First Two Were Sooo Good Im So Excited For The Rest!!!

first two were sooo good im so excited for the rest!!!

'Kinktober 2024' Masterlist ฅ^._.^ฅ

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune and @/adornedwithlight

Happy Kinktober!! The first 8 posts will be Member x Reader, the 2 after those will be Member x Reader x Member, and the last 2 posts will be Member x Member. The index explaining each day is under the cut!~

general warnings: all chapters are nsfw/smut

They will be posted ~11:00AM EST on the Red days!

🕷Main Series🕷

29 30 01 02 03 04 05

06 07 08 09 10 11 12

13 14 15 16 17 18 19

20 21 22 23 24 25 26

27 28 29 30 31 01 02

Index; (the other kinks will be filled in once the day’s posted)

Member x Reader

October 1 🕷 ‘Little Red’

Bang Chan ✗ Teratophilia | Size Kink | Stomach Bulge

October 4🕷 'Right Where I Want You'

Lee Know ✗ Dubcon/Noncon | Knife Play | Spanking

October 7 🕷

Changbin ✗ LIGHT Humiliation | ? | ?

October 10 🕷

Hyunjin ✗ Massages | ? | ?

October 13 🕷

Han ✗ Role Reversal | ? | ?

October 16 🕷

Felix ✗ Ahprodisiacs | ? | ?

October 19 🕷

Seungmin ✗ Hunter/Prey | ? | ?

October 22 🕷

I.N. ✗ Hatefucking | ? | ?

Member x Reader x Member

October 25 🕷

HyunSung ✗ ? | ? | ?

October 28 🕷

ChanIn ✗ Impact Play | ? | ?

Member x Member

October 31 🕷

ChangSeung ✗ Sex Pollen | ? | ?

October 31 🕷

MinLix ✗ Mirror Sex | ? | ?

s

and they were roommates!

{ 3racha roommates au masterlist } 《 masterlist 》

→ non-idol au! a series of one-shots taking place in a spacious apartment initially rented by Chan, Changbin & Jisung. But there's one room still available, and their building happens to be close to your workplace...

—American Whiskey { Chan x Reader (f) } —Soju { Minho x Reader (f), Jisung x Reader (f) } —Ice cold vodka { Hyunjin x Reader (f), Chan x Reader (f) } to be posted

—warnings: non-idol au, explicit sexual content, drinking, consensual & drunken sex, protected & unprotected sex. each work has/will have its own warnings! these works are intended for adult audiences only—minors DNI!

PLEASE PARTTWO OH MY GODDDJEH

DISCO STICK | ft. minho

Don’t think too much, just bust that quick. Or whatever those lyrics say.

— Pairing; Lee Minho | Lee Know x Reader

— Rating; E for Explicit

— Author’s Note; I’m unwell. Minho’s fat ass cock is always staring at me and I need to be lobotomized because of it. Also, @skzms and @hyunsvngs are to blame (indirectly).

— Warnings; frottage/dry humping, pretty much enemies to lovers, big dick!lino, lino’s stupid fat bulge, reader’s insane, hate speech (it’s mild, reader just tells lino she hates him all the time lol), banter, crushes disguised as loathing, lino gets blue balled a little (he’s a lil into it), lino is stern, reader is a brat!, uhm, i think that’s all!

“I hate you.”

Minho’s only mildly offended. You don’t look nearly as menacing as you’re probably hoping for. In fact, Minho thinks the furrow between your brows and the downturn of your mouth is rather cute. You look more like a sulky toddler who’s upset to find out that Daddy was right about the tooth fairy. Only, Minho’s definitely not your father, though he can’t say he’d be any bit turned off if your pretty lips fixed themselves to call him Daddy.

“I hate you and your stupid, big, fat cock,” you whimper, grinding your hips down angrily. “Are you even hard? Why’s it so fucking big?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, hands gripping your hips to help steady you into a rhythm. “It’s just the cock I was born with, princess.”

“I-Is it hard?” You ask, voice small. “M-Min.”

He feels his cock jump where it’s chubbed up, hardening steadily beneath the heat of your cunt. He wants to be nonchalant about it all, but you’re warm and whiny, all up in his space and forcing him to take notice. You hate him, huh? You have one hell of a way of showing it.

“It’s half mast right now, but if you keep moaning my name like that, I’m gonna be full grown before you know it.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, gripping into his broad shoulders. Your nails dig into his skin through the cotton of his tee and Minho wishes he were naked so he could wear your scratches pridefully.

“It’s so unfair! S-Such a big cock gone to waste.”

