Day 10 Four-letter Word

day 10 · 「four-letter word」

❝𝚂𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝.❞

➥ Coworker!Minho x Reader (f) — 3k

➥ The author chooses not to tag every single act to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to read at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

⚠ — Intense hate sex, impact play, choking, objectifying language.

➥ He thinks you’re a Granger level know-it-all. You think he’s a Malfoy level showoff. That tension is either going to resolve with a punch on his fucking beautiful face, or…

Excellent dinner at the Michelin-rated restaurant of a hotel out of the city. Everyone at the table sharply dressed looking fine as hell. Three men representing the potential client firm having a great time, laughing, drinking, completely clueless of the storm brewing in front of them because across the table the atmosphere was tense as fuck behind the saccharine smiles four people were flashing.

Everybody at work knew you and Minho were at each other’s throats every chance you got. It wasn’t some rival shit anymore, but more like you belonged to families with generations of blood feud between them, scheming, poaching, doing whatever was necessary to have the upper hand over the other. Even though your new CEO was alerted of the heavy beef between you two, she ordered you to figure your shit out and assigned you both as account executives since you and Minho had a rep for being the ‘closers’ of the firm.

This dinner was of vital importance. The clients in question were going to bring in hundreds of thousands, which meant a lot was at stake to endure a temper tantrum of you two, so you were strictly instructed to behave at all costs. Your direct supervisors were sitting on either side of you as babysitters-turned-bomb defusers, trying to conceal their nervous sweating to the best of their ability. They just wanted to get this shit over with as soon as they could so that they could go back to their rooms upstairs and ask for retirement or something the next day.

“Stop trying to fucking undermine me in front of these people,” you whispered into Minho’s ear, your perfect smile leaving no room to suspect homicidal intent, “We’re equals here.”

“You seem to think that a lot, but I’m yet to see you land an account yourself when I’m in the game,” he reciprocated equally quietly. His cheekbones were so charmingly raised that to an outsider it actually looked like you were classily flirting.

“God, I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

You couldn’t fucking stand the guy to the extent that you wanted to have a violent street fight with him no holds barred. Arrogant fuck thinking he was the shit, on your ass every minute of every day as if someone was paying him to annoy you.

“Well, Mr. Lee made one compelling case, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to resist anymore,” one of the three men reached for his glass, “Shall we make a toast for our new partnership?”

Your heart fell to your stomach, but you glued your cracking façade as much as you could and joined the celebration. Shortly after, you apologized for not feeling well, which technically wasn’t a lie at all, and politely excused yourself from the table so that you could go back to your room and scream into a pillow.

Mr. Lee? Mr. fucking Lee made a compelling case? It was your case that you built with your bare hands. It was your strategy that drove this whole thing home. All this motherfucker did was to manipulate the conversation so that he would be the one to get your points across, and Mr. Lee was the reason they couldn’t fucking resist?!

You were stomping in the hallway of your floor when you heard the ding of the other elevator and hurried steps behind you, and the scent of his cologne reached you before he could.

“Don’t even,” you pointed your finger at Minho menacingly, nostrils flared, eyes widened, pure rage written all over your face.

“Listen—”

“I’m not listening to shit,” you spat through your clenched teeth, “God, I wanna fucking punch you in the mouth!”

“Is your fist shaped like your pussy because I’m kinda into that shit,” he brazenly uttered, successfully managing to quadruple your fury.

“Fuck you, Minho!”

“Hey!”

He grabbed you from your wrist and trapped you against a wall so that you would stay in your place.

“Just when the fuck are you going to admit you have the hots for me?” he asked seriously, eyes a little squinted but with genuine curiosity in them.

“The fuck are you on about?” you retorted, exasperation dripping from your voice.

“I’m talking about this massive sexual tension we have,” his smirk grew wider, and you could feel the amount of venom boiling in your stomach with how annoyed you were, “You’re so fucking weak for me, your knees start shaking every time I walk into a room.”

“Out of anger, yes. I wanna roundhouse kick your stupid face!”

“You’re sure you’re gonna land that? You’ve been missing the point a lot lately.”

It was as if he was doing it on purpose. He wasn’t even pushing a certain button; Minho was straight up keyboard smashing at this point, and your rage finally got the best of you.

“Just what the FUCK do you want from me?!”

