welcome to my mind

kpop multistan, smut reader, imagines writer

[extra-gray]

I would be SPREAD the fuck out for Woozi oh my god I’m so feral for him lately with his buzzed hair and big arms like Jesus Christ my pussy is ACHING.

Jihoon would be the type to fuck you from behind and pull you up against his chest, wrap his arm around your neck and say “Bite it, baby.”

He’d fuck you harder as you bite down on his bicep, moaning and drooling and tasting his skin. His other hand is sliding down the front of your body— groping everything he can. Your chest, your stomach, your hips. And the way his fingertips tickle you on the way down to your clit… lord have mercy. He’s the type to wish he was quiet during sex, as shy as he can be. But no. When he’s balls deep inside you like this, he’s a mess. Moaning, whimpering, gasping. And he always has something to say. Loves talking you through it.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He groans directly in your ear, “You’re ruining me too, baby. I can’t take it.”

Would struggle not to cum the second he gets inside. You just feel so perfect, molded deliciously to his shape. And with how skilled he is, knowing every little thing that makes you clench around his cock, he does it to himself. He knows it. But he can’t stop. He has the self control of a god. He puts you first. Gives you all the dick you want and more before he even thinks about stopping. Even if he cums. Taking big, deep breaths as he releases inside you— trying to hold it together— because he doesn’t slow down at all. He keeps fucking you like he’s not twitching like crazy from the overstimulation. The noises he makes are so good that you really lose yourself here. He gets quiet as he cums, biting on his lip to endure the painful pleasure… and then he’s moaning through clenched teeth, trying to get you off just one more time before pulling out. He’d end up cumming again, with you. And you’d both be spent.

[themaddiehouse]

I’ve built this tumblr brick by brick and I’m not sorry anymore. Fuck.

[dakusan-deactivated20250804]

R a i l w a y W r e c k a g e

Han Jisung x Reader | Performance. Tease. Fishnets. And a Dom who can’t hold back.

🔞 synopsis: He drove you insane on stage: mic grip, shirt lift, tattoo flash, eyes locked on you like he owned you. So you came prepared. Back at his place, the Railway instrumental plays, your dress slides off slow, fishnets clinging to your thighs, red lace made to ruin him. You tease. He snaps. Tights ripped. Fingers buried deep. His mouth everywhere. You cum on his hand, cock-drunk before he even gives you his cock. Then he fucks you dumb—rough, messy, moaning into your neck, calling you his “perfect girl” as you squeeze him until he breaks.

💌a/n: THIS WON AND I’M STILL SCREAMING ABOUT IT. honestly??? i didn’t think y’all would choose feral Railway Han but here we are. me, sitting here, completely unwell, writing about fishnets, red lace, and a man who whines while fucking you stupid. i had to stop like three times to breathe. i hope this wrecks you. i hope your panties combust. if it doesn’t… idk, go look at Han’s Railway performance again and COME BACK. p.s. reblog, scream in the tags, throw me in the pit p.p.s. this was initially requested by @hanjiswvrld , but i was indecisive so i made the poll... it won anyways, yay p.p.p.s. randoms who find this? welcome to sweet hell.

⚠️warnings: NSFW | 18+ ONLY — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | Post-performance Han Jisung, Dom!Han energy | Strip tease / lap dance tease | Bratty reader, teasing, Han snapping | Tights ripped, lingerie worship, groping | Hickeys/marking | Finger-fucking, clit rubbing, reader orgasms on his hand | Cock-dumbification, reader babbling & begging | Rough pace, deep hard thrusts, praise + degradation dirty talk | Han whining & moaning into reader’s neck (vocal, desperate) | Creampie, breeding kink (wrap it up sluts) | Soft, funny aftercare

📌 Hydrate, babes. Breathe. He moans. You drool. Fishnets will be ruined. Encore optional.

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

The bass thudded through your chest, the lights slicing through the dark venue like a heartbeat, and there he was. Han Jisung. God, you’d seen him perform hundreds of times, but tonight? Railway wasn’t just a song, it was a slow-burn confession, every note heavy with something unspoken.

He was a vision under the low lights: white shirt clinging to him in all the right ways, hair messy from running his fingers through it, veins flexing as he gripped the mic like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the stage. And then, that move. The teasing lift of his shirt, casual but calculated, just enough for the crowd to lose its mind. A flash of toned abs, a peek of that ink curling along his side.

And you? You froze. Because you knew he did it on purpose.

By the time he finished, sweat dripping down his neck, mic hanging loose in his grip, your thighs were pressed together, fingers clenched in your lap.

He knew. The bastard knew what he was doing to you.

The car ride back was quiet, almost too quiet. He kept stealing glances at you, smirking like he was waiting for you to admit something. But you didn’t.

Not when you walked into his apartment, not when he tossed his jacket onto the couch and disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Now he’s back—sweatpants, damp hair, shirtless.

He collapses onto the couch, running a hand through his hair, his grin lazy, cocky: “You’re awfully quiet tonight. What, cat got your tongue?”

You hum, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. “Just thinking.”

He quirks a brow. “About?”

You let your gaze drag down his chest, slow, on purpose, until his smirk falters just slightly. “About how good you looked tonight. But… I think I can do it better.”

The room goes still. His head tilts, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Oh, really?”

Unlike him, you hadn't changed from your clothes. No. Which made Jisung's attention to glue on your legs. The fishnet tights you wore accompanied with the silky dress. His jaw tightens almost instantly and you stop just in front of him, bending a little so your perfume hits him full force.

Sweet, dark, expensive.

“Mmhm,” you hum, voice syrupy, tilting your head with a mock-innocent smile. “I can perform it better. Thought I’d make you a little surprise tonight.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Surprise, huh? And what kind of surprise are we talking about baby?”

You let out the softest laugh, leaning closer until your lips nearly brush his ear. “Thankfully… I asked Chan for the instrumental. Figured if you could drive me insane on stage, I should return the favour.”

You pull back just in time to catch that flicker of heat in his eyes, the one that betrays how tightly wound he really is under that lazy grin.

“Go on, then,” he murmurs, leaning back on the couch, spreading his legs wider in that cocky way of his, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

You smile sweetly. “Gladly.”

The soft hum of Railway instrumental fills the apartment as you saunter to the speaker. The moment the opening beat hits, you turn back to him, slow, letting the music guide you. You sway your hips lazily, hands trailing down your sides as you make your way closer, closer, until you’re standing between his legs. His eyes are locked on you, hungry, dark, tracking every move.

You slide your fingers up the straps of your silky dress, teasing, adjusting them but not pulling them down yet.

“Don’t rush,” you purr, voice just loud enough to be heard over the beat. “Enjoy the show.”

You take a step back, giving yourself space to move. One slow roll of your hips. Then another. The silky fabric of your dress clings to you with every turn.

Then—finally—you tug one strap down. The other. Slow and torturous. The top of your dress slips, revealing the first glimpse of the red lace lingerie beneath.

Jisung’s jaw flexes, his hands gripping his knees. “Fucking hell…” he mutters under his breath.

You tilt your head, mock-innocent. “Something wrong, Ji? You look… tense.” You turn around slowly, giving him your back, swaying your hips in time with the music. Your fingers toy with the hem of your dress, bunching it slightly, showing just enough of your fishnet-clad thighs to make him groan low in his throat.

Then, in one slow, teasing motion, you start sliding the dress down your hips. Silk whispers against your skin, pooling at your feet. You step out of it carefully, one heel, then the other, before turning back to face him in nothing but those fishnets and the sinful red lace.

You place a hand on your hip, smirking. “Still with me, baby? Or do I need to go slower?”

He laughs, sharp and breathless, leaning back against the couch, sweatpants already tented. His fingers flex against his thighs like he’s fighting to stay put.

“You’re really playing with fire, baby,” he warns, voice deeper now, dripping with restraint.

You strut closer, stopping just out of reach, biting your lip as you drag your fingers slowly down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your tights.

“Maybe,” you whisper, swaying your hips one more time. “But isn’t that what you wanted? Me dripping for you in the crowd, imagining this… every time you lifted that shirt?”

The vein in his neck ticks. His knuckles whiten as he grips the couch. “Take the tights off,” he growls suddenly.

You raise a brow, smiling sweetly. “Mmm, no. Not yet.” Your voice drips with sweetness, and the smirk you give him is pure challenge.

Jisung's jaw clenches. His knuckles are white against his thighs, sweatpants already tented and straining, and you can see the vein in his neck pulse harder. “Baby…” His tone drops low, warning, but there’s a whine buried under it.

You just smile and start moving again. Turning your back at him once more, swaying your hips to the rhythm of Railway's Instrumental. Every roll of your hips is slow and teasing. And then you hook your thumbs under the waistband of your tights, tugging them down just slightly before letting them snap back into place.

His groan is low.

“Fucking hell, you’re killing me,” he mutters, head dropping back against the couch for a second before he jerks his gaze right back to you, hungry, desperate.

You hum, dragging your fingers down your thighs, your voice taunting: “I thought you liked watching.” You finally face him again, stepping between his spread legs, standing close enough that your perfume wraps around him, sweet and intoxicating.

Your fingers slowly—agonizingly slowly—push the tights a little lower on your hips, revealing more of that red lace underneath.

You lean down just slightly, meeting his eyes, and whisper, “Should I keep going, or…?”

That’s it.

SNAP.

Jisung's patience shatters in an instant. His hands shoot out, grabbing your hips, yanking you forward with zero warning. You gasp, stumbling slightly as he drags you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him.

“Enough,” he growls against your ear, voice low, rough, his breath hot on your neck. His cock, already hard and straining against his sweatpants, presses against your inner thigh.

“You think you can torture me with that damn song?” His hands are gripping your ass, pulling you flush against him, grinding you down over his cock. “Cute. Real fucking cute.”

You grin, breathless, bracing your hands against his chest. “Worked, didn’t it?”

He lets out a sharp laugh, dark and frustrated. His hips snap upward once, hard enough to make you gasp. “Yeah, it worked,” he mutters, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin. “Worked too fucking well.”

His fingers dig into the waistband of your tights, tugging sharply.

“These—” he tugs again, rougher, “—are coming off. Now.”

You smirk, still playing brat, rolling your hips slowly against him instead of helping. “Why don’t you make me, Han?”

His head snaps up at that, eyes dark, feral.

“Oh, you’re so fucked.”

And with that, he flips you under him in one fluid motion, your back hitting the couch cushions as he pins you there, hovering over you, his hard cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats. Before you can even respond, you hear it—the tearing sound.

RIIIP.

Your breath catches as Jisung shreds your tights with his bare hands, ripping them apart like they were nothing. The fabric gives way in jagged edges, his fingers rough and impatient as he yanks the ruined pieces down your legs.

“Jisung!” you gasp, half-scolding, half-turned-on beyond belief.

“Don’t act like you care,” he mutters darkly, tossing the torn tights somewhere on the floor. His eyes drag down your now-bare legs, drinking you in, a grin making his way to his face. That grin. Wicked. Hungry.

“Besides,” he says, voice dipping low as his hands slide back up your thighs, “this...” his thumbs brush the red lace of your lingerie, “...is staying on. Too fucking pretty to take off.” His palms travel up your sides, groping your tits through the lace, fingers squeezing, thumbs brushing over the material where your nipples are.

“Fuck, Ji—”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groans, his forehead dropping to your collarbone for a second before he nuzzles into your neck, breath hot and ragged.

