob his name.
“Fuck, look at you,” he grits. “Look at us.”
He slams into you once more, deep, relentless, and you unravel again, voice hoarse, body trembling.
He comes with a guttural groan, hips jerking, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he fills you to the brim.
He doesn’t let go.
Not right away. His chest presses to your back. His breath is hot against your ear. You both stand there, suspended in golden silence.
Eventually, his grip softens. He untangles his hand from your hair, smoothing it gently down your back.
“You good?” he murmurs, voice hoarse.
You turn to him. He gathers you close, cradling your face.
“Still mine?” he asks, almost too softly.
Your smile is sleepy but sure. “Always.”
The sun vanishes beyond the sea. The sky dims. Crickets begin to sing.
Inside the villa, San kisses you again. softer now. Slower. Less lust and more love. The kind of kiss you’d wait a lifetime for. The kind of kiss that tastes like home.
And for one long, sacred moment, the world feels still, his arms around you, and a love that feels bigger than heaven itself.
summary: your little altercation with yunho ends up really interesting... him testing his own techniques and you being marked.. entirely.
wc: 6.3k
warnings: mafia au, dom sub dynamic, yunho is ruthless, a lot of cnc moments, mention of safe word "red" but never used (was tested multiple times and said green), knife play, blood play, carving, restraints, bondage, choking, impact play, humiliation, degradation (slut, brat, pathetic, filthy little thing), begging, overstim, orgasm denial, use of toys (vibrator), forced submission (consensual), powerlessness kink, cumplay, cum eating, praise kink, size kink, biting, lots of manhandling, just a lil slight stockholm syndrome (i initially wanted to omit adding this but i feel like anything that feels i should warn about should be added), obsession/possessive, breeding kink, way too many rounds, predator/prey dynamic, rough sex, captivity, fear kink, sadomasochism, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), COMPLETELY consensual despite everything!!!!, for sure forgot sth, might edit later.
Author's Note: omfg omfg omfg it's happening i am posting this is not a joke i posted 😭😭😭 fuck my life i have been trying to post this for the past few days and i just have not had time to finish proof reading it and everything i am so sorry, but at least i posted! fear no more i am back i promise i ll post more often 🫶🏼 i am on summer vacay now so i have a lot of ideas 🙈 cannot wait to write everything and post emmm i missed you guys so much 😭🩷
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.
The room smelled of expensive whiskey and gunpowder. Low-lit chandeliers cast golden hues over the mahogany desk where Jung Yunho sat, sleeves rolled up, fingers tapping impatiently against the polished wood. A black vest hugged his torso, the tie at his neck perfectly in place despite the chaos surrounding him. Leather harnesses wrapped over his broad shoulders, an unspoken warning of the weapons he always carried.
And now, here you were, standing before him, wrists still red from the fight you put up when his men dragged you into his den.
"You look like hell," Yunho remarked, voice slow, deepmocking. His dark eyes roamed over you, unreadable, calculating.
"You should see the other guy," you shot back, refusing to show weakness.
That earned you a smirk. Yunho leaned forward, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled as he studied you like a predator sizing up its prey. "You’re out of options, princess. Your father’s dead. Your people are either dead or scattered. And now, you’re standing in my territory."
You hated the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Hated the way he looked at you like he already owned you.
"I didn’t come here to beg," you spat, straightening your shoulders.
"No," Yunho mused, standing slowly. He adjusted his cuffs, the leather straps over his chest flexing as he moved. He was all hard lines, power, and authority, a man who had never been denied anything in his life. "You came here because you need me. And I don’t do charity."
Your heart pounded as he stepped closer, heat radiating from his body.
"So tell me, sweetheart," he murmured, lifting your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "How badly do you want my help?”
Yunho’s grip on your chin was firm, his fingers warm against your skin. His dark eyes bore into yours, but you refused to look away. If he wanted you to submit, he was going to be sorely disappointed.
"You’re awfully quiet," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "Finally learning your place?"
You let out a low laugh, rolling your eyes. "Please. If you really wanted me gone, you would’ve put a bullet in my head the second your men dragged me in here."
His jaw tightened.
Bingo.
