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𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 | 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝘾. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗳𝘄𝗯, 𝗙𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿-𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗠𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗦𝗺𝘂𝘁 (+𝟭𝟴) 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜, 𝗗𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗘𝘅𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗗𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗦𝘂𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗗𝗼𝗺!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻, 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗯𝗲

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙂 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚

For the longest time, you had been quite comfortable viewing yourself as an independent career woman. Thank you very much. Many men had tried and failed to sway you from the retches of your passions and projects and passion projects, respectively -Changbin being onesuch romantic endevour that had failed to shine in the shadow of your work.

No amount of dick could keep you away from the studio, nestled in a stuffy booth with your notepad opened on your lap filled with slightly manic notes and lyrics.

No one truly understood that until him.

"Okay, yeah, no. I can't do this," You watched Changbin gather his belongings with incredulous eyes.

"You're abandoning me?" You screech, fumbling to take off your headphones. "We haven't even perfected the chorus yet, and you're abandoning me?"

Changbin's hair is in complete disarray as he types hurriedly on his phone, leaving you to watch from inside the booth. "While you re-record and re-record an already perfect record, my stomach has growled 5 times-"

You roll your eyes, "Binnie, food is for the weak. We can do this."

"I can't," He shook his head, evading eye contact as he pulled on his letterman jacket, effectively stowing away the view of his muscles and evidently, your will to work.

Changbin finally spared you a tired look as he said, "But maybe he can. You psychos can starve yourselves together."

It is only then that you noticed a figure haunting the open doorway. Changbin had conjured a brand new producer with wayward black curls with a single tap on his iPhone screen. The man lifts his hand in a passive greeting.

"Hiya," He had said, before taking Changbin's spot on the sonic board. "I'm Chan."

You had never met anyone as sonically obsessed as you are, until you were acquainted with Changbin's colleague. Bang Christopher Chan, would quickly become not only your disgustingly talented and driven producer but also a friends with added benefits. Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with your thoughts bleeding into unfamiliar and frankly perplexing thoughts of overanalyzing how attractive he looked when he runs his hand through his hair during spells of frustration- or when he got the incomparable burst of genius to freestyle over a beat as if it was a long lost friend. Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...

You couldn't retain satisfactory orgasms from your music, could you?

"What would really be sexy is if you added the last word of the verse, ad libitum." You're immediately brought back to the present. "So if you said 'cash' but with like a higher pitch in between the chorus and the second verse. I think that would be great," You realize you had taken to swaying in one spot and quickly correct yourself as you placed your hands on your headphones and nod, vaguely agreeing but never really hearing anything after the words 'sexy'. Hearing anything suggestive falling from Chan's plump lips at this very moment would send your imagination hurtling into the fiery pits of hell. Him, staring at you so intensely through the glass and behind the soundboard, left you unable to focus.

"Honey?" He says, with a finger on the intercom. "Do you get me?" He asks in a tone so sickeningly innocent it almost makes you feel guilty... until his next string of words.

"If you do, I'm gonna need to hear you use your words, okay?" With his eyes fixed solely on you, waiting patiently for your compliance, you are convinced he was literally and figuratively trying to kill you. It would be devastingly easy given that the two of you were the only two left in the studio. Zero witnesses.

"Sorry," You say, trying to dispute how heavily his words weighed down on you, "I'm thinking about all the babies that die in between you purposely using the words ad libitum instead of ad lib." Saving yourself with swift and easy rebuttal had always been a specialty...

"Sorry, sorry!" Said Chan, "Didn't know we were opting for plebian speak this evening," He says with a chuckle before waving his hand, "Continue."

But it was incredibly difficult to continue with your mind and all its unsavory thoughts seeping out of your skull and straight into your lyrics. Perhaps working on the more explicit songs with Chan had been an utterly dire decision, one that practically solidified your downfall.

As you rattle through the lyrics, you make sure to keep a firm gaze on him. Chan maintains eye contact from behind the glass, giving nothing away under his black cap, clad in his short sleeve black shirt and his all black attire.

The dimness of the studio suddenly feels too dim. This 'mood' that Chan had strived to create in the peroration of your session is suddenly working too well.