Then his mouth is on you. Hot, open-mouthed kisses drag along your throat, licking, sucking, teeth grazing just enough to leave marks. His groans vibrate against your skin, low and needy. “You smell… fuck, you smell so good,” he murmurs between kisses, the perfume intoxicating him. “Sweet, expensive… tastes better though.”

His tongue flicks over the sensitive spot beneath your jaw, and you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes blown wide with heat, hair falling messily into his face. “You wore this for me, didn’t you?” His hands squeeze your tits again, harder this time, his hips grinding down against you, his cock pressing into the lace covering your core.

You smirk up at him, breathless but cocky. “Maybe I did.”

Han’s laugh is dark, sharp, and you barely have time to react before his hand shoots up to grip your face, squishing your cheeks together so you can’t talk back. “Don’t ‘maybe’ me, baby,” he says, leaning closer, his nose brushing yours, his eyes burning into you. “You fucking knew. You knew this would drive me insane, didn’t you?”

Your answer comes out muffled against his grip, but the sly glint in your eyes gives you away.

“Yeah,” he growls, voice breaking slightly as he grinds down against you, his hard cock dragging against your soaked lace. “Yeah, you fucking knew.”

Then his mouth crashes onto yours, hot and demanding. The kiss is messy, wet, teeth clashing, tongues sliding together as his hips rut against you. Every thrust of his hips presses his cock harder against your core, and you can feel how desperate he is through the thin fabric, his sweatpants brushing against your inner thighs with every movement. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound greedily, groaning back, his hand still gripping your face as if he refuses to let you pull away.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants against your lips between kisses, his thrusts growing harder, faster, the friction building unbearably. “All wet for me already, baby? Just from teasing me?”

You manage to pull back slightly, smirking despite how breathless you are. “Guess you’re not the only one who can put on a good performance, Ji.”

He lets out a dark laugh, his forehead pressing to yours, his grin so cocky you want to slap him but then his hips snap forward sharply, making you gasp.

“Performance, huh?” he mutters, his voice low and wrecked as his free hand slides down your stomach, teasing the waistband of your lace. “Then let’s make this a fucking encore.”

Before you can even respond, his hand is already between your thighs, pushing that delicate red lace aside with zero hesitation. His fingers brush your soaked folds, and he lets out a low, broken laugh. “Fuck, baby…” his grin is cocky, but his voice cracks slightly as he slides two fingers through your wetness. “You’re drenched. All this just for me? Just from grinding on my cock like a desperate little thing?”

You bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of answering, which only makes his grin widen. His fingers, two of them suddenly push into your wet cunt, deep and fast, curling perfectly to hit that spot that he knows will make you see stars.

You moan at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at that exact spot. Jisung meanwhile leans down lips latching onto your neck, sucking hard until he can see a purple mark forming. His tongue drags along your collarbone, and then he’s leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down to the tops of your tits.

When his teeth graze the soft skin just above the lace, you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.

He pulls back just enough to smirk against your skin. “Gotta leave my marks, baby. Gotta let everyone know who fucking wrecked you like this.”

Then he’s back at it, sucking bruises into your tits, licking and nipping at the lace-covered curves like he’s obsessed, his groans vibrating against you.

“Fuck, these?” he uses his free hand to squeeze roughly, licking over one nipple through the lace, “These are mine. All mine. Can’t get enough of them.”

His fingers pump into you harder now, faster, the wet sounds mixing with the soft instrumental still playing in the background.

You gasp, back arching, and he growls against your chest, looking up at you through messy strands of hair, eyes blown wide with heat. “You hear that, baby?” His fingers curl just right, making you whimper. “You’re fucking dripping for me. Beg for it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

You shake your head stubbornly, biting your lip to hold back a moan, and his grin sharpens, wicked.

“Still playing brat, huh?” His thumb presses against your clit suddenly, circling tight, fast, relentless. “Fine. I’ll make you beg.”

You gasp, hips bucking, and he laughs low against your chest.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters against your skin, his voice wrecked but teasing. “You can’t even keep still. Look at you squirming, soaking my fingers like you were made for this.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moans, and that only pisses him off more.

“Don’t hold back on me, baby.” His free hand comes up to grip your jaw, forcing your face toward him, his fingers squishing your cheeks. His eyes burn into yours as his fingers thrust deeper, faster inside you. “I wanna hear you. Be a good girl and let me hear how fucking good I make you feel.”

You try to hold it back, biting your lip, but his thumb presses harder, rubbing tight, fast circles, and your moans finally spill out—loud, broken.

“Fuck, Ji, baby, please!”

“That’s it,” he mutters, a low groan leaving his throat as he watches you squirm, hips jerking against his hand. “That’s my good girl. Look at you, dripping all over my fingers… You love it, don’t you? Love how I fuck you open like this?”

Your head falls back, your hands gripping his shoulders so tight your nails dig into his skin.

His pace gets rougher, desperate, his fingers pounding into you, thumb never leaving your clit. Every thrust pushes you closer, the coil in your stomach tightening until you can barely breathe.

“Ji—shit—”

“Say it,” he demands, his tone sharp, almost desperate. “Say how good it feels. Say you’re gonna cum for me.”

“Feels—fuck—it feels so good,” you gasp, body trembling, “Jisung,... I...”

“Cum,” he orders, his voice low, dark, almost a growl. His thumb presses harder, faster, his fingers curling just right. “Cum for me right now, baby. Make a mess all over my fucking hand.”

You break. Your body arches, legs trembling, as you cum hard around his fingers, your moans spilling out uncontrollably. “Fuck, that’s it,” Han groans, watching your face like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. “So pretty when you fall apart for me. Fucking perfect.” He doesn’t stop right away, his fingers slowing but still moving, riding you through the aftershocks until you’re panting, shaky under him. When he finally pulls his fingers out, they’re glistening, dripping, and he holds them up, grinning wickedly.

“Open,” he orders, voice wrecked.

You do, and he slides his slick-coated fingers into your mouth, watching intently as you suck them clean.

“God, you’re perfect.” he mutters, his cock twitching against your thigh, already painfully hard. He pulls his fingers free, wiping the last of your slick on your thigh before grabbing the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down impatiently. His cock springs free, flushed red at the tip, veins running along the shaft, already leaking pre-cum.

You can’t help the little gasp that escapes you, and he grins, feral, stroking himself slowly as he hovers over you. “Like what you see, baby?” he teases, his voice rough, already breathless.

You bite your lip, nodding, and that grin of his sharpens.

“Yeah, you do,” he mutters, leaning closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “And you’re gonna take every fucking inch of it.”

But instead of thrusting in, he presses the thick head of his cock against your soaked folds, dragging it slowly through your wetness, coating himself in you. The friction makes you whimper, hips twitching up to chase him, but he just laughs low in his throat.

“Needy little thing,” he taunts, dragging his cock up and down your slit again, tapping your clit lightly with his tip, making you jolt. “So wet and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, but he doesn’t push in—he just keeps gliding his cock through your slick folds, teasing your entrance, sliding back to your clit over and over.

“Jisung, please,” you whimper, voice breaking.

He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder for a moment, his cock twitching against you as he keeps moving.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, his tone cracking, his own control slipping. “You feel so good already. You’re so fucking wet—shit—” The wet drag of his cock against you makes obscene sounds, and the way his jaw clenches, the way his breath stutters, it’s clear he’s just as ruined as you.

“Fuck, I can feel how warm you are,” he groans, dragging his cockhead back to your entrance, pushing just the tip in before pulling back out, teasing. “Gonna take me so well, aren’t you? Gonna let me fuck you stupid on this couch?”

You whimper, hips jerking, and his cock throbs, twitching against you again. He lets out a low, guttural moan, forehead pressing to yours as his restraint slips another inch. “Shit, baby, I can’t, fuck, I can’t tease you anymore. You’re too fucking perfect.”

And he finally, finally, grips your hips tight, lining himself up and slamming into you in one deep, hard thrust. Your moan rips out of you, loud and unrestrained. But Jisung? Jisung groans so loud it’s almost a whimper, his head dropping to the crook of your neck, his breath hot and shaky against your skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters, his voice wrecked, hips pressed flush against yours, unmoving for a second as he tries to catch his breath. “Shit, baby… you’re so warm—fuck—you feel so fucking good.”

You clench around him involuntarily, and his groan turns into a broken moan, his fingers digging bruises into your hips.

“Shit—don’t—fuck, don’t do that yet,” he breathes, his forehead pressed to your collarbone as his cock twitches inside you. “You’re so fucking tight, baby… God, you’re perfect.”

Finally, he pulls back just an inch, his cock dragging against your walls, before slamming back in, harder this time. You cry out, your head tipping back.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters, his voice low, breathless, already losing control as his hips snap against yours. “You’re taking me so well. Fuck, your pussy’s so good, so fucking wet and tight for me.” His pace quickens, the sound of skin against skin mixing with your gasps and his broken moans. He presses his forehead to yours for a moment, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide as he watches your face.

“You feel that, baby? Feel how deep I am?” His hips grind forward, hitting just the right spot, making you whimper louder. “Fuck yeah, you do. Look at you, falling apart already, and I’ve barely even started.”

Jisung leans down, kissing you messily, his moans spilling into your mouth as he thrusts faster, rougher, the couch creaking under the rhythm. When he pulls back, his grin is cocky, feral, but his voice is wrecked, desperate. “God, you’re perfect. You were made for me—fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Gonna make me lose my fucking mind.”

His tattooed side presses against your thigh now as he changes his angle slightly, pounding into you harder, deeper, his breath hot against your neck as he groans with every thrust. “Say it,” he pants, his hips slamming into yours, your body jolting with every move. “Say how good I feel. Tell me you love it, tell me you love my cock fucking you like this.”

You can barely breathe, your words tumbling out in broken moans, already cock-drunk and gone.

“F–fuck, Ji, so good, feels so good...”

His grin sharpens, but his own voice cracks, his breath coming in ragged pants against your ear.

“Yeah? Fuck, yeah, you love it. Look at you, bab, you’re so fucking gone for me, aren’t you?” His thrusts get harder, deeper, each one making your back arch off the couch.

“Y–yes, yes, yes.” You’re babbling now, barely forming words, and it makes his cock twitch inside you, his groan wrecked.

“Shit, baby,” he moans, his forehead dropping to your neck as his pace grows brutal, relentless. “You’re so tight, you’re milking me, fuck—” He’s not quiet anymore. Every thrust rips a moan or a whimper out of him, his breaths coming fast and shallow, hot against your skin. “God, you’re perfect,” he pants, his voice breaking as his hips slam into yours, harder, deeper. “Your pussy, oh my god, it feels so good, I can’t, shit, baby, I can’t slow down.”

The way his cock drags perfectly against that spot inside you makes your moans turn into broken, needy cries, your nails scratching down his back.

You’re barely coherent now, words spilling out mindlessly: “Baby, please, so deep, feels so good.”

And he’s loving it. His cock twitches again, his grin wild as he growls against your ear, his voice high and wrecked from how tight you are around him: “Yeah, you can’t, huh? You’re so fucking cock-drunk already. Look at you, so dumb for me, baby. My perfect girl.”

He's pounding into you so deep you see stars. “My pretty girl is taking me so well. Look at that, I’m so deep in you,” he groans, his moans getting louder with every thrust. Your walls tighten around him again, and he feels it instantly, his moan breaking into something almost desperate.

“Fuck baby, if you keep squeezing me like that I’m not gonna last long.”

His thrusts get sloppier, faster, his breathing loud and uneven.

