Han [youtube Live]:

han [youtube live]: 늦은 발렌타인데이

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summary: minho lets felix get away with anything, including sleeping with his girlfriend. smut - MINORS DNI.

a/n: for @yxngbxkkie i'm sorry the lovely ask you sent me yesterday got lost!! i hope this makes up for it <3

it’s a thing that the three of you do. you know where the night is headed before felix even walks through the front door, while you’re eating dinner, while they’re both pressed up against your sides on the couch watching a movie. 

the way they start varies, though. you never know who’s going to make the first move, who’s going to be in charge. it’s never you though; felix usually takes orders beautifully, soft and eager to please, but minho is the only one who’s allowed to give them. other times, when felix has had a particularly hard day and he’s pent up and frustrated, minho lets him take the reins, allowing him to turn both of you into whimpering submissive messes.

today is not one of those days.

they come at you at the same time, latching their lips onto either side of your neck after giving each other a look. you’re gasping already, arching up even as their hands twine together to hold you down. you let out a yelp when minho sinks his teeth into your neck, not enough to break skin but definitely enough to leave a mark for him to press his fingers into for days. a reminder of the night that you’re about to have. felix smiles into your neck when you shiver in their arms, pressing your legs together to hide the heat that’s already pooling there.

minho reaches to pry your thighs apart again, and he swallows you loud moan with his mouth on yours. he lets you go with a smack to your thigh, admiring how you’re already dazed before turning his attention to felix.

“are you going to make our baby feel good, lix?” minho all but purrs as he reaches up to cup felix’s cheek in his palm. “going to be a good boy for us?”

“yes, hyung,” his deep voice responds as he looks up at minho with shining eyes. tell me what to do, he doesn’t have to say. minho guides him as he undresses you, your limbs pliant as you let them maneuver your arms and legs up. they lay you down, cushioning your head on a pillow.

“hungry, lix-ah?” minho smirks at how felix is eyeing your bare pussy, glistened and wet. you whine at the attention, the noise more needy than self-conscious. you’re too strung out to think about anything other than the desire that’s licking flames up your spine.

“mmhmm,” felix hums, running a single finger through your folds. you jerk when he passes your oversensitive clit. “can i?”

“of course, baby. have your meal,” the sound of minho’s belt clinking open is drowned out by the happy noise felix makes before he dives in, not giving you a second to get used to the feeling in his enthusiasm. your mouth drops open as he laps at you, swirling his tongue in practiced ease as he slides two fingers into you. 

minho climbs over you, petting your hair a bit as he strokes his cock to fullness. he taps it against your mouth, sliding it along the wetness on your bottom lip. you don’t know what to focus on - the heat building up from felix’s hands and mouth, or the flushed cock that’s taken up your vision. minho doesn’t give you a choice when he guides himself into your mouth, taking advantage of the way your tongue was lolled out to thrust in shallowly. 

they use you from either end, and you lose track of time by the second time you’ve come onto felix’s mouth. you’re shaking and moaning around minho’s cock, the soft praises and deep moans he’s letting out hitting your ears like a melody. he holds your head in place when he buries himself deep and comes into your throat, fingers tangling into your hair. you choke a bit, tears escaping your eyes, and he wipes them away with the pads of his fingers. he climbs back off the couch, leaning down to coo and press a few kisses to your forehead and cheeks when you come again, almost blacking out as your eyes flutter to the back of your head.

when you come back, he’s standing over felix and helping him sit up. the younger looks just as fucked out as you are, and you don’t understand why until he sits back against the couch cushions.

“oh, lix,” minho tuts when he sees the wet spot in felix’s sweatpants. “made a mess of yourself?”

“sorry, hyung,” felix says sorrowfully, but the mirth in his eyes tell you that he isn’t sorry at all. 