Soon, the track is being replaced by Chan's slightly gruff voice echoing in your headphones.

"Sorry to cut you off, baby girl," The coolness with which he utters the nickname releases a wave of arousal in your core, and you inadvertently cross your legs in front of you, "I just want you to take note of something for me real quick..." For a moment you’re only nodding slowly, waiting for him to continue, but he never does. Chan sits silently, staring at you with yet another earth-shattering, unwavering gaze. You're confused, which Chan would have found incredibly adorable if you weren't purposely being incredibly difficult this evening. Demanding artists were his specialty, but you presented an entirely new set of challenges.

"I said take of note of something for me, please." He finally lifts his hand, making vague scribbles into the air. His voice is strained, as if he's withholding himself from scolding you too visciously. In fear of not only your reaction but his in return.

"Christopher." You drawl incredulously, "You seriously want me to actually write this down?"

He only responds with a succinct, I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me, "Please."

You make a petulant display of rolling your eyes before sitting down on the single metal stool kept in the booth. His chuckles bleed into your headphones, disrupting your nonverbal tantrum when he says, "You really are trying it today..."

"Maybe if I had someone to correct this attitude, we wouldn't have found ourselves here, would we?" You mutter the sentence as you're staring into you notepad, completely evading his heated gaze. Silence grows pregnant between the two of you before Chan continues.

"Alright. I'd like you to take note of the brisk allegro that erupts in the pre-chorus," He spins his pen between his fingers as he reads from his own notes. He looks absolutely worn out and so unmistakably beautiful it makes you want to scream.

"I think that part in particular might be vital in solidifying the overall kick of the actual chorus." Not to mention, seeing him in work mode tickled your ovaries in ways you could never have foreseen. In the studio, you had always been the one wading through the laziness of others, picking up the slack where needed and making it your obligation to ignite your producers with the zeal to work with your meticulous ass. But Chan had turned the tables and for the very first time you find yourself unable to think about work.

"Christopher," You send him a bored expression, "I literally make slut music, do you really need to be calling it an allegro?"

He is quick in pressing the intercom to clap back, "Thots and sluts deserve a well mastered allegro too, don't you think?" You're only left to slump your shoulders as Christopher continues. By this point, you know that he knows exactly what you want for him, why you're being particularly difficult, why you were fighting him on every term but for some unexplainable reason, he's keeping you from it.

"So a dry signal is a pure unprocessed sound, like a vocal recorded as is, and a wet signal is a sound with cool effects on it like we did for 'Drive'."

You inhale sharply, raising a finger into the air, to which, Chan completely ignores you, keeping his eyes on his notes, his black curls brushing along his eyes.

"And if you're gonna say 'I could tell you something else that's wet' don't bother, because you'll only get muted."

Your shoulders once again sag, and you find yourself audibly whimpering into the mic. That quickly catches Christopher's attention, and you're left wading in the scrutiny of his gaze.

"Fuck, I can't work with you like this." He rakes his fingers through his wayward curls, forcing you to rub your exposed thighs under your miniskirt together for the umpteenth time. "Tell me what you need."

"You know what I need..."

He curses under his breath before sending a worried gaze over his shoulder and you realize you have won. It was custom for Chan to stare worriedly at the door, as if terrified that Changbin might storm into the studio, face crimson and finding his best friend not only fucking the object of his interest but dominating her.

"I've been rapping about dicks and vaginas the entire time, Chan, you can't tell me you're not a little turned on yourself at this point." You're quite literally the snake tempting Eve in the garden and he sends another helpless glance at the door before complying.

"A-Alright. Come out here for me real quick," this is what excited you most about Chan. Hearing the trepidation in his voice mixed with excitement and nervousness and his inmate, need to be dominant... it concoted a dizzying amalgamation.

"Where is this attitude coming from?" He asks once you appear by in front of his seat, inching towards him as if terrified by your own creation. He does not bother to get up, does not bother to tell you stand in front of him, in between his legs.

You just do.

It's as if he's saying 'Do what you want. You're your own person.' Knowing full well how effortlessly you tended to submit to him.

"And if I check, am I gonna find you wet?" Chan is slow to closing the notebook on his lap and putting it vaguely near the soundboard without ever taking his eyes off You.