You had every intention of landing a heartfelt slap on that porcelain skin you couldn’t stand looking at, but all you could see was your hand stopped midair by Minho’s inhumane reflexes. You pushed him away from his chest, panting out of your nose, and all your blood was rushing to your face whereas Minho’s was rushing to…

…his crotch.

You thought your eyes were playing a trick on you for a second, but it was impossible not to notice. His raging hard on was quite literally staring at you, so much so that your attention was channeled to it in the middle of a frantic fit.

“Oh my god, you weren’t kidding,” you uttered in an eerily calm tone compared to moments ago, “You’re actually into that shit.”

The Lee Minho a.k.a the crassest and most shameless motherfucker you’d ever come across was getting flustered right in front of your face all of a sudden. He swallowed thickly as if he was getting called out about something drastically embarrassing, and now you had a theory you needed to prove.

“You go to such ridiculous lengths for it. You want me to get mad at you,” you squinted your eyes and took a step towards him, “You fucking get off to that, don’t you?”

“Stop that,” Minho threateningly uttered and started walking away to his own room right next to yours.

Oh, there was no way you were going to let this go. 

You followed suit after him with a maniacally content smile and started forcefeeding him multiple doses of his own medicine.

“You want to fuck the shit out of me, but you can’t bring yourself to initiate it.” 

“Stop it.”

“You want me to make a move.”

“I said stop it.”

“You hate how much you want me.”

“This is your last warning. Shut the fuck up before I blow your back out,” Minho turned around foaming at the mouth, but you weren’t exactly sure which one of the two possibilities that was induced by.

“Yeah? Or else, what, you’re gonna show me my place?”

“Yes, I will,” he gritted his teeth, eyes widening even more. 

His pupils were so blown wide that it was actually laughable. You let out a derisive snort and took three steps to reach your door.

“I’m right here if you want to obliterate me,” you taunted nonchalantly and faced him, “but it’s not happening if you can’t swallow your pride. I’m never gonna cave first.”

When you swiped the keycard on the door and pushed the handle down, you could almost hear someone doing a countdown in the distance as if some rocket was about to be launched.

Five, four, three, two, one…

“You fucking…”

Less than a second later, you felt Minho’s hand on your shoulder turning you around, and your lips were under fire by his. You yanked on his tie to pull him inside, and after slamming the door close, you started ripping clothes off of each other, not as a figure of speech at all. Buttons breaking, zippers rupturing, fabric tearing, biting, grunting, jaws clenching. Remove the libido, and you were actually having a physical altercation right then and there.

“Yes, having you hate me is the biggest fucking kink I have, you happy now? You’re so fucking hot when you’re angry,” Minho slammed you against a wall even though there was a perfectly fine bed right in front of him, “It’s fucking annoying how beautiful you are. I’m gonna absolutely dishevel that face.”

He had a pretty good head start by smearing your lipstick all over with how hard he was kissing you, sloppy, wet, adamant to ruin your makeup in full. You were groping each other everywhere, and the difference was so subtle—the line between wanting to bruise each other and not being able to get enough of one another was so blurry that no sane person would be able to discern it.

His grunts turned animalistically guttural when he finally felt your slick at his fingertips, absolutely drooling over how slippery it was already.

“You hate me, huh?” he hysterically laughed, “Then what the fuck is this?”

When he landed a slap on your pussy, even you yourself didn’t expect to moan that loudly. The obscenely wet sound it made, the pleasant sizzle that spread, the feeling of being desired in such a twisted way…

You loved this.

“Do it again,” you breathily demanded.

And Minho’s knees almost gave way seeing how much you seemed to enjoy it.

“You’re a fucking sicko. God, you’re so my type.” 

He slapped your pussy once more, then his hands started kneading your ass with his mouth glued to yours as though he was trying to memorize the exact shape of your lips, practically gnawing on them. You promptly felt a fuller impact on the supple skin of your hips, slowly burning in the shape of Minho’s palm.

“Rip me to shreds,” you snarled, craving something sicker to rush through your veins, but Minho’s hesitation was flashing all over his face.

“You can’t take it back if I start.”

“Do it.”

“You actually want to get yourself decimated?” 

“Fucking do it!!!”

“Then hit me.”

For a moment, you couldn’t be sure if he really meant it or not. The exact shade of doubt colored your eyes and forced a pause in your movements.

“I’m dead serious. Do it,” Minho put an end to your equivocation.