You smirked, pressing on. "But you didn’t. And you won’t." You leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something sickly sweet. "Because you like having me here, don’t you, Yunho?"
His fingers twitched, a flicker of something flashing through his gaze. Annoyance? Amusement? Lust? Probably all three.
"I keep you alive because you’re useful," he said smoothly, but there was an edge to his voice now.
You tsked, shaking your head. "Liar."
Yunho’s expression darkened. "Careful, princess."
"Or what?" You leaned back against the desk, tilting your head at him mockingly. "You’ll kill me? You won’t. You like me too much."
The air was thick with tension, his patience clearly thinning by the second. You knew you were pushing him, knew you were dancing on a razor’s edge, but god, the way his jaw clenched? The way his hands flexed, like he was seconds away from snapping? It was intoxicating.
And then, in a blink, he moved.
Before you could react, Yunho grabbed you by the waist, lifting you like you weighed nothing and slamming you onto the desk. Papers and whiskey glasses clattered to the floor as you let out a sharp gasp, your back pressing against the cool wood.
He loomed over you, his harnesses and tie still perfectly in place, like a demon wrapped in fine silk and steel.
"You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?" he muttered, voice low, dangerous.
You smirked up at him, breathing uneven. "Make me."
His eyes darkened. "Don’t tempt me, sweetheart."
The desk was cold beneath you, but Yunho’s body was burning. His grip was tightone large hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip, holding you in place like you might try to run. Not that you would.
Not when his eyes were fixed on you like that.
Like he was deciding what to do with you.
"You don’t know what you’re playing with, princess," Yunho murmured, his thumb grazing your hip, just enough pressure to remind you that he was in control.
You smirked, pretending the way he had you pinned didn’t make your breath hitch. "Ohhh, so this is your thing," you teased, tilting your head. "All that control, all that dominancewhat, you like tying people up, too?"
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "I do more than just tie them up."
Your lips parted slightly. His voice had dropped lower, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t embarrassed. He wasn’t denying it. No, Yunho was owning it.
"You think this is a joke," he said, studying your face. "But this is who I am. This is what I do." His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against your thigh. "And I want to use that on you."
Your stomach flipped, a shiver running down your spine. "Oh?" You arched a brow, keeping your voice light. "And what if I say no?"
He smirked. "Then I walk away."
A pause.
"But," he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, "we both know you’re curious."
Damn it. He wasn’t wrong.
Your pulse thundered as he straightened up, his hand finally leaving your body, only to reach into the drawer of his desk. He pulled out a black silk tie, letting it drape between his fingers.
"You wanna keep acting like a brat? Fine." His voice was smooth, dangerous. "But if you want to play in my world, you play by my rules."
You swallowed hard. "Your rules?"
He stepped closer, towering over you, his presence suffocating. "First rule: I don’t do anything without a safe word."
Your breath caught. "Oh. So this is"
"Yeah, this is real," Yunho cut in, his voice firm. "This isn’t just about control, sweetheart. This is about trust." His fingers curled under your chin, forcing you to look at him. "And I want to hear your safe word."
Your lips parted, but no words came out at first. He was giving you a choice. Giving you control while making it clear that if you stepped into his world, he wouldn’t hold back.
You exhaled. "Red."
Yunho’s eyes darkened.
"Good girl," he murmured, smirking.
Then he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, and leaned down until his lips were just barely brushing your ear.
"Now let’s see if you remember to use it."
The weight of Yunho’s body pressed you into the desk, his hands keeping you caged beneath him. He still hadn’t let go of your wrists, fingers wrapped tight around them like a silent warning.
"You’ve been such a pain in my ass," he muttered, his voice low, rough, dripping with irritation and something else.
Something dark. Something dangerous.
You smirked, breathless. "Yet you still won’t let me go."
Yunho’s grip tightened. His patience had run out.
With a sharp tug, he yanked you up from the desk, before slamming your back again against the cold wood. You gasped, but the sound barely left your lips before his hands were on your clothes tearing, pulling, taking.
Fabric ripped like it was nothing in his grasp. Your shirt, your bragone in seconds. His rough palms grazed over your bare skin, and the heat in his touch sent a shiver racing down your spine.