You can see the dark half moons underneath his eyes, stabbing at, not only your arousal, but your innate need to just take care of him. His eyes remain focused on you as he moves to clamp his hand on your exposed thigh, watching your lips part ever so slightly.

"Consider this a brief, very brief recess."

"Yes sir," You had intended for the words to come off more teasingly than it actually did, but it runs straight through to Chan's dick and he's removing his hands from your skin like you have mustered the ability to spontaneously catch on fire.

"Fuck," he replies, sending one more gaze at the door before looking at you once more. With a shaky breath escaping through his lips, he looks utterly wrecked and completely conflicted. You let him wade through the motions without any input in fact, you just stand there, waiting patiently for his next command.

Christopher sits back in his seat, running both hands down his face before saying, "Fuck, alright. Take off your panties for me..." You more than speedily oblige as you hook your fingers into the sides of your pink laced panties, slowly dragging them down as you and Chan both watch each other with steel gazes.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," His resolve melts when his eyes skim down to the sight of your ruined underwear. He notices far too quickly that it's his favorite pair, eliciting another wavering breath from him as his other hand clamps around your thigh to pull you impossibly closer.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You can feel the warmth of his shallow breathing as he places his forehead on your abdomen, while he brings his fingers up to your lips.

"Open your mouth for me..." You automatically obey, bringing your mouth around his middle and index fingers. For a short while, he remains with his face hidden in your dress as you suck, almost petulantly on his fingers. Perhaps he feels a mixture of shame for enjoying this entire scene far too much, and soon, he feels he has to peel his face away from your dress to watch you suck so prettily on his fingers.

"F-fuck, baby," His voice is strained between a mixture of a coo and a moan as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, "My baby." His hands almost immediately delve underneath your skirts slotting them inside your drenched cunt. He is utterly ruthless as he sits on the edge of his seat, one hand claimed around your thigh as his fingers fuck in and out of you with absolute vigor. The man is utterly overcome with lust, sporting his own hard on in his joggers as he looks up at you and says, "Come on, baby... Say it for me, you know you want to."

His voice is dripping with sex and your mind is completely blown with pleasure as you throw your head back. It is a mystery how you're still standing, but Chan's grip on your hip is concrete.

"Oh God daddy- your fingers feels so good inside me, Fuck." He rewards you by letting his fingers drift over your swollen clit, racking another torrid moan from your throat as he begins to circle it with purpose. You clamp your hand against Chan's hunched shoulders, his face once again buried in your dress.

"I just wanna take care or my little angel don't I?" He's an incoherent, mumbling mess, his words as sloppy as the hands sliding against your clit, "But she makes it difficult when she's being a stuck up little brat," Your head is still craned back while his face is buried against your abdomen and it is as if you both cannot muster to truly see yourselves in such a depraved, animalistic state.

"You're squeezing my fingers baby- Fuck, is this how bad you needed me?" Chan finally cranes back to look up at you. His cheeks are ruddy and his hooded eyes are blown into saucers, "It's so fucking distracting having you so close to me."

Chan's cap is long gone, strewn on the floor somewhere with your fingers burried in his curls. You harnass your little bit of power to crane his head up at you, and he lets you- using this moment to speak directly into your soul. "You know when you're really needy like this, all you have to do is ask, baby. You know Daddy loves taking care of his baby, don't you?" You nearly cum then and there.

"Please daddy-"

"F-Fuck I didn't plan on fucking you today, least of all here. But I really need you right now, alright pretty girl?" Your body shudders at the loss of his fingers inside you, one more flick against your clit and you would have cum everywhere.

"Bend over for me, yeah? Mind the sound board though, baby girl." Chan finally rises from his chair, immediately cupping your face with his hands as he dips his head down to you and places a peck on your lips. "I just wanna feel my baby girl squirm around me-" that particular string of words have you whimpering incoherently as Chan crowds behind you, pushing you up against the desk. Your hands grip the edge, careful not to temper with any sonic equipment as Chan raises your dress lightly. His hand grazes your bare ass and you're sent reeling as your own anxieties begin to set in. You're made strikingly aware that you had never actually had sex in the studio. Lightly touching and horny pawing at each other is the most that has ever been achieved within these four walls but going all the way...