This was your chance to avenge everything that had ever happened. 

You mustered all the times he made your life a living hell, all the frustration he had ever caused you, and all the times he scored unfair goals within your palm and struck him on the face really hard.

You quite literally had daydreamed about this more times than you were willing to admit, so the satisfaction that coursed through your body was dizzying. Nevertheless, even in that darkness, how Minho started seeing red was so obvious, and that tinge of fear was pumping excess doses of adrenaline into your veins.

“Oh, I’m gonna wear you like a fucking sleeve,” he quietly hissed, barely giving you any notice to brace yourself.

One of his hands harshly wrapping a leg around his waist and the other aligning himself with your oozing hole, Minho rammed himself into you at full force, and stretching you was not even the least of his concerns.

“You deserve to get fucked in all your holes,” he spoke through gritted his teeth, “Maybe you’ll finally shut the fuck up!”

No mercy. Sharpest thrusts you ever felt in your life impaling you, full of rage, full of fury, full of fatal lust, just full, erasing the distinction between pain and pleasure for good.

You hated this guy. You hated his guts more than anything in this world. He was the worst. Worse than a raging criminal. Lee Minho as a human being was a pet peeve of yours.

Then why did it feel like he was completing you?

“You want me, too,” he slithered his fingers into your hair, “God, you want me so fucking bad. You’re dripping wet.”

Yes, you apparently did. You just had no idea how much up until this moment.

You wrapped your hands around his throat and sank your fingertips deeper when he yanked on your hair. He was still trying to kiss you, throbbing hard inside you as you were choking him. The tighter your grip got, the more aggressive his kisses became, tugging on the flesh until your lips were raw.

“I so wanna fuck that mouth, but I can’t let go of your cunt,” his voice came out somewhere between a whine and a grunt, “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

His thrusts suddenly turned more frantic, and he was hitting so deep inside that you could almost feel him in the pit of your stomach. Minho had reached a whole new level of frenzy that even if you wanted to put up a front just to mess with the satisfaction he got from dismantling you, you were physically unable to do it. Your moans were alarmingly loud, and if your supervisors heard you at this moment, they would be convinced you were finally trying to murder each other.

“What? What is it? Didn’t expect it to feel that good, did you?” he jeered, extremely content with how he was diminishing you into this panting drooling mess, “How does it feel having the best fuck of your life with the man you absolutely despise? How does it feel, huh?!”

It happened so fast that you couldn’t even process how Minho lifted you up and threw you on the mattress behind him. He stood tall right by the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over his shoulder, and started going to town on you. The only piece of skin you were able to reach was his thighs, and you were scratching them so hard that you were about to draw blood.

“It feels like the best kind of hell,” you answered his question with a grin on your face.

And Minho was gone.

You had never seen someone orgasm that hard before. Deep, husky growls coming so deep from his throat like he was in pain when in fact he was getting high on the most intense kind of ecstasy, his entire body convulsing, sweat trickling down his fantastic figure onto your chest, and his eyes squeezed shut as he spilled and spilled and spilled inside you. He came so much as if he had been saving all his load for you all his life, for this precise moment to fill you up, to watch it gush out of you like a thick coat of varnish over a magnificent work of art.

Partly due to how most of his strength was gone, partly because how his hunger wasn’t satiated at all, Minho dropped to his knees in front of you, salivating over how your cunt was sodden with him and throbbing for more.

“You’re finally where you deserve to be,” you propped up on your elbows and pushed his face into you, “Clean up your mess.”

You said Clean up, but Minho heard Get as messy as you can. He closed his mouth over your soaked folds and started circling his tongue around your swollen clit, ruining the sheets under you with your slick, his cum, and the coat of spit he was covering you with. He was lost in sheer rapture, sucking your soul out of you with his eyes closed, making lewd sounds of contentment while feasting on you to repletion.

“Not enough,” he licked a long drag from your entrance to your clit, “Not… fucking… enough.”

His slender fingers prodded your entrance and slid inside with absolute lack of difficulty, caressing the engorged walls while fucking his cum as deep into you as he could. His sucks had morphed into slippery glides of his tongue to get you to throb in his mouth, slipping in a sneaky kiss here and there while fingering you hard.

“Do it,” he spoke into your pussy like a desperate moan, eyes refusing to open at any cost to bask in this fever dream a while longer, “Let it go. Do it on my face.”