"Look at you," he murmured, eyes dark and hungry as he took you in. "All that attitude, all that fucking resistance" His hand traced up your thigh, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. "And now you’re right where you belong."
Your breath hitched. "Cocky bastard."
Yunho chuckled, but it wasn’t warm. It was cruel.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into."
Before you could respond, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head again. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out something sleek and black.
A knife.
Your stomach flipped.
The cool blade pressed against your hip, tracing slow, deliberate lines over your skinnot cutting, just threatening.
Your breath caught. "You wouldn’t"
"Wouldn’t I?" Yunho smirked. "I told youI don’t do anything without a safe word." He leaned in, lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Use it if you need to."
You stayed silent. A challenge.
Yunho laughed.
"Good girl," he praised.
His hands were everywhere gripping, pressing, controlling. The knife sliced through your underwear with a clean flick of his wrist, the fabric falling away like nothing. He didn’t undress himself. Didn’t even loosen his tie. No, he liked keeping himself put together, liked the contrast of him being fully clothed while you were completely bare beneath him.
His dominance was suffocating. Overpowering.
He wrapped a hand around your throat, not squeezing, just enough to remind you who was in charge. "You’re mine," he murmured. "And I’m going to ruin you."
Yunho was a man of his word.
The moment those words left his lips, he moved with the kind of precision that only came from years of control, measured, calculated, unyielding. In a matter of seconds, you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressing against the polished mahogany desk. The cool surface burned against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Yunho’s body hovering over you.
You barely had time to breathe before he reached with practiced ease, he grasped your wrists, pulling them behind your back and tying them together, tight enough to keep you restrained, loose enough to allow just a hint of movement. You tugged instinctively, testing the hold, but it was no use. The knot was secure.
"Perfect," Yunho muttered under his breath, running a slow, deliberate hand down your arm before reaching into the desk drawer.
The soft rustle of fabric told you what was coming next, but the blindfold still startled you when it brushed over your skin. The silk was cool as he wrapped it around your head, plunging you into darkness. Your other senses sharpened instantly, his breath against your ear, the slight creak of the leather harnesses straining over his broad shoulders as he adjusted his stance.
"You act so fucking tough," he mused, his tone carrying that same infuriating mix of amusement and condescension. "But look at you now."
You inhaled sharply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
Yunho chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the power shift. He stepped away for a moment, the absence of his warmth making your skin prickle. The sound of something metallic clicking open had your stomach tightening. Before anything, he pulled you up, your back once again on the desk, and as he moved your tied hands above your head, he traced his hand on your waist.
The smooth, stainless steel of his knife kissed the bare skin of your thigh, tracing slow, teasing lines upward. He wasn’t cutting, just reminding you of what he could do. What he would do if he wanted.
Your breath hitched.
"You like this," he murmured, voice thick with realization. "You like being at my mercy."
You bit your lip, refusing to confirm it. But you didn’t need to. Yunho already knew. And he was about to take full advantage of it.
The knife left your skin, and a moment later, you felt the unmistakable sensation of fabric tightening against your leg, soft straps being secured high on your thigh. Your body tensed as you realized what he was doing.
A vibrator.
Tied directly to your clit.
"Yunho"
A flick of his fingers and pleasure jolted through you like a live wire. Your back arched off the desk, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as the vibrations settled into a torturous, pulsing rhythm, just strong enough to make your toes curl, just weak enough to leave you wanting more.
Yunho pressed a firm hand against your lower belly, keeping you pinned in place. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "We're just getting started."
The blindfold made everything worse. You couldn’t see him, couldn’t predict his next move. All you could do was feel.
Feel the teasing pulse between your legs.
Feel the way his hands roamed over your body, barely touching where you needed him most.
Feel the sharp edge of his knife as it returned to your skin, this time pressing just a little deeper.
Not enough to break the surface. Just enough to sting.
Your breath stuttered, but your body welcomed the sensation. Yunho noticed.
"Filthy little thing," he muttered, dragging the blade up your side, over the curve of your ribs. "You should see yourself right now. Wrists tied, legs shaking, pussy already clenching around nothing."
You whimpered. Fuck. Fuck. You were losing this battle, and he knew it.
"You wanted to act tough." His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, a cruel smirk in his voice. "Now beg."
Your pride told you not to.