Minho snorts, choking on his own spit when you bounce on his bulge, glaring at him. You come down roughly and something about it sends electricity up Minho’s spine. You’re looking at him like he’s the worst human being alive, like he isn’t letting you grind your pussy all over him like a cat in heat despite the scathing words you speak at him. If he was fucking you for real, he’d have flipped you onto your back a long time ago. He would have buried his dick so deep in your guts that you’d feel him in your throat, unable to speak because it’d feel like his tip was nudging your uvula. Alas, he’s maintaining some semblance of control, respecting your disdain for him by letting you have your fun.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who’s trying to fuck me through my clothes,” he says, eyes turned downward, trained on the wet spot you’re making on his sweats. “Also, it’s a dick, not a po-go stick.”

“Shut up,” you cry, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth when his bulge stimulates your clit just right. Your skin is hot with embarrassment. “I can’t come if you’re talking; your voice is turning me off.”

That’s a real bold face lie if he’s ever heard one. Minho can feel your pussy clenching through the layers separating the two of you. That tiny hole of yours spasms every time he opens his mouth; how are you gonna tell him that his voice does nothing for you? You’re fucking stubborn, he thinks, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You’re such a damn brat, and boy does he salivate at the thought of putting you in your place.

He’s sporting a full erection by now, cock hard and aching against the heat of you. You shiver and grind down hard, rutting your swollen, achy clit against the thickness between his thighs. You hate that you know you’re going to come like this, quick and desperate in your enemy’s lap like some horny teenager.

“I—,” you hiccup, wet eyes staring into his own, “I’m n-not letting you f-fuck me,” you stammer, rolling your hips.

He aches with frustration, but he respects it nonetheless. Minho is a man of honor, even if his thoughts are criminal.

“I know,” he laments, brown eyes glued to you. He doesn’t want to miss it when you come undone. “I’m just a means to an end, princess. Use my cock however you need.”

“God, I hate you,” you say, but the watery sob that follows says differently.

Honestly, if he were a more delusional man, he’d say you were well on your way to being in love with him. Why else would you have fixated on his cock? Why else would you be humping and grinding on him like a wanton whore, babbling to yourself about how big his dick is? The sounds you make have him gritting his teeth, the ache is his jaw the only thing keeping him from latching onto your skin and marking you up. You look so pretty this way, sat upon his cock like you are. Minho’s not sure he’s ever wanted a woman so badly.

The closing of your eyes drives him feral, a growl working its way through his chest and up out of his esophagus. He’s not in control of himself when he wraps a hand in your hair, fucking his hips up right as you’re grinding down. Your eyes snap open and a warbling noise passes your lips, and Minho can’t help but pin you with his stare.

“Eyes on me,” he sneers, snapping his hips up, bulge pressing heavily against your clit. “If you’re going to get off on my cock, you better fucking look at me while you do it.”

“Minho,” you whine, blinking up at him in a daze, “I-I’m—“

“Yeah,” he breathes, dark eyes holding you hostage. “Come on it; go ahead. Be a good girl for once.”

The moment you shudder apart is the moment Minho feels his entire DNA sequence being rewritten down to the atoms. You squeal, high pitched and breathy, a wobbly sigh of his name that makes him feel raw and frayed at the edges. Lee Minho is not one to get caught up, especially with girls who claim to hate his guts. There’s certainly a first time for everything though, and he thinks that this might be the start of a beautifully horribly disastrous fling.

“Messy girl,” he teases, staring down between your bodies. “You’ve ruined my pants.”

“Shut up! You’re such a pig.”

You slide off his lap with a groan, righting your skirt and wobbling on shaky legs. He laughs, big palms warm against your hips as he steadies you. You glare, but it holds none of the heat you want it to. Especially when your eyes are quick to the mess you made, watching his dick twitch and dribble under your gaze, making the mess more prominent. Minho smirks, using his muscles to make it bob without touching it.

“I can fuck you real good, you know,” he says, low in his throat. “Show you what big dick is really all about.”

You blink, and blink again, lip caught between your teeth. It’s a bad idea. Fucking Lee Minho is a really, no good, rotten, terrible idea. You hate him, he hates you. On the flip side, dick like that only comes around once in a lifetime and you’d be a fool to let it slip through your fingers.

“You can’t come inside me,” you blurt out as agreement, “And this gets out to no one.”

“Sure,” he answers, giddy but honest, “Whatever you say, princess. Your pussy, your rules.”

“Good,” you nod, stalling.

Minho rolls his eyes. So much all that bravado you had ten minutes ago. That’s okay though, Minho’s sure he knows how to handle you now.

“C’mon,” he says, standing and grabbing your hand. “You’re gonna want to be in a bed when I finally blow your back out, but don’t worry! Foreplay first!”

“You make it sound so sleazy,” you groan, feeling your cunt drip in your panties.

Minho’s responding laugh is loud and ugly and you still hate him. A voice in your head that sounds way too much like Felix telling you that this a bad idea.

You follow him anyways.

© hyungszn 2024; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without my permission!