"Chris can we-"

"Shh- it's okay." He says, as if reading your thoughts, "It's totally fine, barely anyone's here. They all left-" while he coos in your ear, you feel Chan lightly push you further over the desk. "Holy fucking shit." His curses bring your mind to unholy places, being someone that rarely ever swears. Chan is absolutely far gone as he is quick to bring his cock out of his sweat pants until he eases into you without a second thought.

"I need you to call me daddy again." He admits as he begins fucking you with absolute fervour. His hand is on your hip, forcing you to take each and every inch of him.

"F-fuck," is all you're able to say as he bottoms out inside of you. Your walls contract around him, stopping him for pulling out too far, and only swallowing him deeper until the head of his cock is pushing up against a bundle of sensitive nerves deep inside your core. You're left to squeeze your own breasts as Chan fucks you from behind, lost in the haze of chasing his own orgasm.

"Baby, if you want me to cum quick enough, I need you to call me Daddy in that sexy fucking voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel."

"F-Fuck daddy you make me feel s-so fucking good. Only you can- Only you can make me feel like this," Your panting and your tits are bouncing as Chan begins to rut against you with little to no more constraint. He's attacking that inherent need that had been blossoming since the start of your session, completely wrecking you I'm search of the ultimate satisfaction. Chan's hands are as restless as his hips and his words flow like an angry river. You feel so tight around him. His perfect little girl.

Those words alone, playing in his head like a broken record have his cock twitching inside of you.

"No one slese can make you feel this good." His eyes are half crescents as he says, "Tell me you love me baby,"

"I love you, daddy- I fucking need you-" it is outrageously difficult to form a coherent sentence but Chan does not seem to mind. In fact, it appears as though he prefers it when you're a blundering mess. It affirms that he fucks you so good your smart little brain is simply unable to think about anything beyond the bounds of pleasure.

"Oh-fuck I'm going to c-cum" He exclaism behind you with eyes squeezed shut before forcing them open. "Where?" he asks in a solid yet wavering voice. You feel your own orgasm on simmering inside of you and youre utterly embarrassed to find that you might cum from being pounded by his cock alone with little to no stimulation against your clit. "Inside me, Daddy"

"Oh-god, oh fuck," Your words, the way you say it, your use of the honorific- it's makes him cum without him even noticing it.

Being so crudely filled up by him jump starts your own orgasm and it blazes through you like a million sun's burning in your core all at once. His cum completely fills your insides, too the point that it begins to feel too full. Droplets of pearly white cum seep out of your vagina and Christopher is absolutely enamored. "Jesus fucking Christ." He whispers, still watching his cum seep out if you.

"Language, Chris." You jest before craning your head back to look at his unimpressed visage and unruly curls.

"Back to work, baby girl." He taps lightly at your bum before pulling your skirt down.

"Chan..." you turn to watch him pull his cap over hus head once more before wiping his hands with wet wipes.

"Hm?" He says.

"My underwear." You say, scanning the studio for any traces of the pink material but coming up empty.

"Get back in the booth." Is all he says.

I'm way too subby for this

Thank you sososososo much for reading

𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙊𝙛 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

Song Mingi x Fem!reader

Summary: Your relationship isn't as vanilla as you initially thought

Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Honjoong as his own warning, Teasing, Mentions of Bruises, Possessiveness, Slight!Humor, Fluff, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, Marking, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, DUB/CON, Massive Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, No Aftercare, Breeding Kink Dom!Mingi, Sub!reader, fingering, PIV, Unprotected Sex, Slight!Exhibition Kink

HE MAKES ME SO DELULU

Hongjoong's voice is loud and frankly hyperbolic when he decides to disrupt the serenity in the dorms by screaming, "What the hell is that?!"

Your head jerks upwards from Mingi's hard chest, effectively ruining your once blissful rest under candle scented clouds as you stare wide-eyed at your boyfriend's friend. Hongjoong had promised to make himself and the rest of the group scarce on this bustling Friday night, leaving you and Mingi alone in the dorms while they partied up the peroration of the weekend.