Your body told you otherwise.
You swallowed thickly, fingers clenching into fists above you. "No."
Yunho sighed, the sound almost disappointed. "Wrong answer."
The vibrations cut out completely.
Your breath caught in your throat. "Yunho"
"Now you really want it, don’t you?"
You bit your lip so hard it almost hurt. The frustration, the denial, it was driving you insane. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. And he was just standing there, watching, waiting.
A sharp, stinging drag of the knife against your thigh made you jolt, the delicious bite of pain sending heat straight to your core.
A breathy moan escaped before you could stop it.
Yunho laughed.
"Oh, sweetheart," he purred, lips brushing against your temple. "You're so easy to break."
The worst part?
You loved every second of it.
Yunho didn’t waste time. The blade glided over your skin, cool, sharp, and deliberate. He dragged it down the inside of your thigh, enough to make your breath stutter. The contrast between the cold metal and his burning touch sent a violent shiver up your spine.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured, smirking as he pressed the flat of the blade against your hip. “Already scared?”
You swallowed hard, refusing to give him that satisfaction. “No.”
Yunho chuckled darkly. “You will be.”
Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach, your chest pressed against the cool wood of his desk, your hands behind you.
“Spread.” His voice was an order, leaving no room for argument.
You hesitated.
A sharp smack landed on the curve of your ass, making you jolt.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Heat rushed through your body, humiliation and arousal tangled together in a way that made you dizzy. Slowly, you parted your legs, your face pressed against the desk.
“Good girl.”
The praise sent another wave of heat through you, but it was short-lived. Yunho pressed the cold blade against your inner thigh, this time dragging it up, up, up until the tip of it barely grazed over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. It was almost embarrassing how you were spread in front of him, back arched and your pussy full on display.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your body tensing.
“You trust me, don’t you?” His voice was velvety smooth, dark and rich like the whiskey he always drank.
You nodded, barely able to breathe.
“Use your words.”
“Yes.” Your voice came out softer than you intended.
“Then hold still.”
The knife didn’t cut. Yunho knew exactly what he was doing, using the blunt edge to tease, to torment, to keep you right on that knife’s edge between fear and pleasure. You trembled beneath him, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.
And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled the knife away and replaced it with something else, a vibrator.
You barely had time to react before he pressed the toy firmly against your clit, securing it against your leg again with another strip of leather. The sensation was instant, intense, overwhelming. Your bound wrists clenched behind your back as you gasped, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core.
“Too much?” Yunho taunted, fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You were so mouthy a minute ago.”
You whimpered, your body already betraying you. The constant, relentless stimulation had your thighs trembling, your back arching.
Yunho leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t come until I say.”
Your breath hitched.
He wasn’t going to let you go easy.
For what felt like an eternity, he watched as you writhed, as your body betrayed you, as the pleasure built higher and higher until you were right on the edge.
And then he stopped it.
The vibrator shut off in an instant. The sudden loss made you gasp, frustration pooling in your gut.
“No” The word slipped out before you could stop it.
Yunho smirked, standing back to admire the wrecked sight of you. “Oh, princess,” he murmured, voice dripping with cruel amusement. “You didn’t actually think I’d let you come that easily, did you?”
A desperate whimper left your lips. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, trying to chase the pleasure he had so cruelly ripped away.
Yunho clicked his tongue. “Pathetic,” he mused. “Look at you already shaking, already desperate.”
He let a beat of silence pass before grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. His grip was firm, possessive.
“Beg.”
You swallowed hard, pride battling with need.
But you were already too far gone.
“Please.” Your voice was barely a whisper.
“Please what?”
Your face burned, humiliation and arousal twisting together into something unbearable. “Please let me come.”
Yunho hummed, tilting his head as if considering it. “I don’t know,” he said mockingly. “Have you really earned it?”
You bit your lip. “II’ll do anything.”
His eyes darkened with satisfaction.
“I know you will.”
Then without warning he turned the vibrator back on, cranking it up to the highest setting.
A sharp cry tore from your throat.
“Let’s see how long you last.”.
Your body trembled violently, your wrists still bound behind your back as the relentless vibrations drove you to the brink of insanity. Your thighs ached from how hard they trembled, your breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. You were so close so unbearably close.