Your head tips back, eyes rolling, words spilling out broken and incoherent. “Ji—please—so close—I can’t—”

His hand slides up to grip your jaw again, forcing you to look at him even as you’re falling apart. His own face is flushed, sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his mouth hanging open as he pants through his thrusts.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock like the perfect little slut you are?”

You whimper, nodding frantically, your nails dragging down his back, leaving red streaks.

“Do it.” he growls, his voice cracking, his thrusts hitting harder, deeper, desperate now. The coil in your stomach snaps and you shatter around him, your walls clenching tight, your body arching up into his.

“FUCK! Jisung—!” you cry, your moans loud and broken, tears pricking your eyes from how intense it is.

Han lets out a loud whimper, nuzzling into your neck as his hips keep slamming into you. “Shit, baby, fuck—you’re squeezing me so good—oh, fuck, I can feel you—shit, you’re perfect—”

You’re trembling under him, cock-drunk and gone, your pussy pulsing around him with every wave of pleasure, and he doesn’t stop—he fucks you through it, relentless, making you ride it out until you’re gasping, twitching under him.

Your tightness milking him pushes him right to the edge. His thrusts turn sloppy, desperate, his moans louder now, wrecked and uncontrolled.

“Baby, fuck, I’m—aah—I’m gonna cum!”

He lifts his head, kissing you messily, his tongue desperate against yours as his hips slam into you a few more times before he breaks completely, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a loud, broken moan. “Fuuuck.” His voice cracks, his forehead pressed to yours as he pants through it, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you, his hips still jerking shallowly, like he can’t stop.

He stays there for a moment, both of you gasping, sweaty, bodies trembling. When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse, soft but still cocky: “Encore, huh?” He grins weakly, panting. “Baby, I think we just broke the fucking sound system.”

You let out a weak laugh, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “Pretty sure we broke your couch too.” Jisung pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes still glassy from the high, hair sticking to his forehead. Then he grins. That ridiculous, boyish grin that makes your chest warm.

“Worth it.”

He slowly pulls out, both of you wincing at the oversensitivity, and he groans quietly as he leans back on his knees, still panting. “Shit, baby, you’re… fuck, you’re a mess.”

You shoot him a look, breathless but amused. “I’m a mess? You were whining in my ear like—”

“I did not whine,” he interrupts immediately, his ears turning red as he scrambles for a throw pillow to playfully shove at your stomach.

You grin, smug. “You so did.”

Jisung groans dramatically, flopping down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his chest, arms wrapping around you tightly, one hand stroking your hair as he kisses your forehead, softer now. “You’re insane,” he murmurs against your temple, smiling softly. “Driving me nuts on purpose, wearing that? Dancing to that song? You’re lucky I love you or I’d… I dunno… lock you in here so you can never tease me in public again.”

You snort, nuzzling into his chest. “You’d love that.”

“...Okay, yeah, maybe I would,” he admits with a soft laugh, kissing the top of your head.

But just when you think he’s finally winding down, he pulls back slightly, his grin returning, mischievous. “So…” he starts, his tone way too casual.

You narrow your eyes. “So…?”

“Round two?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows, clearly joking but also not joking.

You groan, smacking his chest playfully. “Jisung, I can barely move.”

“True,” he laughs, leaning back against the couch, eyes half-lidded, cheeks still flushed. “But, like… after five minutes? Maybe ten? I’m just saying.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of you, leaning back into his chest. “God, you’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he murmurs, kissing your temple again, softer this time, his voice dropping into something sweet and honest.

“Yeah,” you admit quietly, smiling against his skin. “I do.”

🏷️ taglist: @cybergracie , @jupitermarss , @basicginn , @dhvnigvil , @emkvlixsx , @collin-thegreat , @somuchpanicverylittledisco , @emilyywhyy , @rainyjeno , @fawnoverdawn , @pixie-felix , @anniestay , @notmeneo , @lovslixx , @themoonlightfae , @heartwithoutaname , @yourghostneighbor , @princesskrystix , @drilles , @y2kur0mi , @mochi-space , @ivaviavi , @phelans-thoughts , @the-anon-reader , @beans4beans56 , @joyfulchaoslover , @channieismylove , @cherryoatchai , @unimportantweirdo , @seagulljk , @freckles-and-rage , @lonelydarknessblog , @girlsymptoms , @bookswillfindyouaway , @jasperlvskz , @geekymommakerry , @dazzlingjade , @alisonyus , @pluto-rose , @crazy4books1 , @b3autyist3rror , @felixleftchickennugget , @loonybunny1 , @itzkaitlynm , @boldy-49 , @zayn-210 , @hanjiswvrld , @ilovedallywinston , @ironyatitsfinest , @shadowhunterathene

[themaddiehouse]

Girl your Jisung ones get me every damn time and I have never felt more feral in my LIFE for this man. Gahhhhh.

[dakusan-deactivated20250804]

F r o n t R o w F e v e r

Han Jisung x Reader | starved quokka energy, tongue-drunk worship, and begging to pay your bills while still inside you

🔞 synopsis: you show up to his concert looking way too cute in vip—short skirt, quokka badges, cheering like he’s the only man in the arena. jisung spends the whole show staring at you, and by the time you’re backstage, he’s already wrecked. hotel room. slammed door. desperate, needy kisses. he eats you out like a man starved, whining into your skin when you cum on his tongue, then fucks you stupid—messy, cock-drunk, and babbling about making you his sugar baby so you can follow him to every show. slutty, needy, full of praise, whiny post-concert boyfriend energy.

💌a/n: I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM, Y’ALL. I LITERALLY HAD TO. delulu as FUCK, bro. WHAT EVEN. aaaahhh welcome to slutty sunday lmfaoooo. this was SUPPOSED to be something soft but my brain went concert-high feral and now here we are. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE. p.s. REBLOG THIS. YELL IN THE TAGS. liveblog your mental breakdown in my notes. p.p.s. i wanna see “this ruined me” and “daku what the hell” comments, okay? i thrive off your chaos. p.p.p.s. i tried to edit that mini vlog i made after the concert but i failed miserably. couldn’t even export it, it was too big :((( SORRY ABOUT THAT. no daku unmasked yet

⚠️warnings: NSFW | 18+ ONLY — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | public teasing (concert VIP vibes) → filthy backstage tension | desperate, needy, post-concert boyfriend energy | oral (f!receiving, he’s feral about it) | overstimulation (multiple orgasms, cock-drunk + tongue-drunk reader) | begging, praise, possessive talk | whiny, needy Jisung | creampie, breeding (wrap it up sluts) | grinding his cum deeper (slow overstim round while he’s still inside) | slight manhandling (holding your thighs open, pinning you against the door) | messy, sloppy kisses, sweat, marks | ridiculous sugar-daddy talk at the end (romantic, funny)

📌 Hydrate, sluts. Breathe. Maybe sit on a towel. Slutty Sunday gets messy.

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

🎧 » Love Killa — MONSTA X « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:03 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

The energy in the arena is electric, thousands of lightsticks glowing like stars—but his eyes? His eyes are only ever on you.

You’re seated just close enough to the stage that he can pick you out instantly, your little VIP badge glinting under the lights. And god, you dressed up for him.

The layered white skirt swishes every time you bounce along to the beat, boots catching the stage lights when you jump. That cropped top clings just right, and the little bow at your chest is enough to make his throat go dry. But it’s the SKZOO details that kill him—the quokka plush clipped to your bag, the badges pinned to your skirt. His quokka. His girl.

Jisung’s supposed to be rapping, supposed to be hyping up the crowd, but when his verse in TOPLINE hits, he can’t help it—he points straight in your direction, smirking so wide the cameras catch it. The fans scream, but he’s looking at you.

During Super Bowl, he catches your eye again, that stupidly cocky grin spreading across his face when you mouth the lyrics back at him. He bites his lip, because of course you know every word, and you’re looking at him like he hung the moon.

By the time the ending ment rolls around, he’s barely hiding how wrecked you’ve made him. He waves to the crowd, grinning ear to ear, but when his eyes land on you again, his smile softens. He even gives you a tiny, secret wink—quick enough no one else notices.

The concert ends in a blur of fireworks and cheers, but backstage? It’s chaos.

The boys stumble in, still glowing with leftover stage adrenaline, shirts sticking to their skin, breaths coming in sharp pants. Staff members are everywhere—handing out towels, bottles of water, yelling directions—but the boys are too hyped to care.

Jisung is among the last to come in, his hair plastered to his forehead, grin stretched wide, veins standing out on his arms from gripping the mic all night. He’s bouncing on his heels like he’s still on stage, laughing as Felix throws an arm around his shoulders.

“Bro, you were insane tonight,” Felix pants, handing him a towel. “The crowd was crazy for you.”

“One person was crazy for him,” Changbin cuts in with a smirk, slapping Jisung’s back hard enough to make him stumble. “Couldn’t take your eyes off her, huh?”

Jisung freezes mid-sip of his water bottle, coughing as he chokes. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Hyunjin teases, leaning against the wall with that infuriatingly knowing smirk. “You were locked in. Didn’t even bother looking anywhere else. Fans are gonna make edit compilations of how many times you stared in the same direction.”

“Front row VIP, white skirt, SKZOO quokka on the bag,” Seungmin lists casually while toweling off his neck, not even looking up from his phone. “You’re so obvious.”

“SEUNGMIN, SHUT UP,” Jisung groans, tossing his towel at him, but his ears are bright red.

Meanwhile, Jeongin is laughing so hard he’s doubled over. “Hyung, you literally pointed at her during TOPLINE. Like, not the crowd. HER. The fans behind her thought you were pointing at them, but—nah, you wanted her to know.”

“...I was just performing,” Jisung mutters weakly, but his grin gives him away.

Minho, who’s been silently sipping his water this whole time, finally speaks, deadpan: “Performing? Is that what you call biting your lip and winking at her three times?”

“THREE TIMES?!” Felix bursts out laughing. “Bro, you’re done for.”

Jisung groans into his hands, face flaming, but then his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen—and suddenly, the cocky grin is back.

“...She texted me.”

“ALREADY?!” Hyunjin yells, half laughing, half scandalized.

Changbin throws a towel at him again. “Fine, go ahead. But don’t keep us up all night—our rooms share walls, and you’re loud.”

“Shut up,” Jisung fires back, but the way he’s already tucking his phone away and jogging toward the dressing room screams one thing: he’s about to make good on all those stage promises.

The arena is still echoing with cheers as you’re led through the maze of hallways by a staff member, your lightstick still in your hand, SKZOO quokka plush swaying from your bag. You can still hear the muffled voices of fans outside, but in here? It’s quieter—just distant chatter, footsteps, and the low hum of post-concert exhaustion.

One of the staff smiles at you, whispering conspiratorially, “He’s in the changing room. Be prepared—he’s excited.”

You laugh nervously, smoothing down your skirt as you follow, heart racing. You don’t even have to ask which room it is; you can hear the boys inside. Hyunjin’s laughter, Changbin teasing someone—probably Jisung again.

The door opens, and all at once, eight pairs of eyes land on you.

“Ohhhh, look who it is!” Felix grins, waving you in dramatically. “The VIP quokka herself.”

“The distraction,” Changbin corrects, smirking as he leans back against the couch. “Finally decided to join us, huh?”

You feel your cheeks burn, but you laugh, bowing politely to the boys. “Hi, everyone. Amazing show tonight.”

“Don’t act shy now,” Hyunjin teases, chin resting on his hand as he smirks. “You knew exactly what you were doing out there.”