But he is still here.

Blocking the view of the TV with his blinding Saint Lairent sequence and attire.

Your downtime, your only time, which was meticulously carved out of both you and your boyfriend's busy schedule is suddenly being hijacked by a crazily grinning Hongjoong, cupping the front of his mouth in apparent shock.

"Aren't you supposed to be gone?" Mingi mutters, refusing to spare Hongjoong a single glance as he swipes through his phone.

Your boyfriend continues in his duties as the big spoon on the wide sectional. His other hand, in its callousness and recklessness, is draped over your hip. Throughout his doom scrolling, Mingi's hand has slipped under your camisole and has taken to rubbing, slow circles along your soft tummy, gradually exposing the dark, purple splotches which caught Hongjoong's attention, just as he was about to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to be a human?" Hongjoong replies smoothly before gesturing vaguely towards your exposed abdomen, "When were you going to tell us you're an undercover vampire? I always had a suspicion, but now I know -"

"Jeez-" You stammer, fighting to force out Mingi's hand and pull down your camisole before Hongjoong could get a closer look. Mingi's hand is an iron glove as he pushes you down by your abdomen, effectively securing you against him.

Without looking up from his phone, he says, "He's in our business,"

"Damn right, I'm in your business!" Exclaims Hongjoong, "Did you see the state of those marks, man?! Honestly, I applaud you-"

Sensing Mingi's already glacial patience waning, by the firm grip across your abdomen, you attempt to salvage the conversation. Mingi very rarely felt like speaking at the best of times, even more apparent was his abhorrence for explaining himself and so you do it for him.

"They're just love bites," You attempt to salvage, but to no avail. "And anyway, I think you better get going, now!"

"'Love bites!'" Hongjoong mocks in slight acquiescence as he begins to make his way to the front door.

Despite the flurry of teasing that he had been attacked with, Mingi is still indifferent as he finally places his phone down. In fact, his hand returns to its designated spot underneath your camisole, resting along your tummy, with his blunt fingernails skimming the softness of the skin under your breasts "You love everything I do to you," He murmurs in your ear loud enough for Hongjoong to hear who finally disappears behind the closed door with another loud cackle. Mingi continues rubbing along your skin as he buries his head in between your neck.

"Show them too me," He says, "I like seeing them."

There is no reality in which you could possibly explain to anyone that the marks you sported underneath your clothes are a product of your desires. One glance at your body, riddled with bruises and love bites, would have anybody sick. To you, however, they were a prize.

"I wanna see them," Mingi says, having suddenly found his deep, fiery, sandalwood voice, echoing throughout the living room.

He begins to paw at anything and everything to get to one of his many marks he left on you and once he peeks over your side, and sees what Hongjoong saw, the flurry of blue and purple bruises meshing into the depths of your skin - it has his resolve snapping in earnest as he pushes you easily onto your back, as he moves to hover above you.

He had not always been this handsy or demanding.

You remember the softness of Mingi's hands your first night spent together. How he hovered behind your bent over frame, clenching his jaw as he eased his leaking cock inside of you at snail pace,

"I don’t have anywhere to be, Babe, take your time," you had joked with a lazy smile while Mingi's jaw ticked.

"Carry on with your little jokes and I might not be so forgiving," If only you knew that the further your pussy swallowed his dick, the more his patience was waning. His limbs ache with the need to wrap around you. Adrenaline from the earlier performance was still running through his arteries, heightening his senses. He needed to go quicker. He longed to fuck you harder. This gentleness was going against everything in his very nature. His body burened for him to make a mess inside you, clamp his hand around your mouth and fuck you in front of the greenroom mirror until you begged him to stop… until you would have the marks to prove it.

But he liked you too much

And he had never felt this way before.

And as his hand dug into your soft sides, he promised that he would never let his recklessness steal this away from him.

But you felt him twitch inside you, and you peered up at his brown eyes now squeezed shut,

"What are you thinking about," you had asked him softly, as Mingi began a slow rhythm with his hips- the tip of his cock barely grazing that plush bundle of need inside you.