And then he shut it off.
Again.
A strangled cry ripped from your throat, frustration coiling in your gut like a wildfire. “Fucking bastard”
The second the words left your lips, you regretted them.
Yunho went still.
The air in the room turned suffocating. Slowly, his fingers curled around your jaw, his grip tight. His eyes were unreadable, his mouth set in a hard line.
“What,” he said, voice deceptively calm, “the fuck did you just say?”
You barely had time to breathe before he moved.
In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, your bound wrists pressing against the cool wood beneath you. His movements were fast, effortless like he had been waiting for an excuse.
Your breath hitched as he leaned over you, his sheer size overwhelming. The harnesses strapped around his torso only accentuated how broad he was, how powerful. He made you feel small.
And he knew it.
“I let you run your mouth,” Yunho growled, his hand wrapping around your throat tight, firm enough to make you whimper. “I let you whine and beg.”
His free hand went to his belt, unbuckling it in one swift motion.
“But you just had to push me, didn’t you?”
You swallowed hard, heart hammering. His eyes burned into you, dark and unrelenting.
Yunho yanked his belt free, tossing it aside carelessly before popping the button of his pants. He didn’t even bother taking them offjust shoved the zipper down far enough to free himself.
His cock was already hard, thick, and leaking.
Your eyes widened at the sheer size.
He grinned. “Oh, now you’re quiet?”
Your thighs instinctively tried to clamp shut, but his hand was there gripping your inner thigh, forcing them apart.
“Don’t fucking hide from me now,” he muttered, dragging his cock along your soaked folds. “Not when you were so goddamn mouthy a second ago.”
A strangled moan left your lips as he teased you, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance but not pushing in.
It was pure torture.
You squirmed, tugging at your bound wrists. “Please”
Yunho laughed a low, dark sound.
“Please?” He mocked. “That’s funny.”
He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.
“Because just a second ago, you were calling me a fucking bastard.”
His fingers tightened around your throat as he snapped his hips forward.
A choked gasp tore from you as he filled you in one brutal thrust, stretching you open without warning.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Yunho sneered, his cock buried deep. His harnesses dug into his chest as he loomed over you, unrelenting. “To get ruined?”
Your walls fluttered around him, your body struggling to adjust to the sudden intrusion.
But Yunho had no patience left.
He didn’t wait.
He didn’t ease you into it.
He just fucked.
The desk beneath you creaked with every brutal thrust, the edge digging into your skin. His fingers never left your throat, his grip just tight enough to keep you trapped. His other hand gripped your thigh, keeping you spread wide open as he wrecked you.
Your moans turned into desperate, broken cries, the pleasure too much, too intense.
Yunho was feral, his hips slamming against yours, his cock filling you over and over with brutal precision.
“Bet you don’t have anything to fucking say now,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you don’t even remember what you called me.”
Your mind was gone spinning, drowning in sensation.
You couldn’t even breathe, let alone respond.
Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers sliding down to your clit. “That’s what I thought.”
Then, without warning he pressed the vibrator back against you.
A sharp scream ripped from your throat.
You were done for.
And Yunho didn’t stop.
Didn’t slow down.
If anything, the moment he pressed the vibrator back against you, he fucked you harder.
Your body convulsed, overstimulation hitting you like a truck. You sobbed desperately, overwhelmed, but Yunho was merciless.
“Feel that?” His voice was low, dangerous. “That’s what happens when you run your fucking mouth.”
Your vision blurred as pleasure ravaged you, his cock hitting deep with every brutal thrust. His fingers dug into your thigh, keeping you spread wide, giving you no escape.
The desk shook beneath you. His harnesses dug into his chest, highlighting every flex of his muscles as he ruined you.
Your throat ached from how hard you whimpered, your hands still bound behind your back. You had nowhere to go nothing to do but take it.
“Look at you,” Yunho murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “So fucking wrecked.”
His free hand reached to the side, grabbing something off the desk. You barely registered what it was until you heard the soft, unmistakable sound of a blade unsheathing.
Your breath hitched.
Yunho chuckled darkly, dragging the flat side of his knife along your trembling stomach.
“Mhm, that got your attention.”