Han Jisung constantly being reduced to some lesser version of himself for struggles with anxiety/mental health, being rampantly feminized because he’s become 1/2 of the face of a popular ship within the fandom and consequently not fairly recognized for the sheer individual GENIUS he is; finally making a personal instagram and casually posting all the song covers he wants to, getting 3 tattoos in one session just because he can. Trusting us enough to share what the tattoos are on a fancall- sharing little tidbits of his personal life when he’s ready, and keeping things sacred to him when he’s still able to. Seeing him have this autonomy over himself and embrace the creative person he is and always has been is so, so refreshing. Maybe we’ll never know him beyond a killer instagram song cover, we’ll never see his baby photos or perhaps even bear witness to his first few tattoos. But we do know he cried 3 times watching the movie “Up”. And the little glimpses we get into his personality and his artistic vision as he walks this fine line between privacy and rawness as an idol are nothing short of endearing. I don’t know what was in those contract renegotiations, but he’s never seemed more like himself.

Han Jisung my multi-faceted muse. Do whatever you want if it means you’ll always be this fulfilled

SO SO GOOD

the ride ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis

+

original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says.  “I called dibs.”

“Too bad.”  You stick your tongue out at him.  “Learn to run faster, loser.”

Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car.   You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it. 

You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school.  You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift.  With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides. 

Just because of the weather.  Not any other reason.  Of course.      

You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat.  Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams.  He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything. 

And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side.  When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness. 

“Right then,” he says.  Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!” 

“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror.  “You have your presentation notes, right?  You don’t want to forget them.”

Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them.  You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt.  “I thought I put them in here.  Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan.  It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it.  You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt. 

“Silly boy,” you say.  “What should we do while he’s gone?”  You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs. 

Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue.  He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away.  He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh. 

“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip.  Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel.  You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.   

You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee.  He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat.  You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh. 

“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real. 

“Don’t—”  His voice breaks and he clears his throat.  “Don’t say my name like that.  You know—”  

“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh.  You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.

He visibly swallows, throat bobbing.  The redness has spread from his ears down his neck. 

“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush.   “We’ve been good so far, okay?”   If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good.  “You’re my – you’re my friend.  You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah?  Yeah… Yeah!”  He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket.  He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip.  “Don’t make this so hard,” he says. 

“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words.  A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans.  “Is it something I can help you with?”  You lick your bottom lip then smile. 

“Oh,” he says.  His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering.  “You really wanna play that game, huh?” 

There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes.  You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window.  You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart. 

Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you.  Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad. 

“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder.  “Are you fucking my sister!”

“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second.  “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”

“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing.  “You can do better, man.”

“Jeongin, shut up!”  You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.   

“All right, all right!”  Chan says, breaking you up.  “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay?  Okay.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite. 

Chan squeaks. 

Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.  

“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.

-

Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home.  When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.    

You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs.  It sounds more amused than frustrated.    

“Where’s your brother?” he asks. 

You shrug with theatrical exaggeration. 

“Right,” Chan says, starting the car.  “Got it.”

He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car.  That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong.  You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives. 

Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee.  At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh. 

“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road.  Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent. 

“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence.  Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee. 

Unlike this morning, he does not play nice.  You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching.   Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean.  He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit.  He never takes his eyes off the road.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand. 

“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again.  “We’ll see about that.” 

You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you.  Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie.  You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him.  He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness.  He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful.  Your body practically sings under his touch. 

“Channie,” you say, breathless again. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says.  “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah?  Always.” 

“Take care of me how?”  Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too.   This game has been escalating slowly over time.  You want more and you are starting to get desperate. 

Chan looks at you.  His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie.  He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again. 

“Fuck,” he says.  “I want to fuck you so badly.  You have no idea.” 

His words have a raw, honest edge.  He swallows, hard.  You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart. 

“Please,” you say in that breathy voice.  “Make me feel good.  No one else can like you.” 

You do not make it all the way home.  There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups.  Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers.  You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure.  It makes you both giggle.

Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mmm,” you hum against his lips.  You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair.  “Channie, please,” you say. 

He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly.  His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief. 

“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest.  He unzips the rest of your hoodie.  His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again. 

He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts.  He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket.   You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap.  Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt. 

“Let me,” he says.  He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you.  He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing.  Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him.  He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest.  “Fuck, baby girl,” he says.  “You know what you do to me?” he asks. 

“I dunno, Channie.”  You pout and bat your eyelashes.  “You better show me.” 

He laughs.  He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you.  You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you.  But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good.  You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan. 

“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside. 

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says.  His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment.  “That’s it,” he says.  “Have a little trust in yourself.  I know you can take it.”

His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you.   Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily.  It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire.  You know you will need him again, the way he needs you.  Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again.   It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you. 

“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath.  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

When he gets close, he pushes the seat back.   You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth.  He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name.  Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest.  You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation. 