"Don't worry about what I'm thinking about," He blew out a hot and heavy breath, "what the fuck are you think about? You're gripping me like a vice, you fucking slut," He did not mean to say that. He did not mean for the words to slip out.

Or maybe he did.

There is an immense burst of pleasure spanning inside him, having him rut just a little quicker inside you - inside his beautiful fucking slut.

"Fuck,"

"Holy shit"

A damn had been broken. A holy grail discovered as you watched Mingi and his slightly parted lips through the mirror. His cobalt blue framed eyes had snapped shut and a pained, completely fucked out expression overtook him. It had Mingi's cock seeking further, more violent entry, while your thighs framing his hips only locked tighter. The noise of post-perfomance celebration outside was no match for the bass in Mingi's voice that night.

"What are you thinking about?" All thoughts lead back to the present with Mingi presently stationed between your thighs on the big, open couch. Your breath is shallow as you reply, "Guess,"

A slow, almost proud smirk lightly peirces the end of his lips as he sits back on his haunches to splay a kiss against your steepled knee. Your eyes flutter shut as his plush, pillowy lips make contact with your skin, "Osaka?" He asks, voice as husky as it was in that deserted green room, where he forced you to take everything he had to offer while still wanting more.

"Osaka." You nod with finality, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as Mingi's kisses grew slightly more frazzled along your legs. Soon, you're gasping into the air as you feel his sneaky hand drift further and further along your inner thigh, like a serpent on a mission. He remains cool and collected on the outside but his bulge is raging against his sweatpants. It's the lack of immediate gratification on both ends that has your wetness seeping onto your underwear while you begin to paw helplessly at your breasts.

"You know…" Mingi's fingers lock onto your underwear, which he gradually pulls down. His kisses cease, and you frown at the skin-to-skin disconnection as your eyes flutter open, "Your skin is looking a little too boring down here. Not a single mark in sight," He peers up at you from between your rattling thighs with unmistakable innocent eyes.

You arch your back off the couch, already triggered by a deep wave of arousal as you bring your cunt to meet his hand while you reply through clenched teeth, "You can't… on my legs- They'll see,"

"You think I care if any of them see?" It is a question asked in darkened curiosity. You moan with ferocity as Mingi's fingers spear your aching cunt as his head tilts to the side, "You think I care if anyone sees how pretty you look when you're covered in my bruises like this?" He's completely sunken into his wayward domspace as his fingers drift in and out of you with complete focus and determination. You're a mewling, moaning mess as your fingers dig into his choppy dyed hair and you lift your hips to meet each and every obscenely cruel thrust.

"Another finger, Mingi, Please. I need m-more," he was wrecking you with middle finger alone, savouring the way your cunt gripped around him, imagining it was his cock. "Such a cute little slut," He mutters, almost to himself as he obliges and slowly sinks his index fingers inside your soaking walls. Your cunt is eager to pull his fingers in before pushing him out and pulling him in again. Mingi is utterly transfixed, watching you fuck yourself silly on his fingers until they're glistening.

"Lift your top," he says, "I wanna see you." You comply without fail, scrambling to lift your camisole until the cool air flows freely across your hardened nipples. Mingi's breathing becomes ragged when he lays eyes on your exposed breasts, and the dozens of little marks splattered across your torso. Some faded, some blending into the depth of your skin. It is the unevenness of it, the irregularities and discoloration that he put there, that completely blows the lid on his composure.

"Fuck, open your legs," you could not find it in you to tell him your legs were already open. All you do is moan from the loss of his fingers as Mingi crawls up against you. He palms his hardened cock through his sweats as he watches you play with your tits in the most lewd, most lascivious fashion.

"You like acting like such a little slut?" The depth of his voice, had you absolutely weak to the core, like the foundations of earth itself was being enchanted to speak. He knew how wrecked he could get you by simply speaking and it is his most coveted weapon. Mingi's eyes are hooded and glassy as he hovers over you, simultaneously forcing his cock through your wet folds while he looked down at you with fierce conviction.

You're already teetering on the edge as he begins to fuck you hard and rough while his 3 silver chains dangle from his neck, kissing the very tips of your nose.