You shuddered, nerves on fire. His pace never faltered, his cock still slamming into you, fucking you open with every thrust.
The blade trailed lower.
“Keep still.” His tone was sharp, commanding. “Unless you want me to slip.”
You whimpered.
Slowly, he pressed the cold edge against your thigh not enough to cut, just enough.
Enough to remind you who was in control.
“You’ve been such a fucking brat tonight.” His voice was pure sin. “Maybe I should leave you a little something to remember who you belong to.”
The blade pressed just a bit harder.
Your entire body tensed.
“You’d look so fucking pretty marked up,” Yunho murmured, watching the way you trembled beneath him.
Your walls clenched tight around him.
Yunho groaned, his hand gripping your throat as he snapped his hips forward. “Oh, you like that?”
You moaned a choked, desperate sound.
He laughed.
“You’re fucking unreal.”
The blade dragged up your stomach, up to your chest, circling your collarbone. Yunho’s eyes devoured the sight of you, your flushed skin, your tear-streaked face, your trembling form beneath him.
Then, with no warning, he bit down on your throat.
Hard.
A sharp cry tore from your lips, the pain blooming into something deep and overwhelming.
Yunho groaned against your skin, his hips stuttering for the first time. “Fuck.”
His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make you dizzy.
“You love when I ruin you.”
His thrusts turned ruthless, merciless, fucking you into oblivion as the blade traced the curve of your breast.
“You’re mine,” Yunho growled. “And I’m gonna make sure you never forget it.”
Your scream cracked in your throat, raw, high-pitched, your body twitching with every brutal thrust.
But Yunho didn’t let up. Didn’t ease.
He was relentless.
His cock slammed into you again and again, forcing you forward over the desk, your bound hands useless behind your back. You were shaking, drenched, aching, overstimulated to the edge of blacking out and he was still fucking you like he hated you.
"Open your fucking eyes."
You tried. Failed.
A sharp slap to your cheek jolted you back, and his hand gripped your jaw tight.
“I said look at me. You don’t get to hide from this.”
You blinked up through wet lashes, wrecked and broken apart.
Yunho was watching you like a predator. His mouth curled into something wicked, feral, as he reached to the desk and pulled the knife again.
“Color.”
You sobbed out, “Green… green, Yunho, please”
“Good,” he hissed. “Now shut the fuck up and take it.”
The flat of the blade slapped against your thigh.
Then, sting.
He cut.
A shallow, clean slice, right across your upper thigh, red blooming instantly, a bright warning, a claim.
You choked out a cry, pain, pleasure, terror mixing like poison in your veins and Yunho moaned like he’d just tasted heaven.
“That’s right. That’s mine now.”
He fucked into you harder, slamming you down against the desk so you bounced with each thrust, your skin slick with sweat and arousal, the room echoing with your gasps and the sound of skin pounding skin.
“You wanna act like a brat?” he snarled. “Then I’ll ruin you like one.”
The blade dragged up your belly. Cold. Sharp. Tempting.
He stopped just beneath your breast. The edge bit down again.
Another mark.
You screamed, legs buckling.
He caught you, one hand on your throat now, squeezing just enough to make your world narrow.
“Color,” he demanded again, voice almost desperate with need.
“Green, green… fuck, don’t stop”
Yunho’s eyes burned.
He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear. “Then I’m carving my name into you.”
The knife traced your collarbone. Your breath hitched frozen, trembling.
He cut again.
Not deep but deliberate.
You felt it. You felt everything.
Your orgasm slammed into you without warning violent, white-hot, a full-body convulsion that tore a scream from your lungs.
Yunho didn’t stop.
He grunted, pace turning animalistic, fucking you through it with savage, punishing thrusts as you shook beneath him.
"You fucking come from being cut, huh?” he growled. “You want everyone to see you like this ruined, dripping, marked the fuck up and leaking my cum down your thighs.”
You sobbed.
He grinned, something vicious.
Then he grabbed your hair, yanked your head back, and bit down hard on your throat, his teeth sinking in until you wailed.
“Say it,” he growled against your skin. “Say who you belong to.”
“You, you, Yunho!”
“That’s fucking right.”
He slammed into you one more time, deep, rough, brutal and stayed there, buried to the hilt as he came, his hand still around your throat, his name carved into your skin.