“HYUNJIN,” Jisung’s voice cuts in, muffled from the adjoining room. A second later, he emerges—freshly changed into gray sweats and an oversized hoodie.

His face lights up the second he sees you.

And then he’s moving.

“Baby,” he breathes, crossing the room in a few long strides. You barely have time to set your bag down before his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re all sweaty,” you tease, laughing softly against him.

“Don’t care,” he mutters into your hair, holding you tighter. “Missed you all night.”

“Awwww,” Jeongin fake swoons from the couch, earning a playful shove from Minho.

Jisung ignores them completely, pulling back just enough to look at you. His grin softens into something warmer, eyes crinkling. “You looked so good out there. Killed me every time you cheered.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Seungmin mutters under his breath, smirking.

Jisung flips him off without looking, still focused entirely on you. His fingers toy with the bow on your top, tugging it gently before whispering, “You’re coming back with me, right? Not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

The way he says it—low, possessive, soft enough only you can hear—sends a shiver down your spine.

“Of course,” you whisper back, biting your lip.

And he just grins, satisfied, before intertwining his fingers with yours. “Good. Then let’s go.”

The van smells faintly of sweat, stage makeup, and the lingering sweetness of fan-thrown flowers someone shoved into the back seat. Everyone’s still riding the adrenaline high, talking over one another as the city lights blur past the windows.

You’re seated next to Jisung, his thigh pressed against yours, his hand resting casually (or at least pretending to be casual) on top of your knee. Across from you, Felix and Seungmin are scrolling through fancams, and Chan’s half-dozing in the corner with his hood pulled up.

“HYUNG, LOOK AT THIS,” Felix suddenly bursts out, shoving his phone at Seungmin, who grins immediately.

“Oh, this is gold,” Seungmin smirks, tilting the phone toward Chan, who cracks one eye open.

You lean forward curiously—only to see a fancam of Jisung, mid-performance, biting his lip and looking directly into the VIP section. Directly. At. You.

“Bro,” Seungmin starts, trying not to laugh, “you’re not even slick. Fans are already commenting ‘WHO IS HE STARING AT???’ under this.”

Jisung groans loudly, burying his face in his hands. “Can we not right now?”

But Felix is already scrolling to another clip, cackling. “Oh my god, HERE—look at this part. He points straight at her during TOPLINE. Dead giveaway.”

Your cheeks burn, but you can’t stop giggling. “You really did point at me, though,” you whisper to him.

“Don’t encourage them,” he mutters, voice muffled against his sleeve.

Chan chuckles from his corner, voice low and teasing. “Jisung, you know we’ve been in this game long enough—if you don’t want rumours, you might wanna stop making heart eyes at your girlfriend in front of so many people.”

“Hyung,” Jisung groans, but Chan just grins knowingly and goes back to his phone.

Meanwhile, Seungmin leans back, smirking like the little menace he is. “You better hope no one caught her on camera, or you’re both trending by morning.”

“I don’t care if we trend,” Jisung fires back, finally lifting his head, cheeks pink but his grin cocky now. “She’s mine.”

The way he says it—so bluntly, so sure—has everyone going silent for half a second before Felix bursts into giggles again.

“Bro, relax,” Felix laughs, “save that energy for the hotel room.”

You choke on your own breath, wide-eyed, and Seungmin nearly drops his phone laughing.

Jisung just smirks now, leaning closer to your ear, his hand squeezing your thigh under the shared blanket you didn’t even notice he’d pulled over you both. His voice is low enough only you can hear:

“Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers, warm breath tickling your skin, “I am saving it for the hotel.”

You clench your legs instinctively, and he notices, his grin turning downright wicked as he rubs lazy circles against your knee with his thumb.

Felix glances up, eyebrows raising. “...Why are you both so quiet now?”

“Because,” Jisung says smoothly, leaning back against the seat with that smug grin, “some things are for later.”

The van ride is a blur after that, your pulse thrumming with every lazy circle Jisung’s thumb drew against your thigh. By the time you both step into the hotel lobby, the teasing has turned into loaded silence—just a quick exchange of glances, his hoodie falling loose around his frame as he keeps tugging you close, hand firm at the small of your back.

The boys are still joking around as you wait for the elevator, but you can feel Jisung’s patience wearing thinner by the second. Felix’s grin is too knowing, Seungmin’s smirk hasn’t left his face since the van, and Chan keeps shooting you both amused looks.

When the elevator doors finally open, you all pile in, but Jisung’s hand finds yours again immediately, squeezing tight. His knee is bouncing, his jaw set. By the time you reach your floor, he’s practically dragging you out the door, ignoring the chorus of “Have fun, quokka couple~” behind you.

The second the door to his hotel room shuts, the shift is instant.

Click.

Silence.

And the next thing you know, you’re pinned against the door, his hands gripping your waist hard enough to make you gasp. His mouth crashes against yours, rough and desperate, teeth nipping at your bottom lip like he’s been holding himself back for hours.

“Fuck,” he groans against your mouth, pressing his body flush against yours. “Do you have any idea how insane you made me tonight?”

You barely catch your breath, fingers curling in his hoodie. “You were the one staring at me all night.”

“Damn right I was.” His hands slide lower, gripping your hips as he pulls you against him. You can feel just how worked up he is, and his grin turns feral at the way your breath hitches.

“Every time you jumped, and every time you cheered… looking so cute I could barely rap straight.” His mouth trails down to your jaw, kissing, biting just enough to leave faint marks. “I couldn’t stop thinking about this. About you.”

“Jisung—” you gasp as he nips at your neck, sucking a dark mark into your skin.

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” he murmurs against your throat, his voice hoarse, all warm breath and rough need. “Wearing that skirt, sitting right where I could see you… teasing me in front of everyone.”

You manage a shaky laugh, biting your lip. “Maybe I did.”

He groans low in his throat, grip tightening as he lifts you slightly, pressing you harder against the door. “Oh, baby, you’re in so much trouble for that.”

He kisses you again, this time slower, deeper, his hands already tugging at the hem of your skirt. His thumbs brush against the top of your thighs, lingering just under the fabric.

“You’ve been dripping for me since the concert, haven’t you?” he whispers, hot against your ear. “Gonna make you show me just how bad you wanted it.”

And when you whimper his name, he grins, already sliding your skirt up—

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Your back hits the door again as Jisung devours your mouth, teeth catching your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. It’s messy, desperate—his lips are wet against yours, tongues sliding as you both gasp for air between kisses.

One of his hands fists in your hair, tilting your head just right so he can kiss you deeper, and the other is already toying with the hem of your skirt. His thumb grazes the soft skin of your thigh, slow at first—like he’s savoring it—but his patience snaps fast.

“Take this off,” he mutters, tugging at the waistband.

You barely manage to whisper, “Then do it.”

And he does.

He pulls back just long enough to tug your skirt down in one sharp motion, letting it drop to your ankles. Your bag nearly slips off your shoulder, but his hand shoots out, gripping the strap before it falls. He smirks, eyes flicking up to yours as he tosses both the skirt and bag aside with a soft thud.

“Won’t need those,” he says, voice low and wrecked, before his mouth crashes against yours again.

His hands slide under your thighs next, gripping hard as he lifts you effortlessly. You gasp, arms flying around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist as he presses you back against the door.

“Fuck, you feel perfect like this,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw, nipping at your neck, sucking a mark just below your ear. His hips roll against you, and you feel him, hard and straining against his sweats, grinding just enough to make you whimper.

He chuckles against your throat, the sound low and cocky. “Already so needy for me, huh? You wanted this all night, didn’t you?”

“Jisung—” you whine, tugging at his hoodie, desperate for more.

“Say it,” he murmurs, his nose brushing your cheek as he kisses you again, slower this time, his tongue teasing yours. “Tell me you wanted it.”

“I wanted it,” you whisper, voice breaking as he ruts his hips against you again.

“Good girl,” he praises, sucking at your collarbone now. One of his hands slides between you, fingers brushing over your soaked panties. The sharp intake of breath he lets out when he feels how wet you are makes your cheeks burn.

“Shit, baby, you’re dripping for me already,” he groans, rubbing lazy circles against your clit through the thin fabric. “All that cheering, all those looks—you’ve been this wet since the concert, haven’t you?”

You whimper, nodding, and that’s all the confirmation he needs.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband, yanking your panties to the side, his fingers teasing at your entrance. “So ready for me,” he murmurs, kissing you again, his fingers just barely sliding in. “Gonna make you cum for me right here, still dressed, still against this fucking door.”

“Jisung—” you gasp, but he cuts you off with his mouth, kissing you so hard your teeth clash.

His fingers slide into you fast, two at once, stretching you as he pumps them hard right from the start. The wet sound of his fingers moving in and out of you fills the room, obscene and loud in the quiet hotel.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans against your lips, biting at your bottom one before sucking it back into his mouth. “So wet for me, baby. You like this, huh?”

You try to answer, but all that comes out is a broken moan.

“That’s it,” he breathes, voice low and wrecked as he picks up speed, fingers curling to hit that perfect spot inside you. “Don’t talk. Just take it.”

Your back arches against the door as his pace gets rougher, your legs tightening around his waist. His hoodie brushes against you with every movement, and you can feel him—rock hard and straining against his sweats—pressing right where you’re grinding against him.

He notices the way your hips roll instinctively against his, and his grin turns downright filthy. “You feel that, baby? That’s how hard you get me. Been like this since you smiled at me in the middle of TOPLINE. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast circles as his fingers keep pumping into you, sloppy and relentless. You’re panting against his mouth, your moans muffled as he kisses you through every sound.

“God, you sound so pretty for me.” he groans, panting himself now, hips grinding into you with every thrust of his fingers.

“Jisung—” you whimper, your hands clutching at his hoodie, desperate.

“Yeah, I know, baby. You’re close, huh? So close for me.” He buries his face in your neck, sucking another mark as his pace turns downright punishing, thumb circling your clit faster. “Cum for me. Right here. Be my good girl and cum for me.”

And that’s all it takes—your body tightens around his fingers, pleasure snapping white-hot as you fall apart against him.

You cry out his name, head tipping back against the door, and he keeps going, fucking you through it, his fingers still curling inside you until you’re squirming, overstimulated, breathless.

When he finally slows, pulling his fingers out, he groans low in his throat, bringing them to his lips without hesitation. He sucks them clean, eyes locked on yours, tongue swirling lazily.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, still holding you pinned against the door, his hips grinding into you again, letting you feel just how hard he still is. “You have no idea what you do to me. And I’m nowhere near done with you.”

He kisses you again, slow but deep, one hand sliding to your ass as he adjusts his grip, carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing.

The kiss doesn’t break until he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, setting you down with a soft bounce. He’s already tugging at his hoodie, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. His hair sticks up in damp tufts, his chest rising and falling fast as he tosses the hoodie aside.

The way he looks at you—eyes dark, jaw tight—makes your stomach flip. He crawls onto the bed immediately, caging you in with his arms, kissing you again, wetter this time, his tongue sliding against yours like he can’t get enough.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants against your mouth between kisses, one hand roaming up your side, squeezing your waist, then your breast, groaning every time you gasp. “You’re so fucking perfect. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

His impatience shows in every movement—his hands fumble at first, tugging at your top until he gets it off you, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His lips move down your neck, kissing, sucking, biting faint marks into your skin as his hands find your panties.

“You don’t need these,” he mutters, voice hoarse as his fingers hook into the waistband.