You clenched as hard as you could as he kept stimulating a dangerously delicious spot inside you, his tongue still at work on your folds, and you kept imagining the same thing over and over again to win this mental battle. 

Lee Minho’s face. Drenched with you. Dripping down his chin. Disheveled to pulchritude.

When he started moaning into you, you couldn’t take it anymore and completely let go, dousing all his irritatingly handsome features with your cum. Minho was in love with the perfect mess he created out of you, still kissing and licking every inch, risking a severe case of overstimulation, but it was worth it. He let you savor the concoction you contrived together with a kiss long and deep, much tamer than anything you’d done to each other thus far. 

It tasted like a seamless medley on your tongue.

It took a long while for both of you to cool down and come to your senses. Once the breathing sounds echoing in the room turned down to a humane rhythm, your voice penetrated the thick silence.

“Why do you hate me so much, Minho?”

He took one glance at you and got up from the bed, then put on one of the bathrobes in the closet in front of him.

“Haven’t you ever heard of boys pulling the hair of the girls they like?” he spoke with his usual annoyingly teasing tone while picking up his shredded clothes from the floor, “Get a fucking grip and open your eyes. I’m not gonna spell this out for you.”

Your heart fell to your stomach again as Minho left the room, but quite differently than the way it did earlier that night.

All this time, you were sure what you were feeling for each other was a four-letter word.

But maybe the vowel you had bought was the wrong one.

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

san castle

so, im alive.... ngl ive been working, crying over ateez and spending time with my sister, BUT im working on HDD again rn so ill be posting a chapter soon-ish... things have been pretty wild and i havent actually had much inspiration to be chronically online here lately. i didnt forget about yall though i promise

they really said “you top, i’ll bottom”

Don't say I didn't warn you.

It's Han Jisung (his hentai boobies + slutty little waist)'s era 🤷🏻‍♀️

Pretty Please - Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.275

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Rough Oral sex, Face-Fucking, Verbal Degradation, Hair-pulling, Name-calling, Praise, Manhandling, Facial, Cum-play, Possessive behavior, Sex on camera, Face-slapping.

“He needs to have you.

To see you under him and remind you of your place. “

smut under the cut

There’s something about him.

About Yunho.

It's probably the way he starts to undress when he's angry or nervous.

Not necessarily with you, but in this case, I imagine you may have made him angry or even jealous.

Maybe because he saw you talking to Seonghwa. You two laughing together and being so close.

He feels a little threatened, or more than anything, he's so possessive that he can't imagine or think of seeing you close to anyone else: you're his.

His, and only his.

You belong to him.

You've come home after talking and having a small fight in the car.

You know he's jealous, and you've already explained to him that he has no reason to be.

He trusts you, he really does.

Yunho would never think of you as a cheater or doubt the love that he knows you have for him. Still, it’s like an itch.

He needs to have you.

To see you under him and remind you of your place.

As soon as you step inside your house, you try to speak.

"Shut up," he growls.

You startle, but nod.

A faint "sorry" still escapes you.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Quiet," he retorts.

As he takes off his jacket and throws it on the floor, he looks at you.

His gaze so deep and dark that you can feel the weight of it on your skin.

"On your knees," Yunho orders you.

You fall on the ground.

You look up at Yunho from below.

He towers over you, running a hand through his hair.

He unfastens his belt. He grabs a part of it and uses it to stroke your cheek.

To caress it, and you feel the smell of leather filling your nose and making you dizzy with it.

It’s addicting.

Then, catching you off guard, he uses it to slap you.

You gasp and flinch.

You move your knees and get closer to him.

He unzips his pants. You watch, lost in every little movement he makes.

Yunho’s hands moving, his rings shining under the dim light of the room.

"M-more..." you whisper.

He laughs.

He does it while taking off his shirt.

Then, his gaze becomes much darker.

"What do you say?"

You gasp.

“P-please, more..."

He satisfies you.

He uses the belt to slap you again, and the shiver that runs through your body is so damn dirty.

So perverse, and you want more.

You need more.

Yunho reads it in your eyes as he rubs the belt on your closed lips.

Then, he grows tired of your silly little game. He wants more.

He needs more.

"Do you want my cock?" he asks.

You nod, grabbing onto his pants with your hands. You want it so much.

"Whose? Mine? Or maybe this whore would like anyone's cock, huh? Will any cock do, little slut?"