“don’t be sorry,” minho swoops down to kiss him in an open-mouthed, sloppy display. your juices are still covering felix’s mouth, and minho moans when he tastes you on his lips. “i want both of my kittens to feel good.”

bite me.

a/n: you give in to the urge to bite minho, and quickly learn why that wasn’t a good idea.

warnings: contains smut - MINORS DNI. pet names, reader is called good girl, orgasm denial

the first time you do it, it’s really because you can’t resist the urge. you’ve been thinking about it lately, about biting his skin outside of leaving hickeys all over him just because you can. he’s sitting with you, your body curled up around his side as he reads a novel with gold rimmed glasses on his face and -

you can’t stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his bicep, the part you can reach right under the sleeve of the tight workout t-shirt he’s been in for the past few hours.

he looks at you with a side eye, quirking a brow at you as if he was amused. he very well could be, you’re sure you make quite the vision with your teeth still locked into his skin as you drool a bit. he goes back to his reading once you detach yourself and go back to playing games on your phone, and that was that.

except, it wasn’t.

it hits you again when you’re grocery shopping for dinner, right in the middle of the dairy aisle while he internally debates which non-dairy milk would make the best sauce for the pasta he’s chosen to make. he looks so cute, pretty lips pursed into a pout shrouded under the hood he has pulled up over his head, small tufts of hair peeking out around his eyes. you’re already standing so close, your head is practically over his shoulder and you lean in a little more and let your teeth latch onto his muscle. you mostly get a mouthful of hoodie material, so you bite just a little bit harder and he yelps a little, shuddering under you.

you let the material leave your mouth, spitting out bits of lint and frowning at the dryness. he looks at you as if to say it’s your own fault, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“really?” he says, his face stern but his tone teasing. “in public?”

“mm,” you admire the wet patch you left on his shoulder. “couldn’t help it.”

it’s his own fault he’s so biteable, is what you don’t say.

the last straw breaks when you’re washing dishes together after dinner. he’s soaping and you’re drying, and he’s teasing you with small flicks of water in your direction every time you turn. you retaliate by swatting him with a towel several times until he takes it from you and says he’ll finish it up himself if you’re going to be silly.

silly. as if he didn’t start it in the first place.

you resort to wrapping your arms around his waist from behind as he works, enjoying the flex of his abs whenever he has to scrub particularly hard at a certain spot. his neck is right there though, and you can’t be blamed for the way your mouth moves to bite at the vein there. this isn’t the first time you’ve bitten him today, but it is the first time he reacts to it.

he turns abruptly, ripping himself out of your arms as he calmly dries his hands with the towel you were using to swipe his ass earlier. he puts it down, stalking towards you like a predator.

“so you want to be playful tonight, kitten?” he says as he backs you up against the counter behind you. his hands come to brace either side of you. trapping you in place, and you’re mesmerized by the way the veins pop in his forearms. his eyes are dark, hooded and almost dangerous, and you can feel your own pulse skyrocket. “bad kitties get punished, you know that right?”

if he were a cat, his claws would certainly be out.

he dips in for a kiss, looming over you and making you arch your back to keep up with him. it’s deep, dirty, his tongue is prodding at your bottom lip and you can’t do anything else but let him in. his hands move to your waist, fingers digging in just right and he bends down a bit to hike you up onto the counter and you moan into his mouth and take his bottom lip between your teeth and -

he stops.

a whine claws out from the back of your throat and you stare at him in annoyance.

“you just can’t stop, can you?” he says, clicking his tongue while he looks at you in pity. his voice is sharp and mocking and it sends flames licking up your spine. “pretty baby can’t even control herself.”

oh. you bit him, again?

“in front of me.” he orders, guiding your body away from the counter to lean against his, your back flush against his chest. you can feel his hard-on against your ass, but he makes no move to do anything about it.

you gulp - it’s sinking in that this does not bode well for you.

he pushes his hands under your shirt, hands smoothing their way up your stomach to reach your breasts. he fondles your breasts a bit, pushing out a moan from you and you tip your head back to rest against him.

without warning, he pinches both of your nipples hard, making you gasp and double over. or, you try, but his strong arms keep you locked into place while he unrelentingly squeezes your skin between his fingers. it burns, the sensation taking over your entire body, making your eyes roll back.

“feels good?” his voice is dark and low and sickly sweet, right in your ear. you moan in response, squirming to get away. he squeezes harder when you don’t answer, and tears begin to prick in your eyes. “i asked you a question, didn’t i?”

“y-yes!” you push out, salty tears slipping out when he relents and lets go, rubbing at your stomach in an apology. your breath is trembling and your legs are shaking, and his touch grounds you as you calm down.

“are you going to be good now?” he says, hands drifting down towards your waistband. your breath hitches as you nod; it’s his way of asking are you okay? should we keep going? do you want to stop? “that’s my good girl.”

he nuzzles your neck with his nose as he pushes your pants down, fingertips creeping into your panties. his other arm comes up to wrap around your chest, and you reach up to grip at his forearm.

he starts slowly, parting your folds and sneaking his digits inside, the wetness you’ve accumulated helping them slide along your clit. you breathe out a moan when he circles around it in teasing circles, the pressure light against you.