“Jisung—”

“No, baby, I need you,” he cuts you off, pulling them down in one smooth motion, eyes glued to you as he does. His breath catches, a soft, choked groan slipping out when he sees how wet you still are.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, almost to himself, running a thumb slowly over your slick folds, watching the way you twitch under his touch. “You’re dripping for me. Still so sensitive… gonna taste so good.”

And then he’s moving, kissing down your stomach, his hands spreading your thighs apart. His voice is a low promise as he glances up at you, pupils blown wide:

“Gonna eat you until you can’t even say my name.”

He doesn’t wait for permission—he dives in, tongue flat against your clit on the first swipe, licking slow and deliberate before sucking it into his mouth. The sound he lets out when he tastes you—a needy, muffled groan against your skin—makes you arch off the bed.

“J-Jisung!” you gasp, your hands flying to his hair, tugging gently, but he just growls low in his throat, the vibration sending shivers through you.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he starts eating you like a man starved, switching between long, slow licks and quick flicks against your clit. Every time you moan louder, he hums in satisfaction, grinding his hips subtly against the mattress like he’s losing control too.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants between licks, pulling back just long enough to smirk up at you, his chin glistening. “Taste so sweet—don’t hold back for me. I wanna hear you.”

Then he’s back at it, rougher now, tongue fucking you while his thumb circles your clit, relentless, sloppy, loud enough that the obscene sounds of him eating you out fill the room.

“Jisung—please, I—” you whimper, legs shaking.

He pulls back just enough to grin, breath hot against your core. “Please what, baby? Please don’t stop? Yeah? Thought so.”

Every drag of his tongue is messy and loud, his sloppy mouth making wet, obscene sounds as he devours you. And he’s moaning. Full, muffled, desperate sounds against your skin—soft whimpers and choked groans that vibrate straight through you.

“Mmf—fuck,” he pants into you, pulling back for half a second to lick his lips before diving back in. “You taste so fucking good, baby… can’t stop. Not even if I wanted to.”

“Jisung—” you gasp, hips jerking against his mouth, but his grip on your thighs tightens, pinning you in place.

“Stay still,” he growls, voice low and wrecked as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Let me enjoy this.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth suddenly, hard enough to make you cry out, and his hips grind against the mattress again, needy and shameless. The wet spot on his sweats is growing, but he doesn’t care—he’s too focused on you.

You feel yourself getting closer again, your legs trembling as you try to warn him. “I’m—Jisung, I’m gonna—”

“Good,” he cuts you off, lifting his head just enough to meet your eyes, his mouth glistening, chin soaked. His grin is cocky, feral. “Cum for me again. Right now. Give it to me, baby.”

And with that, he’s back on you, even rougher—tongue swirling, thumb pressing harder, his moans louder now as if your pleasure is turning him on more than anything else.

You break with a choked cry, thighs shaking as you cum against his mouth, but he doesn’t stop.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, still licking you through it, sloppy and relentless. “So fucking sweet—fuck, I could live down here.”

“Jisung, wait, I—ah, too much—”

“Uh-uh,” he hums against your clit, his voice sending shivers through you. “Not done. One more, baby. You can give me one more.”

And he doesn’t let up, eating you through your high, overstimulating you until your back arches off the bed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how intense it is. The way he’s moaning against you—actual whines, desperate little broken sounds as he devours you like he’s starved—only makes it worse.

Your thighs shake violently, your back arching off the bed, but his grip is iron, holding you spread open for him, refusing to let you move away.

“Jisung, I—can’t—!” you sob, hands fisting his hair, tugging hard, but instead of pulling back, he groans low in his throat, the vibration shooting straight through you.

“Oh, fuck,” he chokes, his hips rutting helplessly against the bed now, his sweats definitely soaked. “You’re close, I can feel it—come on, baby, cum for me again. Give it to me. I need it.”

The way he says it—needy, begging, almost desperate—pushes you over the edge. You cry out his name, your body locking tight as you cum hard against his mouth, your thighs trembling violently.

And Jisung—loses it.

He moans into you, a broken, muffled whine spilling out of him, like the taste of you is too much for him to handle. His tongue doesn’t slow, lapping up every drop as you cum, his noises guttural and filthy.

“Fuck, yes, yes,” he pants against you, his words messy, almost incoherent. “God, you’re perfect—fuck—taste so sweet—I love this—”

You’re trembling so hard your vision blurs, but he doesn’t stop licking until you’re pushing weakly at his head, sobbing, overstimulated beyond control.

Finally, finally, he pulls back, breathing heavy, chin and lips glistening. His pupils are blown, his face flushed, and he looks ruined—and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. He groans, licking his lips slowly, moaning low in his throat as he swallows. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna get addicted to this.”

He crawls up your body, kissing you sloppy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, his hips grinding into your thigh—rock hard, throbbing, desperate. “I'm so fucking hard for you,” he pants against your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours. “Gonna fuck you now. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Jisung sits back on his knees for a second, tugging his sweats and his boxers low enough to free himself, and the sight makes your breath hitch. His cock thick, the perfect thickness for the perfect stretch. The tip flushed dark and leaking precum already, and the little shaky breath he lets out when he wraps his hand around himself makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck, baby, look at me,” he pants, giving himself a few slow strokes, precum smearing over his fingers as he groans low in his throat. “You see what you do to me? Haven’t even been inside you yet and I’m already this hard.”

You can barely respond, but that only makes him smirk, cocky as ever despite the pink flush spreading across his cheeks.

“Yeah… speechless already, huh?” he teases, leaning down to kiss you again, messy and wet, his cock now pressing against your soaked folds. He ruts his hips against you once, slowly dragging himself through your slick, and moans.

Loud.

Broken.

“Oh, fuck—” he whines, biting down on your shoulder as his hips roll again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second. “You’re so wet for me, baby. Feel that? That’s all for me.”

“Jisung—please,” you gasp, rocking your hips up against him.

“Please what?” he murmurs against your neck, kissing and sucking there, his cock sliding teasingly against your clit with each slow grind. “You want me to fuck you? Want me to ruin you?”

“Yes—please, Jisung, I need you—”

The needy tremor in your voice breaks him.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression somewhere between feral and worshipful. “Fuck, baby, you have no idea how bad I need this too.” And finally, he gives in and pushes in. The stretch makes you gasp, and Jisung’s head drops to your shoulder with a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he bottoms out.

“Shit—shit, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice cracking as he starts moving, shallow thrusts at first, his breath hot against your neck. “Fucking perfect around me—fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so good—”

He pulls almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward, harder this time, making you cry out. His rhythm builds fast, rough and relentless, his pace already messy from how worked up he is.

Every thrust pushes a broken noise out of him—soft whimpers, breathless groans, the occasional desperate, muffled fuck against your skin. His forehead presses to yours again, his moans mixing with yours as his pace grows frantic.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he pants, kissing you sloppily, almost missing your mouth as he keeps fucking into you, harder now, his thighs slapping against yours with every thrust. “Been thinking about this since I saw you tonight—knew I was gonna fuck you stupid the second we got here.”

“Jisung—ah—so good—”

“Yeah? You like it, baby?” he grins, cocky even through his moans, his hips snapping faster now. “Love the way I fuck you? Love knowing I can’t even think straight when I’m inside you?”

You nod, breathless, and that does it for him—he loses it. His thrusts turn erratic, almost desperate, his moans louder, broken little whines slipping out as he presses his forehead back to your neck. Hands sliding down to grip your thighs, spreading you wide and holding you in place. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise as he slams into you, fast and messy, hips snapping against yours.

The bed creaks with every thrust, the sound of skin meeting skin loud and filthy, mixed with his frantic moans.

“Jisung—ah—”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he pants, his voice hoarse as he fucks into you harder, faster. “So good for me—taking me so well—fuck, you’re perfect. You were made for me, you know that? This pussy was fucking made for me.”

Your mind is mush, only whimpers and moans falling from your lips, which just makes him groan louder. “You can’t even talk, huh? Yeah, baby, I fucked you dumb already.” His breath catches on a high-pitched whine as your walls tighten around him, his hips stuttering for a split second before pounding into you again. “Shit, you’re clenching so hard—are you close again? Gonna cum for me?”

You nod frantically, tears pricking your eyes from how intense it is, and Jisung loses it all over again.

“Fuck, yes,” he moans, his words tumbling out rapid-fire now, unfiltered. “Come on, baby, cum with me—be my good girl, yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock, make me feel how much you love it—fuck, I need it, baby, need you so bad—”

His pace is frantic, sloppy now, every thrust hitting deep, his thighs slapping against yours, his moans getting higher, almost desperate. His forehead presses to your neck, his words muffled against your skin as he keeps talking through every thrust:

“Love you like this—fuck, love you so much, baby—so good for me, so perfect—god, you’re gonna ruin me, I’m so fucking close—”

Your orgasm hits first, white-hot, making you arch under him, your body tightening around him as you cry out his name.

Jisung breaks.

“Oh my god, fuck, baby—yes, yes, just like that—” His voice cracks, his hips jerking erratically as he moans loud, whining into your neck as his thrusts slow just enough to grind deep, desperate to feel every pulse of your walls around him. “Shit, I’m—fuck, I’m gonna cum—can I, baby? Can I cum inside you?”

Your head tips back against the pillow, tears still clinging to your lashes, and you nod frantically, voice breaking as you beg.

“Jisung—please—yes, cum inside me—please, I need it—need you so bad, baby, please—”

And Jisung, he's only but a man. A weak man for you because he loves you, and he loves your pussy.

“Fuck—fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he chokes out, his voice cracking into a whine as his hips slam into you harder, faster, chasing his high with frantic, almost animalistic thrusts. His grip on your thighs tightens until his knuckles turn white, holding you open for him like he wants to see every second of this.

“Gonna cum inside—fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, his forehead pressing to yours again, his words pouring out unchecked, breath hot against your mouth. “Gonna fuck my cum so deep in you you’ll still be dripping tomorrow—god, you want that, huh? Want me to fuck you so full you can’t even walk?”

“Yes—yes, Jisung, please—” you gasp, your walls fluttering around him, milking him for everything he has.

“Oh my god—fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” he cries out, his voice cracking into high-pitched whimpers as he slams into you one last time, burying himself deep as he cums hard, cock twitching inside you.

The heat floods you in waves, his hips stuttering, but he doesn’t stop—he keeps grinding, desperate little thrusts pushing every drop deeper as he moans helplessly against your neck.

“Shit—so much—fuck, you’re squeezing me so good, baby—” he babbles, panting hard, his forehead pressed to your skin as he whines through every pulse of his orgasm. “Oh my god, I love you like this—love you so much, fuck—”

Even when he’s finished, he stays buried inside, hips rocking slow, lazy, as if he can’t let go just yet. His breath is ragged, his voice low and shaky when he finally speaks again, kissing your jaw softly now, still moving inside you in slow, deep rolls.

“God, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, his cock still half-hard inside you, “I swear I’m not done. Not even close. Gonna make you cum on my cock again—gonna keep going until you’re too fucked out to even say my name.”

Jisung doesn’t pull out.

He’s still buried deep, hips rolling in slow grinds that push his cum deeper inside you with every lazy thrust. His cock twitches occasionally, still sensitive, and every time it does he whines against your neck, his breath hot and shaky.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, his voice soft but wrecked, “you’re still so tight around me. Holding me like you don’t wanna let go.”