You barely registered the way he collapsed against you, panting, the knife clattering to the side.
Your vision blurred. Your body was a mess. Your soul was somewhere far, far away.
But you’d never felt more owned.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t need to.
Yunho lifted you off the desk like you weighed nothing, your legs still shaking from the last orgasm he ripped out of you. His grip was iron. Possessive. Like he was afraid you’d slip away before he finished what he started.
But he wasn’t done with you.
Not even close.
He kicked the dorm door shut behind him with one boot and threw you down on his bed face first. The coolness of his sheets brushed your cheek, but before you could even breathe, his hands were on your back, holding you down.
“You’re not moving,” he growled. “Not an inch. You want to be mine? Then stay still and take it.”
The restraints came next, he kept them under his pillow. Black, thick, unforgiving.
Your wrists were the first to go pulled up, crossed, and strapped to the headboard above you.
Then your ankles.
Forced apart. Spread wide and bound to the bedposts, legs splayed so far you could barely twitch without exposing every inch of yourself.
Face down. Ass up. Totally helpless.
A moan slipped out of you, raw, needy.
Yunho chuckled darkly behind you. “You love being fucked like this, don’t you?”
You whimpered.
“Color,” he said, suddenly sharp.
“Green,” you gasped. “So fucking green.”
His reply was a low, guttural sound something between a growl and a groan. Then the mattress shifted as he climbed on, straddling the backs of your thighs.
And then came the blade.
Cold. Beautiful.
He dragged the flat of it along your spine, up to your shoulder blades, then down slow and deliberate, tracing every curve. You shivered, arching slightly in your binds, trying to chase the blade like a lover.
“Look at you,” he whispered, admiring. “Tied up. Bleeding. Open. And still aching for more.”
Then, softly: “You want my name on you?”
“Yes,” you breathed. “Please put it on me. Claim me.”
Yunho leaned down. You felt his breath first, hot against your lower backthen the point of the knife.
Right above the swell of your ass.
His name.
He carved it.
Y-U-N-H-O.
The pain bloomed sharp and blinding, thin lines of fire across your skin and you screamed into the sheets, your body twitching in the restraints. You couldn't move. Couldn’t escape but you didn’t want to.
You wanted this.
You wanted him.
And he knew it.
“That’s it,” he rasped, staring at the blood welling from the letters. “You’re mine now.”
He licked it.
Tongue slow, reverent, dragging over the fresh cuts like a fucking blessing. He groaned as he tasted you, hips grinding against the backs of your thighs. You felt the weight of his cock, hard, heavy pressing into your skin, throbbing.
Then he pulled back. You couldn’t see him but you could hear it.
The wet sounds of him stroking his cock behind you fast, desperate, obsessed.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You tried to move, wanted to push back into him but the restraints held you down. All you could do was moan.
“Look at you,” Yunho snarled. “Tied up. Cut. Bleeding. Still begging for me.”
Then he grabbed your hips, lined himself up
And slammed into you.
The force knocked the breath out of you. His cock filled you deep in one brutal thrust, making your vision go white.
You screamed and he didn’t stop.
Yunho fucked you hard, deep, merciless. the bed slamming against the wall with every thrust, your body shoved forward, only to be yanked back by the tight restraints.
You were shaking, drooling, ruined and he hadn’t even finished.
“Fucking take it,” he grunted, voice feral. “You wanted to be mine, huh?”
You clenched around him. Cried out.
Yunho hissed, then leaned down and bit your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise.
“I want it leaking out of you,” he snarled. “I want you walking around tomorrow with my cum dripping down your thighs and my name carved into your fucking skin.”
Your orgasm ripped through you violent, brutal, endless.
And Yunho wasn’t far behind.
He drove in one last time, burying himself as deep as he could and came, cock twitching, load spilling inside you as he groaned your name into your neck.
You were shaking beneath him, body used, wrecked, owned.
And Yunho just laid there.
Breathing hard. Covered in sweat. His cock still buried in you. His name still bleeding above your ass.
The ropes creaked as Yunho untied you slowly, deliberately, like each knot was a privilege to undo. Your limbs trembled from restraint, skin raw from rope-burn and blade, but the second he flipped you onto your back, you knew it wasn’t mercy.