“f-faster,” you croak, voice hoarse, “harder.”

you’re surprised when he actually listens. his fingers almost flutter with how quickly they work you, and with how turned on you’ve been since this started you’re close already. you clutch harder at his arm, moving it down and it brushes against your nipples, still sore and sensitive from his brutal treatment earlier. the feeling sends you over the edge, and you’re riding out the waves of pleasure and grinding down against his hand as they crescendo. you breathe harshly, waiting for him to stop moving his fingers so you could relax and bask in the afterglow of your orgasm.

except, he doesn’t stop. he keeps going, with more fervor than before, fingers moving to dip inside of you and curl into your heat at a brutal pace. he knows exactly where to move his fingers, knows the contours of your body better than anyone: a blessing and a curse. you can almost feel the smirk he’s wearing against your neck before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

you’re shaking in overstimulation, the feeling almost too much, on the edge of painful, until it slowly morphs back into burning pleasure. you’re panting against his skin, nails digging into his arm as you hold on for dear life. you don’t feel any part of your body that he isn’t touching, can’t feel how hard you’re holding onto him, can’t feel your bare feet on the floor. you feel your high coming up again, too much too soon, the lack of control leaving you reeling as he takes what he wants from you.

until he stops. again.

“no!” you cry out, slumping against him as the waves of pleasure weaned back. you let out a sob, utterly confused and desperate, in need of something. he slaps your pussy lightly, one, two, three times, punching cries out of you with every strike.

“oh, baby,” he croons, “you didn’t think your punishment was done, did you?”

lovesick (I)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 5.9k — warnings: yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, harrassment, mention of violence/bodily harm, 18+ — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late. — amazing cover by @leithold​!

Next

Your foot is throbbing – again.

You fall back into bed, lifting your leg up to rest it over your knee. You wince as you examine the damage, purple and yellow bruising covering your swollen ankle. Lightly pressing around the area, you’re relieved to find that it only seems to be slightly sprained.

You glance over at your bedside table as your alarm goes off again, the framed picture next to your phone catching your attention as you silence the shrill sound. It’s a photo of you and Heejun, your next-door neighbour turned best friend. This particular one was taken on the night before he turned eighteen, your grinning faces showing off the pure excitement you both felt at the time.

Ever since you were little, even before you met Heejun, you’ve always dreamed about meeting your soulmate. You’ve lost count of the endless nights you stayed up imagining what kind of mark you would find once you woke up on your 18th birthday. Your favourite was always discovering a note written on your arm – the same as your parents. A close runner-up was the countdown mark Heejun had, you always made sure to check in with him every day to watch as the time suddenly decreased or increased. You’ll never forget the day he called you, voice choked up with tears and joy as he told you he had finally bumped into his soulmate.

With thousands of different variants of soulmarks and new ones being reported every day, you always thought you would end up with something sweet, something fitting to the fairy tale you always wanted. You certainly weren’t expecting to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of a dislocated shoulder and forearm fracture sticking with you for weeks afterwards.

Keep reading

morals on sundays | myg

You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.

○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff

○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)

○ Word Count: 2,177

○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots

○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't

○ Post Date: January 22, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK

Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air. 

“How much time do we have?” 

Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear. 

“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”

“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move. 

“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.” 

“No.” 

Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders. 

“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi. 

“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?” 

“Nope.”

“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head. 

Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed. 

“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus. 

Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you. 

“You were too good for him.” 

Yoongi’s right. He’s always right. 

You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment. 

Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature. 

Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was. 

In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort. 

As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish. 

“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one. 

“Yes.” 

“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.” 

Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…” 

Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate. 

“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.” 

You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right. 

“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different. 

You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart. 

“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.” 

“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it. 

“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.” 

It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes. 

“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.” 

Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin. 

You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours. 

“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants. 

“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric. 

“These are his, too, right?” 

“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them. 

You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him. 

But you also love your ex. 

It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water. 

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good. 

Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes. 

“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough. 

“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples. 

“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.” 

Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is. 

Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper. 

“Not yet, though.” 

“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs. 

“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.” 

The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–” 

Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm. 

It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs. 

Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal. 

You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.

He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer. 

“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you. 

Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips. 

“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it. 

You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

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