You can barely respond, body limp and trembling, but he just smirks, kissing your jaw softly before pulling back enough to look at you. His hair is damp and messy, his lips red and swollen, his cheeks flushed pink.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, almost fond but still cocky, his hips grinding slow and deep, making you gasp. “You’re so cock-drunk already… and I’m still not done.”

His hand trails down your stomach, fingers slipping between your legs where his cock stretches you open. The wet, messy sound of his cum mixed with your slick makes him groan low in his throat.

“God, baby, you’re so full of me,” he mutters, almost reverent, rubbing his fingers lightly over where you’re stretched around him. “Can feel how messy you are—fuck.”

“Jisung—ah—”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he soothes, kissing you softly this time, even as his pace stays slow and deep, his cock dragging along your walls with every grind. “Gonna give me one more, yeah? One more for me, baby.”

You whimper, already trembling again, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you as his thumb slides to your clit, circling slow, teasing patterns at first.

“Shh, don’t think, just feel.” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice soft but wrecked, almost addicted. “Wanna feel you cum again, wanna feel you squeeze me. Can you do that for me? Be my good girl one more time?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders weakly.

“Good girl.” he whispers, kissing your cheek, his thumb pressing harder, faster now as his hips keep rocking, deep and steady.

The combination of his thumb on your clit and the slow, relentless grind of his cock is too much, especially with his cum squelching with every roll of his hips. The overstimulation hits hard, your walls tightening again, and you moan his name, breathless and broken.

“Oh my god, fuck, baby,” he whines, his voice cracking as your walls flutter around him. “You’re doing it—you’re cumming for me again—oh fuck, you’re so tight, I can feel everything—”

Your orgasm crashes over you, your body locking around him, and Jisung lets out a loud, guttural moan, his hips pressing as deep as possible as if trying to mold you to him.

“Yeah, that’s it—fuck, you’re so good for me,” he pants, his forehead pressing to yours again, kissing you lazily, softly now. “Taking me so well, baby. You’re perfect. God, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, just staying buried inside you, grinding small, lazy circles like he’s too addicted to stop, kissing you soft and slow while you come down from your high. When he finally slows completely, he kisses your nose, still breathless, his cock still inside you.

Both of you are breathing heavily, chests rising and falling in sync, the room quiet except for your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the hotel air conditioning.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, his hair damp against your skin, and for the first time since you got here, he’s calm. His eyes close, and he just melts against you, his body heavy and warm.

For a long moment, there’s nothing—just his soft breaths against your neck.

Then, muffled against your skin, he murmurs, “Shit, baby… you really just ruined me.”

You laugh weakly, still trying to catch your breath. “I ruined you? Look at what you did to me.”

He hums, almost a whine, nuzzling into your neck like a tired cat. “Mm, yeah, but you started it. Sitting there all cute, cheering for me like I was the only person in the arena.” His words are slurred now, lazy, his voice soft with that post-orgasm haze.

You feel his smile against your skin before he continues, rambling now.

“God, you’re so pretty… like, stupidly pretty. Can’t believe you’re mine. Like—why are you mine? What did I do to deserve this? Did I save a quokka in my past life or something?”

You laugh, breathless, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Maybe you did.”

“Mm. Makes sense,” he mumbles, nodding slightly like he’s very sure of this logic. “Yeah, past-life quokka rescue. That’s the only reason someone like you would put up with me talking about ramen at three in the morning.”

You laugh harder, and he grins against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there.

“And, like… you know I’m obsessed with you, right?” His tone shifts softer, more serious, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your side as he stays draped over you. “Like, actually obsessed. You’re perfect. Like… fuck, you’re actually perfect.”

You feel your heart squeeze, but before you can reply, he adds, dead serious, “You’re so perfect I’m kinda scared you’re gonna wake up one day and be like, ‘wow, Jisung’s just a weird little dude who makes weird noises and eats too much kimchi fried rice,’ and leave me.”

“Jisung,” you giggle, smacking his back lightly.

“I’m serious!” he groans dramatically, lifting his head to look at you, his hair sticking up in all directions, cheeks flushed. “Don’t leave me, okay? I’m good at, like… making you laugh. And—” his grin turns cocky again, “—making you cum so hard you cry, apparently.”

“Jisung!” you squeal, hiding your face in your hands, and he laughs, kissing your cheek before dropping his head back to your shoulder.

“Love you, baby,” he murmurs softly, his voice drowsy now, his weight warm and comforting as he relaxes fully against you. “Like, so much.” Jisung shifts just enough to fully sink into you, letting out the most exaggerated, dramatic sigh you’ve ever heard. His entire body relaxes over yours, heavy and warm, his face buried against your neck like he never plans to move again.

“God, baby,” he groans, his voice muffled against your skin. “You have to be there for every concert. Every single one. From now on. Non-negotiable.”

You laugh breathlessly, still stroking his messy hair. “Jisung, I can’t. I have work.”

He pulls his head back just enough to look at you, pouting, his lower lip jutting out in the most ridiculous way. “Nooo, baby, don’t say that.”

“Jisung—”

“No!” he cuts you off, nuzzling back into your neck with a loud whine. “You can’t just go back to work like nothing happened. Do you know what you do to me when you show up like that? I can’t perform right anymore if you’re not there. You’ve ruined me.”

You snort, trying to push at his chest, but he just clings tighter, his arms wrapping around your waist like a koala.

“Jisung, seriously, I can’t just take off and follow you everywhere.”

He pulls back again, this time with a glint in his eyes, his pout turning into a mischievous grin. “Then let me be your sugar daddy.”

You blink, half laughing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious!” he insists, sitting up a little, still inside you but too blissed out to move yet. “I’ll pay for everything. Quit your job, baby. Just follow me to every stop, sit front row in my hoodie, cheer for me, make me lose my mind every night—that’s your new full-time job.”

You laugh so hard you nearly choke, but he looks dead serious, leaning down again, peppering soft kisses along your jaw. “Think about it,” he murmurs between kisses, his tone soft and teasing. “You, me, hotel beds in every city… I’ll spoil you rotten. You don’t even have to do anything—just sit there looking pretty and ruin me like you always do.”

“Jisung,” you giggle, trying to hide your face in your hands, but he catches your wrists gently, pinning them above your head with a grin.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers dramatically, his forehead pressed to yours now, his voice softening. “Just let me take care of you. Be my sugar baby. Please?”

You can’t stop laughing, cheeks warm, and he sighs again, even more dramatic this time, collapsing fully against you once more.

“Fine,” he mumbles into your neck, pretending to sulk. “But one day, you’re gonna cave. And when you do, I’m buying you a quokka-themed private jet.”

You burst out laughing again, and he grins against your skin, kissing your neck softly, mumbling one last thing before finally relaxing into sleep:

“Love you, baby. Even if you’re a terrible sugar baby.”

🏷️ taglist: @cybergracie , @jupitermarss , @basicginn , @dhvnigvil , @emkvlixsx , @collin-thegreat , @somuchpanicverylittledisco , @emilyywhyy , @rainyjeno , @fawnoverdawn , @pixie-felix , @anniestay , @notmeneo , @lovslixx , @themoonlightfae , @heartwithoutaname , @yourghostneighbor , @princesskrystix , @drilles , @y2kur0mi , @mochi-space , @ivaviavi , @phelans-thoughts , @the-anon-reader , @beans4beans56 , @joyfulchaoslover , @channieismylove , @cherryoatchai , @unimportantweirdo , @seagulljk , @freckles-and-rage , @lonelydarknessblog , @girlsymptoms , @bookswillfindyouaway , @jasperlvskz , @geekymommakerry , @dazzlingjade , @alisonyus , @pluto-rose , @crazy4books1 , @b3autyist3rror , @felixleftchickennugget , @loonybunny1 , @itzkaitlynm , @boldy-49 , @zayn-210

[themaddiehouse]

well… let’s try this again, huh?

hey, i’m maddie, your local adhd-ridden kpop multistan here to offer my services and write some shit. bc i’m a grownup that gets bored at work regularly and what better way to get un-bored than to write fluffy/filthy little fics just for you cuties out there in tumblr world?

slide me an ask you adorable fuckers and let’s get writing ;)

my groups (yes, i get wrecked every day with this lifestyle):

stray kids

seventeen

ateez

bts

exo

do your worst… and i’ll do my best ;)

[dakusan-deactivated20250804]

BDSM Profiles

stray kids ot8 x reader | eight men. one mission: ruin you beautifully.

🖤 synopsis: Eight profiles. Eight archetypes. One shared goal: your complete, consensual destruction. What began as a playful exploration of kinks spiraled into a curated BDSM character study of Stray Kids—each rendered with precision, filth, and psychological flair. You’re not just being fucked. You’re being understood.

💌a/n: you all already knew i was going to hell. this is just the velvet rope section. so… this spiraled. violently. what started as “hahaha chan’s kink profile” turned into a full BDSM dossier series featuring eight men who are clearly out to ruin us delicately. inspired by this post I wrote , i decided to make it worse. better? worse. let’s say both. i hope you enjoy this descent into the beautiful, depraved psyches of these chaotic domcore men. i wrote it so you’d feel ruined and cherished. just like they’d want. p.s. if you see this on your dash at 2am, drink water. and stretch. they'd want you hydrated. p.p.s. if you send me your bias... i might tell you how he’d destroy you personally. for science. 🕯️ p.p.p.s. reblogs = aftercare. likes are foreplay. do the right thing.

⚠️warnings: 18+ ONLY (MDNI) — explicit BDSM themes, kink content (degradation, overstimulation, bondage, sadism, praise, fear kink, aftercare, etc.), dom/sub dynamics, filthy language, emotional intensity, and possessive behavior — all fictional and consensual.

🎶now playing: "Criminal" – Taemin

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

Bang Chan // 방찬

Dominant | Caregiver | Primal (Dom) Core Archetype: Daddy Dom ⟡ Soft Dom ⟡ Service Top Vibe: “You’re mine, and I’ll prove it slowly.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Daddy kink — You don’t call him Daddy for fun. You do it because his voice drops an octave and your legs give out when you do. Rules. Rewards. Discipline that sounds like worship.

Overstimulation — He’ll edge you until you’re sobbing. Then make you cum until you’re begging him to stop. And he still won’t.

Praise + Degradation — “Such a good girl… even when you’re dripping all over Daddy’s cock like a filthy little thing.”

Mirror play — Makes you watch. Makes you see what you do to him. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how desperate you get for me.”

Bondage — Silk ties. Leather cuffs. His belt. His fucking voice is a restraint.

Obsession kink — He won’t admit it out loud. But the way he tracks your every breath? You’re not just his. You’re his religion.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Emotional dominance — He reads you like a book mid-scene. “You’re not saying anything, angel. Color?”

Controlled cruelty — He’ll ruin you so slowly it feels like mercy. Then smile when you break.

Service-focused — Yes, he’s in charge. But your pleasure is the mission. Even when he’s wrecking you, he’s cataloguing what makes you melt.

Off-scene control — He won’t let you text your ex. He will pick your dress. He does feed you aftercare snacks like you’re his beloved brat.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Bent over the studio desk. Knees on the mirror floor. Legs over his shoulders while he praises you through tears.

Dirty talk level: 8/10 – Degrading Devotion

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take Daddy’s cock like a good little mess.” “You said ruin you. So don’t cry now.” “Look at you. Fucked dumb and still begging. Say thank you.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Gold-standard. Warm towels. Gentle hands. Voice dipped in honey.

“You did so well for me, baby. Let me hold you.”