You shake your head, desperate.

Tears in your eyes, you deny it.

You deny it because it's only him you want. Only Yunho can have you.

"N-no! No, only yours. P-please. I only want you, o-only want Yuyu’s cock..."

He smiles.

He grabs his phone from the back pocket of his pants.

Yunho’s opens the camera, and you widen your eyes. You don't stop. You keep begging him.

"Your tongue," he says. "Stick out your tongue."

You do it. You look at him, your tongue out and drops of saliva running down from it.

He touches himself over his boxers, finally abandoning his pants to his ankles.

Then, he lowers them too. His cock collides with your face, hard and shiny.

The red and wet tip pulsates in front of your lips. In front of your tongue.

He holds the camera while, grabbing himself, he rubs his cock on your face.

On your cheeks, on your lips, until he slams it several times on your tongue.

"Kiss it," he orders.

You kiss it. You kiss his cock, licking it all the way. You go down, licking every part of him.

“Good girl. Show me how much you like it. Make out with my cock, slut.”


Yunho’s words sting you in the best way possible. They make your panties even wetter and your pussy even needier.

You follow his orders, because how could you not?

You lick it, you rub your tongue all over the shaft of his cock, making it as messy as possible for him.

"You’re such a fucking whore, aren’t you? Do you like it? Do you want it in your mouth?"

You nod, desperate.

“Then ask nicely for it,” Yunho grunts, pushing your head down.

“P-please. Pretty please, M-may I? May I have it?”

He doesn’t answer, he just forces the tip of it in your mouth and touches the rest of his cock while you keep him warm, recording the scene.

"Say my name. Look at the camera and say my name, princess."

You look up. Going back up his length, you repeat his name like a litany.

You beg him, telling him how much you want him.

"This mouth is mine, isn't it? Just a warm hole for me to fuck, little one. Don't worry," he whispers.

Yunho strokes your hair.

He finally sinks into your mouth. All the way down.

He pushes his cock against your tongue and down, until it collides with your throat.

"I'll fill you up, I'll fill this slutty hole up. Suck it, and don't you dare look away. Look at the camera while you choke on my cock, Y/n," you hear him moan.

It's all so damn dirty.

You gasp and moan.

You whine with your mouth full of his cock.

Your mouth stretched out, you feel the pain of it in you cheeks.

You take it all: you lick it and taste the salty flavor.

You let Yunho use you and let the tears fall from your eyes.

You never look away from the camera.

You put on a good show for him, clenching your legs as you think about him touching himself over the footage, or showing it to his friends.

He fucks your mouth for a while. Until he starts to feel pleasure slipping out of his control.

"Where do you want it? In your mouth or on your face?” he manages to say.

In response, you step back and stick out your tongue, using your hand to bring him to his peak.

He grabs your hair and pulls it forcefully.

It hurts.

It hurts so good.

"Say it. If you want my cum on your face, you have to ask for it like a polite little girl," he growls.

You tremble and his body is seized by spasms: he is close. So close.

"C-cum on my face," you plead.

You say it proudly, almost smiling.

"F-fuck!"

White spurts cover your tongue.

Yunho’s cock throbs in your hands, and he comes abundantly on your face, again and again.

It’s sticky and salty and such a comfortable weight on your flushed face.

It drips down your cheeks and lips, and you move your tongue to collect as much of his cum as you can.

He helps you: rubbing his thumb on your face and feeding it to you.

“You better not waste it, baby. I made it for you, didn’t I?” Yunho says with a fucked out expression and a smirk on his pretty face.

Every drop is fed to you and pushed between your swollen lips, and you drink it all.

When you’re all cleaned up and with a full tummy, Yunho turns the camera.

He kneels in front of you and kisses you.

"You’re the only one I love, you know?" you ask.

"I know."

Idk why but for some reason I really love your happy death day series, like the horror and despair it radiates while reading this is So Well Written! Though why did the skz kill readers parents? Like was it just a purge moment thing and then they got stuck on them, picking off their friends and making reader feel even more alone? Really good work though!

this is the best compliment i’ve ever gotten 😭 thank you so much!

i didn’t include it in the story to keep it more action based, but in my head, skz had a bad encounter with readers parents (they ran a huge business for security systems) and had gone to get revenge for a faulty one once they had denied service/refunds, saw reader and decided they just had to have her.

thank you so much for reading 🫶🏻