It was a reset.
A new game.
Your wrists barely hit the sheets before he pinned them again this time with his hands, wrists shoved over your head, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His eyes devoured you, bloodied, marked, glowing with sweat and surrender.
And he smiled like he’d never seen anything so perfect.
“You’re not done,” he whispered, breath hot against your throat. “You don’t get to be done. Not until I say so.”
Then he slid inside you again.
Slow, controlled.
But deep.
So deep you gasped.
Missionary wasn’t gentle. Not with him. Not like this. Not when his name was still bleeding above the curve of your spine. Not when his hips ground into yours with an ache that felt more like branding than fucking.
His hands pinned your wrists. His mouth claimed your neck. His body owned you.
But his eyes, his eyes never left your face.
"You're gonna take every drop of this," Yunho rasped, cock driving deeper, "and you're gonna thank me for filling you up."
Your legs wrapped around him instinctively pulling him closer, grounding yourself against the force of every brutal thrust. You could feel how close he was. The way his breath caught. The way his rhythm started to unravel.
And then
You shattered.
Tightened around him, body convulsing as your climax dragged him down with you. He groaned, buried to the hilt, and spilled himself inside you with a growl that sounded like a promise.
Like a claim.
But Yunho didn’t move.
Not at first.
Instead, he watched the way your chest rose and fell beneath him. Watched the sweat and blood and come drip down your thighs.
Then he pulled out slow, deliberate and dragged two fingers between your legs, scooping up the thick mix of your pleasure and his. The evidence of your ruin.
You whimpered, overstimulated, but he only smiled.
And then he fed it to you.
Pressed his fingers against your lips.
“Open.”
You obeyed.
You always obeyed.
He pushed the mess into your mouth, slow and deep, rubbing it across your tongue as he whispered:
“Only good sluts get filled.”
His fingers smeared what was left across your lips, your cheek, your chest, marking you again, not with a blade this time, but with the aftermath. With the filth of your shared pleasure.
You were trembling.
Used.
Loved.
Owned.
And Yunho, still hovering over you, smiled like he could tear the world apart just to see you like this again.
-
You don’t remember the exact moment it shifted.
One breath, you were pinned and filled and marked, his body over yours, cock still twitching with the last pulses of release. The next, he was easing off of you with a care that felt almost unreal after what he’d just done.
Yunho moved slowly.
Like you might break.
His fingers, those same fingers that had just shoved your own cum into your mouth, now brushed hair from your eyes. They shook, just a little, as he unfastened the last loop of leather from your wrist.
“You still with me?” he asked, voice rough around the edges.
You blinked, nodded, your throat dry and aching. “Yeah.”
“Color?”
You smiled, lips sticky. “Still not red.”
He huffed something between a scoff and a laugh as he reached for a warm towel, already prepped on the nightstand. Of course he’d planned ahead.
“Cocky little brat,” he muttered, kneeling between your thighs. “Next time, I’m gonna make you say it.”
“Promise?” you whispered, dazed but defiant.
He looked up at you, lips twitching. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not a promise. That’s a threat.”
You winced slightly as he dabbed at the cuts on your thigh, his thumb gentle as he steadied your leg. The blood was already drying at the edges, but he cleaned every one. Your stomach. Your collarbone. The mark above your ass, his name, still fresh and angry-looking.
He lingered there.
Fingertips brushing your skin, slow. “Too much?”
“No,” you said softly. “Not even close.”
He leaned forward, kissed the raw skin just above the mark. Then he whispered against your back:
“You’re insane.”
“Mm. You like it.”
He exhaled sharply. “You have no idea.”
With the cuts cleaned, he pulled the covers over both of you, pulling your body into his. His arm wrapped around your waist, and his face tucked into the crook of your neck.
No restraint.
No commands.
Just warmth.
You felt the rise and fall of his chest behind you, felt the scrape of his still-rough voice as he murmured, almost too low to hear:
“You ever use that safe word…”
A pause.
“I’ll stop. Instantly.”
You reached for his hand beneath the blankets, fingers lacing through his. “I know.”
He kissed your shoulder, just above one of the healing cuts.