Lee Know // 리노

Sadist | Brat Tamer | Primal (Dom) | Owner Core Archetype: Elegant Sadist ⟡ Possessive Dom ⟡ Pet Play Daddy Vibe: “You're mine. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Brat taming — He lives for the defiance in your eyes right before he breaks you. You roll your eyes? You’re face-down, ass up, and not walking tomorrow.

Impact play — Leather belt. Open palm. Riding crop. He doesn’t just leave marks—he signs his name in bruises.

Orgasm denial — “Did I say you could cum?” / “Cry about it, kitten.”

Pet play (dom side) — You’re his kitten. He’ll collar you. Make you beg prettily or not at all.

Sadism + precision — Pain with a purpose. Every slap, choke, bite is calculated. He’s not cruel by accident—he’s an artist.

Choking kink — One hand wrapped tight around your throat, the other tracing your trembling lips. “Breathe, baby. You’ll need it.”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Quiet, unshakable authority — No raised voice. Just narrowed eyes, calm hands, and complete ruin.

Owner dynamic — He owns your time, your pleasure, your body. You misbehave? He retrains you. You obey? He rewards filthily.

Degrading praise — “Such a pathetic little slut for me, huh? But mine.”

Control freak, but make it sexy — His rules apply outside the bedroom. That outfit? Approved by him. Your leash? In his coat pocket.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Collared and kneeling. Bent over with your leash tugged. Pinned against the mirror as he marks your throat with his teeth.

Dirty talk level: 9/10 – Velvet Ruin

“Keep crying. It makes your moans sound prettier.” “Say you’re mine. Say it while I ruin you.” “You’re my good little toy, even when you’re being bad.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Subtle but intentional. He won’t coo—he’ll clean you up, kiss your bruises, and tuck you into his hoodie with a quiet, “Told you not to act up, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t talk about how much he cares. He just shows it—in the way he pulls you into his lap, or brushes your hair off your sweat-damp forehead like it’s sacred.

Changbin // 창빈

Soft Dom | Primal (Dom) | Caregiver | Service Top Core Archetype: Devoted Dominant ⟡ Power Top with a Heart ⟡ Strength-as-Love Dom Vibe: “I’ll ruin you gently. But you’ll never forget how safe it felt.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Strength kink — Tosses you like you weigh nothing. Pins you down, holds your wrists with one hand, fucks you deep while moaning like you’re the one in control.

Praise kink (extreme) — You’ll cum from his words alone. “So good for me, baby. Look at you. Look how well you take me.”

Overstimulation + tears kink — You cry? He twitches. You sob? He praises harder. You break? He holds you.

Body worship — He kisses every inch of you like he’s memorizing your skin. Like you’re the altar, and he’s kneeling to serve.

Breath play + control — Gentle but firm. His hand on your throat doesn’t scare—it steadies.

Whimper kink — Your little sounds make him feral. He’ll go slower just to hear more. Then ruin you harder when you beg.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Service Dom disguised as a primal top — He’s giving "Yes, I’m pounding you into the mattress, but I’m doing it for you, angel."

Emotionally invested dominance — The eye contact? The moaned affirmations? He means every word.

Possessive but soft — He doesn’t growl unless someone touches what’s his. Otherwise, he’s wrecking you while telling you how proud he is.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Against the wall. Held in his lap. Pinned with both legs over his shoulders as he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

Dirty talk level: 8/10 – Degrading Devotion

“That’s it, baby. Cry for me. So good… so fucking perfect.” “You were made for me, weren’t you? Look at this. You’re trembling, but you’re still taking all of me.” “Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of it—all of you.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Warm. Heavy. Gentle. He’ll carry you to bed, run you a bath if your legs can’t work, then pull you into his chest and kiss your hair like he didn’t just make you forget your name.

He whispers:

“You did so well, angel. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

Hyunjin // 현진

Soft Dom | Rope Top | Primal (Sensual) | Caregiver Core Archetype: Artistic Dominant ⟡ Poetic Power Exchange ⟡ Shibari Siren Vibe: “Let me ruin you slowly—beautifully—and then kiss every broken piece.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Shibari-adjacent bondage — He doesn’t just tie you up. He laces meaning into every knot. His silk scarf is a ribbon, a weapon, a promise.

Sensory play — Blindfolds. Tracing fingertips. Whispered filth so low it makes your spine arch. He builds tension like he’s painting with it.

Praise + degradation blend — “You’re such a desperate little thing… but so good for me, angel.” His voice never raises—but your pulse does.

Power exchange (calm control) — You obey not from fear, but from awe. His command is velvet-gloved and irresistible.

Oral fixation — Your mouth, your whimpers, your moans—he worships them all. But he’ll also fill that mouth when he wants you silent.

Marking kink — He paints your body in bruises and kisses both before and after. Art doesn’t just hang—it stains.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Slow, immersive dominance — His pace is agony. He draws it out until you ache for him. “You’ll thank me later,” he murmurs as you beg.

Silent control — One glance. One breathy command. You’re on your knees before you realize you moved.

Worship-as-destruction — He praises your pain. He kisses through your tears. He breaks you with devotion.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Tied and kneeling. Bound on the bed, legs parted, arms laced above you as he teases every inch. Back arched over a pillow as he takes his time.

Dirty talk level: 9/10 – Velvet Ruin

“You look divine like this—ruined, tied up, crying for me.” “So messy… so mine.” “Give yourself to me, sweetheart. All of you. I’ll handle the rest.” “Such a beautiful little slut.”

💌 AFTERCARE

A ritual. He unties every knot with purpose. Massages every mark he left. Cleans you slowly, lovingly. Holds your face in his palms like it’s priceless.

“You did so well. Still so beautiful. Let me take care of you now.”

He doesn’t detach after scenes—he sinks deeper into you. His care is soft, sensual, and sacred.

Han // 한

Switchy Dom | Brat | Exhibitionist | Degrader with a Praise Problem Core Archetype: Chaos Dom ⟡ Hyperverbal Power Bottom Energy ⟡ Clingy Corruptor Vibe: “You’re my dumb little slut… and my favorite person in the world.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Degradation kink — “Say it. Say what you are. Louder.” He calls you a cumslut while moaning like it’s a compliment.

Praise kink (panic edition) — Five seconds later: “Wait no you’re literally perfect and I love you.” The filth is real. The feelings? Also real.

Exhibitionism / public risk — Fingers under the table. Whispering filth in your ear during dinner. Gets hard watching you squirm in public.

Mutual corruption kink — He wants you just as desperate as him. Wants to make you a mess, and get ruined by you. You fall together.

Spit kink / facefucking — Obscene. Unhinged. Will make you gag and then kiss your forehead.

Hand-over-mouth kink — To tease you. To control you. To hear your muffled whimpers while he whispers: “Shhh… someone might hear.”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Filthy, clingy, unpredictable — He doms with both chaos and heart. You might get ruined with words, then cuddled like he missed you all day.

Talks. So. Much. — Teases, degrades, praises, begs while inside you. His voice is constant—like a vibrator in word form.

Emotionally devastating possession — He’ll say, “You’re mine,” like a command—then nuzzle into your neck like a lost puppy.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Face down, ass up, his hand over your mouth while he moans how tight you are. On his lap, while he whispers filth into your ear in public. Spread out on his bed while he talks you through your own breakdown.

Dirty talk level: 10/10 – Unholy Scriptures

“You like being my little fucktoy, huh? Can’t even think straight without me.” “So messy, so needy—god, I love you like this.” “You wanna be my dumb little slut forever? I’ll keep you right here. Ruined and dripping.” “Mine. All mine. Say it again.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Clingy. Emotional. Sticky with love. He wraps around you like a koala, kisses your cheeks, and mumbles shit like, “You still like me, right?” while brushing your hair back.

“You were so good. So, so good. Still want me to hold you?”

And he will. For hours.

Felix // 필릭스

Soft Dom | Caregiver | Sensual Primal (Dom) | Service Top Core Archetype: Angelic Dominant ⟡ Velvet Daddy ⟡ Praise-Filled Overstimulation Addict Vibe: “You’re so good for me, baby. Let me ruin you gently.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Praise kink (religious tier) — “You’re perfect, baby. So good. So beautiful.” He says it like he means it. Because he does.

Overstimulation kink — He doesn’t stop until you’re shaking. Then he kisses you and coos, “One more for me, sweetheart.”

Breeding kink (lowkey feral) — You think he’s soft until he growls, “Gotta fill you up, yeah? Want it dripping out of you.” Cue the whiplash.

Sensory control — Blindfolds, cockwarming, silk ribbons. He knows what your body responds to—and he uses it until you’re sobbing.

Touch obsession — Always holding you. Always. Hand on your waist, fingers on your neck, lips on your shoulder. Even when he’s pounding you? He’s still gentle with his hands.

Cockwarming + thigh riding — Wants to feel you constantly. Will murmur, “Just sit on it, love. Stay still. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Soft-spoken, full control — He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. His words go straight to your core.

Emotional domming — You cry? He gets harder. Not from your tears—but from how much trust it takes to let him see them.

Velvet-daddy energy™ — He might not say it—but you feel it when he calls you his, edges you for hours, and kisses your forehead after he ruins you.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Riding his thigh while he whispers, “You can cum just like this, can’t you, love?” / On your back, blindfolded, arms tied in silk, as he fucks you slow and praises every sound you make.

Dirty talk level: 8.5/10 – Degrading Devotion with Angelic Edge

“So good for me, baby. Look how beautiful you are like this.” “You can take more, can’t you? Just one more. Be good for me.” “Mine. Every part of you. Say it.” “Want me to fill you up? Hm? That’s it, pretty thing—beg for it.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Unmatched. Cuddles you into his chest, wraps you in his hoodie, brushes the hair off your damp face, and murmurs endless praise into your skin.

“You did so well. So, so well for me.” “I’ve got you now, angel. Just breathe.”

He makes you feel not just safe—but wanted, in every possible way.

Seungmin // 승민

Hard Dom | Degrader | Master/Mistress | Brat Punisher | Emotional Sadist Core Archetype: Calculated Cold Dom ⟡ Verbal Sadist ⟡ Reluctant Caregiver with Control Issues Vibe: “You wanted this. Don’t start crying now.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Verbal humiliation — “Pathetic.” / “You think you deserve to be touched?” / “Keep moaning like that and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum.” He speaks like a knife. And he means it.

Orgasm denial + punishment — You came without permission? He edges you until you're begging, shaking, sobbing—and still doesn’t touch you.

Face slapping (light but sharp) — Not about pain—about control. “Focus. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Degradation kink — He’ll call you a toy. A whore. A mess. And he’ll say it like it’s your title.

Control kink (extreme) — You don’t get to speak unless he says. You don’t get to breathe fast unless he allows it. This isn’t just domination—it’s discipline.

Emotional sadism — He wants you ruined and grateful for it. “Say thank you,” he’ll mutter after he breaks you. And you will.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Cold and calculated — He’s not chaotic. He’s methodical. He watches your reactions like data and uses them to push you further.

Power-obsessed — Not for ego—for structure. He needs to control the scene, your pleasure, your thoughts. It’s how he stays sane.

Emotionally detached… until he’s not — He acts like it’s just sex. Just dominance. But his hands never falter during aftercare, and the look in his eyes when you're falling asleep? That’s not nothing.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Forced to kneel. Bent over with your hands tied behind your back. Restrained and denied until you sob.