"Oh- fuck, you're taking me so well," Mingi's voice is absolutely delirious as he pounds into you, his jewelery moving in tandem with his violent thrusts as he brings a hand down on your breasts.

"So, good, you feel so good," He repeats, rutting into you with the same urgency of that very first night you let him get this rough with you. His thrusts are sloppy and erratic as he splays a wayward hand on your inner thigh, prying your legs open to allow his cock to plunge even deeper. Mingi's left arm is beside your head, keeping him afloat while he experimentally brings a calloused hand around the base of your throat, testing. Your back once again peels off the couch as you bring a hand up to his wrist. "Fuck, oh my god-"

"Fuck, Mingi" He corrects, huffing and puffing above you as he urges you to nod along with him, "I want you to say my name, baby,"

"F-Fuck, Mingi," The words escape through pursed lips, accompanied by a whorish moan from you and a deep, rumbling groan from Mingi who begins to hump your cunt with urgency.

For the umpteenth time since you began, you are utterly breathless.

"My dumb little slut is taking his cock so well," Mingi's voice is hoarse as it cracks into a million pieces, "So fucking good,"

He watches with shallow breathing as another moan climbs up and out of your throat... He sends another mindless rut into your pussy, spurred by the knowledge that you are slipping into subspace right in front of him. "You like it when I call you my little slut?"

"Oh fuck-" Your own hips are restless as you lift them to meet his sloppy thrusts.

"That's not an answer," He says before squeezing the base of your throat in warning.

"Yes!" You say, once You're given the gift of breathing, "Yes, I like it when you call me a slut!" Unimaginable pleasure only multiplies as Mingi buries his head in the crook of your neck and bites. He is relentless on your skin- sinking his teeth and rutting his hips until the tip of his cock bruises your cervix. You're completely incoherent and so is he.

"Fuck…I love seeing- love seeing my marks on you baby," Mingi's eyes are half lidded as his lips hangs open, "Fucking love marking my slut and fucking her tight little pussy."

"Oh, fuck-"

"I can't stop," He says, with utter desperation in his tone, enough to have your legs shaking, ready to accommodate your oncoming orgasm, "I can't fucking stop so don't ask me to, okay? P-Please don't ask me to stop," Mingi's words bleed into one another and he feels free. Free to say what he needs to in order to build that well of lust necessary to push him over the edge.

He is so grateful to have found you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fill your pussy with my cum-" that is the only announcement needed before Mingi completely releases inside you. His words have you slipping into your own orgasm, screaming and clawing at the hand around your neck as your hips lift to milk everything out of him.

The air that settles is still profoundly charged and Mingi finds himself unable to leave the confines of your pussy, so he doesn't.

"I want you to show everyone these marks for me tomorrow," He whispers with his cock still inside you, "Can you do that for me?"

:/

230429 ©️ dowajuseyo0801

bonus: mingi's revenge <3 (cr)

omggg fellow south african <333 housewife's lament was a masterpiece and i will be rereading it during every loadshedding session. no but really, it is amazing. i love the banter, the reader is so witty and quick with her responses. i love her 💞 - Blueberry

Hey hun🥹💗💗

Thanks so much for reading. It always means a lot to me as a writer when I'm given feedback on the banter and dialog because sometimes I really question myself whether it's good or cringe :/

I hope I help you survive loadshedding, gyal😭

If I end up writing Ateez smut, that's none of your business, that's none of your concern

AHHHHHHHH guys it's so tough being a delusional sub because how am I gonna explain to my loved ones why the hell I'm giggling at my phone likeee.

I just freaking love how genuinely Jihoon coded the responses here are, like the writing is stoic but also kinda spicy LIKE HIM

THIS FED ME.

LIKE TRULY

When I read 'Oh the betrayal' I no joke giggled like a maniac into my pillow I'm not okay. I'm so in love with this man and this text fic literally cranked it up by a billion, ugh I need him

IneedhimIneedhimIneedhim

Needy boyfriend! Woozi x fem reader texts

A/N: to @mphountitled for asking so prettily that I just couldn't say no. We love a polite babygirl so here's daddy for you. I hope you like it! Feedback is very much welcome!

MDNI

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