“Fuck,” he eventually says.  He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face.  “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”

“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him.  He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness. 

You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you.  Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time.  Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.   

You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods. 

“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”

You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads:  My ride fell through.  When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me?  Thanks.  Sluts.   

hard thoughts; lmh

tags: dom!minho, afab!reader, fingering, hickies, smacking, ruined orgasms, reader is sort of a brat, use of “slut/whore”, not proofread just bored and horny

imagining lee minho fucking you in some alleyway behind a club after you tested his patience and flirted with the bartender.

“m-min- we’re gonna get caught!” you whispered frantically between minho’s lips. you could hardly call what the two of you were doing kissing; it was more like an attack, his teeth occasionally pulling at your bottom lip and his tongue down your throat.

he pulled away momentarily before harshly groping your ass cheeks that were barely hidden by your short dress and taunting him all night. “i don’t give a fuck,” he growled out. “i hope your little playmate finds us. he’ll see me fucking you better than he could ever try to.” minho used your hips to press you forcefully against his hard-on.

you rolled your eyes. “he’s not my playmate. i was just being nice to him,” you scoffed. minho glared daggers into your challenging gaze before he suddenly bent down to nip at your neck, a yelp escaping your lips. “o-ow!”

“then let me leave something to show off for the next time you wanna be ‘nice’,” he muttered, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. you couldn’t hold back the borderline pained moans caused by his marking, which only encouraged him to continue. his hands hiked up your dress, displaying your thin panties to anyone who might be passing by. without breaking away from your neck, two fingers slid underneath the fabric. minho rubbed your clit painfully slow, a harsh contrast to the way he was attacking your flesh. he only pulled away when the whole crevice between your jaw and your collar bones were painted a deep purple.

you didn’t even get the chance to complain about how much makeup you’d have to use to cover your neck before he turned you around and pressed your front against a wall. he landed a hard smack on your ass that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “i don’t wanna hear another word from you unless you’re begging, got it?” minho grunted into your ear, grinding his hardness against your clothed pussy. you whined in response, which wasn’t good enough for him. he smacked you again. “i asked you a question.”

“y-yes, got it,” you whimpered, yelping when minho swiftly ripped your panties down your thighs. his fingers slid into your hole that was definitely leaking your wetness, fucking your juices back into you. you moaned out as he thrusted two fingers in and out of you, hooking and splitting them in a rhythm he knew you loved.

“that good?” he hummed, his lips suddenly against the back of your neck. “you know, i don’t even think you know this pussy as well as i do. i don’t think you can cum without me, but here you are, flirting with every cock you see. such a slut.” his pace sped up, his other hand trailing down your front to find your clit.

“were you just trying to make me jealous? you knew this was gonna happen, yeah? you knew if you riled me up enough you’d be getting filled in the back of the club. this is dirty. you’re fucking dirty. dirty fucking whore,” minho spat out as your pussy throbbed around his digits, his words pulling you towards your orgasm. you were reduced to a moaning, blabbering mess in front of him: your cheek pressed up against some wall behind a building, practically naked for anyone’s eyes to see as he absolutely ruined you without stripping off even a piece of his clothing yet. he was right, this was dirty. but you loved every second of it.

“are you gonna cum?” he questioned, knowing very well the answer. you nodded meekly, feeling the pressure in your abdomen at its tightest. “you’re gonna cum? that’s funny,” he laughed out loud before immediately retracting his fingers right as you came, your hole clenching around absolutely nothing as you cried out.

“n-no, no no,” you whined, trying to press back against him in search for something to help you ride out your ruined orgasm. minho’s body swerved away from you, and you could feel his dark eyes just watching you cry out in frustration with an evil grin on his lips. you slid down to your knees, legs too shaken to hold yourself up. you turned around to face minho, your face scrunched up in irritation with tears pricking the corners your eyes. “w-why would you do that??”

“you’re lucky you even got to cum at all,” he barked out. he crouched down, grabbing your chin. he rested his forehead on yours, never once breaking eye contact with an unreadable gaze. “listen to me: we’re going home and you’re gonna make me cum until i tell you we’re done. then maybe i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock, but you’re not getting shit when you act like a stupid whore.”

he dropped your face suddenly, giving you whiplash. he waited for you to nod in understanding before he pressed a small kiss to your temple, momentarily breaking his dominant facade. he stood up and turned away from you, leaving you to collect yourself and sloppily chase after him as he walked towards your car.

as much as you needed a shower, sleep, and to get out of that tight dress, you knew you weren’t gonna get much of anything you wanted when you got home. it was okay though; you knew what you were getting into from the second you returned that bartender’s flirty smile.

a/n: beyond grateful for the likes and feedback on my last two drabbles<33 just felt like putting something short out for u guys, thank u for reading!!:)