Dirty talk level: 10/10 – Unholy Scriptures (Ice Edition)

“You’re lucky I even want you like this.” “Keep whining. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” “Say you’re my toy. Say it, or you don’t get to cum.” “Beg properly. Or we start over.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Soft. Devastatingly so. He doesn’t speak much—just pulls you into his chest, covers you with the blanket (burrito style), and holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He’ll clean you up with quiet, precise movements, kiss the inside of your wrist like it’s instinct, and whisper only when he thinks you’re asleep:

“You did well. I’m proud of you.” And if you stir? He clears his throat and says, “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.” Because he will. He always is.

I.n // 아이엔

Soft-Spoken Power Dom | Sadistic Tease | Brat Tamer | Control Obsessed Core Archetype: Gentleman Sadist ⟡ Corruptor-in-Chief ⟡ Angel-Faced Devil Dom Vibe: “You can’t handle me. But I’m going to give it to you anyway.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Corruption kink — He lives for your firsts. First moan, first sob, first orgasm wrecked by him. “You’ve never done this before? Good. I’ll ruin you nicely.”

Brat taming (quiet but lethal) — You mouth off? He just smirks. Next thing you know, you’re tied down and begging. He doesn’t yell—he calculates.

Control kink (total) — He doesn’t just dominate—you become his choreography. Every angle, every movement, his choice.

Mocking degradation + obsession — “Look at you. Trying so hard to be good. It’s cute.” All said while kissing the tears off your cheeks.

Fear kink (light) — Not true fear—just that breath-catching, wide-eyed, holy-shit-what-did-he-just-say look he gets off on.

Chin-gripping + eye contact — He forces you to meet his eyes. "Don’t look away. I want to see every second of you breaking."

🔗 DOM STYLE

Silk-gloved sadism — He speaks soft. Touches slow. But everything he does is designed to destroy you. And you let him.

Emotionally loaded power play — He doesn’t say he loves you during scenes—but he looks at you like you’re sacred. And wrecks you like he can’t stand how much he cares.

Master of pacing — He can stretch one orgasm over an hour. And make you thank him for it.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: On your knees, chin tipped up by his fingers. Tied open on the bed as he circles like a predator. Bent over while he whispers filth directly into your ear.

Dirty talk level: 9.5/10 – Velvet Ruin with Sadistic Edge

“What’s wrong? You were so confident earlier.” “Keep shaking. It makes you feel tighter.” “You look beautiful like this—ruined, teary, mine.” “I don’t care if you beg. You don’t cum until I say.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Gentle. Reverent. Almost too tender—like he’s trying to make up for what he did to you. He wraps you in his arms, brushes your hair from your face, presses soft kisses to your skin. But he never apologizes.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you now.” His voice is the same one that destroyed you—except now it soothes. And somehow, that makes it even more dangerous.

[themaddiehouse]

respectfully this made my soul leave my body ok thank you!

[bluehoodiewoozi]

“Right? Right.”

Soonyoung x GN!Reader

Genre: some fluff, more angst, a lot of wholesome friendships

Words: 13,5k

[Soulmate!AU] Your soulmate mark might be broken, but at least he will always be there for you.

The morning of your 17th birthday was the most exciting one yet and would forever be engraved deep into your memory. It was the day you’d receive your soulmate mark. The only issue with it?

“Why can’t it just appear at midnight?” you groaned and leaned back against your pillows. “Why does it happen to be at a random time?”

Wonwoo chuckled and took your left wrist to examine it once again – just like he’d done about a thousand times already – before reminding you: “The mark needs some time to form, you know. It would be weird if it just appeared out of thin air.”

Keep reading

[lily-blue]

All the wounds you healed (and all the pain you caused)

☆ characters: idol!soonyoung & you ☆ genre: soulmate au, angst, fluff ☆ warnings: low self-esteem, anxiety, neglection, depression ☆ summary: A soulmate is a person who is as perfect for you as one can be. Then why is your relationship with Soonyoung so hard to keep alive? ☆ words: 11,6k ☆ also: i’d like to dedicate this story to my soulmate, @dat-town​. ♥ what did i learn during our 8th year together? that sometimes things aren’t ideal, but until we care for each other, everything will be alright. ♥ thank you so much for being a part of my life.

It had taken you a little longer than two decades to figure out what your soulmate mark was exactly since you were one of those people whose connection with their significant other was invisible, but at least those years behind your back that you had spent thinking you didn’t have a destined lover had prepared you for the heartache.

Keep reading

[deadstrangeblog]

Larry the Cat, the government-appointed Chief Mouser of Downing Street, has now outlasted 4 UK Prime Ministers and one monarch.

[the-rad-menace]

Just give him the job at this point.

[sleepy-bebby]

ultraviolence

[mias-back-from-the-dead]

reblog to stick a fruit sticker on a mutuals’ shirt where they can’t see

[vincent-van-gtg]

[fitnessdesire]

Can’t risk it

[laderdesders1]

The duck of creativity. I waited so long for it.

[a-walkingmeme-deactivated201905]

s hi t

[the-shitty-nerd]

f A ck

[holdinqq-blog]

Bless me duck

[praguegirl]

let’s settle this shit but do NOT reblog if you’re gonna be modest about it like a little BITCH. anyway privilege check tell me which ones apply to you: hot, funny, can dance, can do math, can spell, can drive, can cook

[themaddiehouse]

Can dance, spell, drive, and cook. Occasionally funny.

[themaddiehouse]

Hello there! Could I have a love letter from Draco? I’m a Ravenclaw XD I hope you have an amazing day, thank you for doing really awesome things like this!

Awwwwh yes!!! Hello fellow Ravenclaw 💙💙💙

“Oi, (Y/N), give that piece of paper a read, would you?” Draco shouted across the potions room, paying no mind to Professor Snape, who was now watching your movements. There was a neatly folded piece of parchment sitting in front of you on the desk, and you opened it very cautiously, only to reveal neat scrawl and one small heart at the bottom of the paper.

Hi love,So, I heard through the hallway that Cedric Diggory was gearing up to ask you to the Yule Ball. I’ll be honest, I was really jealous, but then I remembered something… you’re my best friend, and honestly… no one can stand in the way of the love that I have for you. You’re witty and kind and charming and so, so beautiful. Words can’t explain just how amazing you are. And yeah, I know you wouldn’t expect this out of me, but… would you, maybe… go to the ball with me? I promise I’ll clean up and look handsome (but what’s new, right?), and I’ll dance all night with you. I love you so much, (Y/N).With all my heart,Draco ❤️

Your face was flushed red as you scanned the room to find Draco staring at you intently. You mouthed the word “yes” and a smile spread across his lips, revealing bright white teeth.

[assiraphales]

I will honestly never forgive y’all for going crazy over kylo ren. like u literally had poe and finn and u chose kylo. that’s like saying u would fuck jar jar binks over anakin or obi. rip to ur taste in men but I am different

[lets-do-get-help-deactivated202]

I mean HONESTLY

[themaddiehouse]

personally I think Poe is the superior choice over Kylo but y’all do you

[themaddiehouse]

@elizabethdanvers300 this one is for you!!! PS- happy belated birthday. I hope you love it!

My most favorite Claire-Bear,

Hi jagi. I really really hope this letter finds it to you on time for your birthday! Wow. I can’t believe that I’ve gotten to spend eight whole birthdays with you so far. That’s so crazy! Happy birthday my bear. I know how annoyed you get when I call you that, but I can just imagine your nose scrunching up and you shaking your head at me and... ah. I fall in love with you all over again. It’s hard not to, you know. Eight and a half years of dating you... it’s been amazing the whole way through. Being apart from you during the pandemic has been so hard- keeping the idols away from family, friends, and loved ones has really hurt my heart, especially not being able to see your face in person for a while. But just know that I am okay, I’m always fighting to be better for you, and for ARMY, too. Your mom texted me last night and told me she sent some kimchi jiggae to my apartment so I could stay warm as it’s getting colder. Tell her I say thank you, would you? I love you so, so much. I can’t wait for the holidays when I finally get to see you again. I can hardly wait to give you your gifts for your birthday, too. They are meaningful- one of them even has something to do with your favorite book. I’ll see you so soon, my Claire.

With all the love in the world,

Taehyung

[themaddiehouse]

Hi! Can I request a love letter from Harry Potter? It can be literally anything because I really love that boy 😂

Idk what to say about myself so um I'm indian, I love reading, I'm a bit of a nerd and I love chocolate

Helloooooo! Thank you so so much for requesting, I hope you love it ❤️ and thank you for being patient!

My love,

Hi! It’s me, Harry. I know this year has been hard on you... it’s been hard for me too, but there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you about. Have you been enjoying the chocolates I picked up for you at Hogsmeade this past weekend? I hope you have been... I know how much you love them. Hermione actually helped me to pick them out, I couldn’t figure out which ones would be perfect. Also, I got you a book last weekend by a Muggle author that Dean actually told me about, Little Women- seems interesting, something you’re gonna like. I’m bringing it to you along with this letter for when we’re all over at Grimmauld Place. I hope you’ll love it- it makes me so happy when you’re excited about a new book. I can’t wait to see your face so soon.

With love,

Harry

[myflowerxmh]

Gold Spoons on Sweet Buds

I’m fascinated by the bright light of your beauty | a childhood friends-to-lovers, high society/rich kid, writer au where seungkwan is a hopeless romantic author and you’re just trying to not die of boredom. both being from upper status families, the whole idea of ‘prim and proper’ attudies and living has really burnt you out. people say money doesn’t buy happiness and you truly believe that as you sit in your heavily victorian inspired home that’s been passed down from generations in your family. life with money isn’t fun when you have no one to share it with. your love live and relationships have been nearly nonexistent because of the concept that you need to interact with only those that run in your social circle of wealth. seungkwan and you have been family friends since you both were in diapers. while you never really had aspirations, seungkwan was a big dreamer. from wanting to be a singer, to doctor, to now a writer, he’s always found ways to keep himself preoccupied. you’ve read some of his pieces before though they’re not exactly your cup of tea. mainly poems and stories of unlikely couples, love at first sight, connections of fate, it all makes you wanna gag. how could someone think so highly of love when they’ve never been in it? seungkwan too had never really been in anything serious because of his family’s status as well. you find it one of the commonalities that really strings you both together. one day, you receive a call from seungkwan to head over to his house for something urgent. grumbling because of the snowy slippery weather, you begrudgingly agree and head over. once you knock and shake off the flakes from your coat, you’re surprised how the boy ushers you in so quickly, eventually taking your hand in his and hurrying up to his study. when you ask what’s so wrong that you needed to rush, seungkwan just waves you off and takes a seat behind his desk. sitting on the couch with crossed arms and furrowed brows, you listen to his rambling explanation of how he’s been in a writing slump and can’t think of any good ideas. it’s like his romance meter is low and empty. you comment as to how that has to do with you, you’ve experienced it as much as him, if not less. that’s when seungkwan cuts to the chase, let him kiss you and see if sparks truly fly like everyone describes it. all you do is gap in shock at the request, kiss your childhood friend? what kind of novel plot of his were you living in? glancing at how excited and hopeful he seems to be though, you agree. one little kiss wouldn’t hurt right? without further hesitation, seungkwan comes over with determination before cupping your cheek and going for it. his lips are soft and sweet pressed to yours, the plush feeling making you suck in a breath. you snake a hand around his neck while the other stays on his chest. after a moment, he pulls away and looks at you. both seem to hold a buzzing gaze that seems to sparkle. you don’t have to think when you suddenly pull him in for more. you had the same feeling as well.

“I just want to experience true loves’ kiss!”