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sincerelyrki · 6 months ago

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tequila & lime

Heeseung only loved two things in his life. One was you, and the other was the taste of you.

pairing : exbf!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings + genre : drinking. rich boy! heeseung. mentions of killing people. kissing. suggestive. not proofread but it’s grammar approved TT.

wc : 1.1k

a/n : disappeared for a few days but i’m back🤞 anyways tequila is the only like… slightly good alcohol so it’s mine and my friends go to. i’ve had this in my head since i went out on friday and i finally found time to write it ^^

perm written taglist : @vousty

In a twisted way, you were to Heeseung what a lime was to tequila.

There was something about you, something he’d never seen in anyone else. His nights were filled with the shades of you, the neon lights blinding him as your alluring eyes blinked up at him.

He would drown in your attention, his eyes closing as you raised your wrist towards his open lips, the salt coating his mouth as you tilted his tequila back.

You’d be ready for his sour fill, the lime tucked between your lips as you used his hair to pull his face towards yours.

He’d keep eye contact as his lips closed against yours, the zest of the lime bitter on your tongue as he pulled it into his own.

His lips would leave yours for a minute, his teeth pressing down on the now sweet fruit, the peel falling to the ground as his hand wrapped around your neck.

But that was before.

Heeseung glared at you from across the room, his eyes burning as he watched the way you twirled your hair at the man above you.

Your knees sat crossed against each other, white knee-high socks glowing under the LEDs. Your back was leaned against the wall, plush thighs pressed between you as you sat on top of one of the pull-up tables.

His teeth ground together the longer he watched, a stale taste replacing the sour shot he had taken minutes ago. The burn of the tequila was rougher than usual, the lime tasting bitter without the taste of your lips mixing with it.

Heeseung could tell that you were aware of his gaze, the lime between your fingers being the telltale sign. The betrayal was stronger with the alcohol flowing through his body, it hurt almost as bad as it did the day he called your relationship off.

He gave into the expectations of the people around him, their sunglasses covering their faces as their Mercedes roared with life.

He broke it off with you soon after everyone had found out. And in the process, he lost the one thing he’d ever truly loved, well besides his tequila.

But even now, he hated it more than anything.

The glass from his hand shattered across the floor, his expensive shoes crushing the pieces even more as he stomped toward you.

His hand squeezed around the man’s shoulder, his elbow drawing back as he tugged him away from you. His other hand pulled back, his lips pulling into a satisfying smile at the loud crack that sounded from where his fist met the man's nose.

“Say aah.” Heeseung pressed his fingers against the bottom of your jaw, his eyebrow raised as he waited for you to follow his orders.

Your lips dropped open at his words, the lime falling from your tongue as he used his hold on your face to tilt your head down. “Good girl.” He cooed at you, his face nearing yours to press a small kiss against your earlobe, “don’t try that again.”

Heeseung purposely blew cool hair against your sensitive skin, his lips moving down to lightly touch against your neck. “I’ll kill him next time.”

Goosebumps spread along your body as your ex placed a single peck against your like point, fingers curling in your lap as you tilted your head to give him more space.

For weeks you tried so hard to hate the man, your friend's angry nags tuning out the second the memories of him came back.

You knew him better than anyone else, which was why you were able to tell that he was lying to you.

He told you that he never felt anything for you, that you were nothing but a warm embrace that he could fall into whenever he felt like it.

He wasn’t a very good liar, nor a good boyfriend. You could tell he was embarrassed by you, the secrecy and excuses add up.

But right now, you couldn’t recognize him at all.

Heeseung had never been the type of person to start fights, but he also wasn’t the type to drink himself into a blackout.

But things have changed since he’d last talked to you, he was spiralling.

Heeseung ignored the looks getting shot at him from around the room, his arm wrapping around your waist as he reached over to grab a new lime wedge.

He raised it to your lips, hovering as he waited for you to open your mouth for him.

He clicked his tongue as you stayed frozen, rolling his eyes as he used his thumb to pry your lips apart. “Bite down on it.” He shot you a sly smirk as you followed his orders.

He lifted the salt shaker towards you, the cold lid against your collarbones only setting the mood even more.

He trailed a line of salt along one side of your collarbone, winking at you before he placed the shot of tequila back into your hands.

His hands fisted your shorts as his tongue pressed against your soft skin, the salt mixing with the smell of your perfume causing his mind to go into overdrive.

His head tilted back as he controlled your wrist to go up towards his mouth, his mouth open as he poured the shot into his mouth.

You watched with wide eyes as Heeseung didn’t swallow, the tequila still in his mouth as he connected his lips with yours.

He swished the liquid into your mouth, his tongue pushing the line between his teeth as he bit down into it.

He knew that the lime no longer served its purpose as a chaser, but there was nothing he loved more than the taste of you.

“Swallow it.” His lips barely left yours, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallowed down the remains.

“Let me see.” you opened your mouth, tongue sticking out to show that you had swallowed everything.

Heeseung wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands pressing against your back as he held your body tight against him.

“Let’s go to my place, yeah?” At your nod Heeseung picked you up from the table, your feet barely reaching the ground before he began pulling you through the crowd.

His hands were taught, his restraint nearing its end the longer he waited for your touch. He could feel your fingernails against the back of his hands, his back lighting up in a phantom pain as he remembered the way you would paint his back with long lines of red.

Heeseung wasn’t going to let you go again, he wasn’t lying when he said he’d kill someone for touching you.

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hongism · 2 years ago

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29 - s.mingi - punishment + dacryphilia (18+)

» s.mingi x fem!reader » pwp, 18+ » language, mentions of drinking/smoking, explicit smut » wc 8.1k » link to masterlist » repost now that tumblr solved my tagging issues! fingers crossed everything works as normal now 🤞

smut warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, manual stimulation, oral sex: m, unprotected sex, facial, creampie, dirty talk, pet names: baby/baby girl/princess, crying during sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation

“So, you ever gonna tell me where you were last Tuesday?”

You can’t say that you weren’t expecting the question to come eventually, especially after you left Mingi with such a shitty excuse about not being able to meet up, but you expected to at least have a few more hours to get a story together before he cornered you here in one Choi San’s kitchen on a Friday evening. There’s an assortment of drinks spread out over the counters, no doubt in the fridge as well, but you aren’t after any of those goods in particular right now. Instead, you opt to simply snag water from the fridge and turn to face Mingi as you’re unscrewing the cap.

“Hm? What happened last Tuesday?” The quaint tilt of your chin does nothing to solidify your innocence, and Mingi’s sharp stare hones in on your face within seconds.

“You tell me, yn.”

Your lips part to prepare some sort of response, gaze trailing off to the ceiling as you piece together the excuse of a story. Mingi grants you that much, at least, even if it’s a show of how extravagantly you’re about to lie to him here and now. He leans around you as you’re gathering your thoughts, reaching for the counter and snagging a beer off it. You’d be impressed with his strength if you didn’t know that it’s the kind that screws off at the cap because Hongjoong has dainty hands that can easily be injured and he’s no good at opening bottles, thus San coddles him as such even when it comes to house parties.

“Well… I remember getting dinner with a few people. Didn’t drink or smoke anything because I had an early shift the next day. Then I went home.”

“Went home, huh?”

“We don’t typically get together on Tuesdays, Min,” you say between sips, arching a brow at the man who stands across from you. He pauses as well just to stand a little straighter and look you in the eye before arching one of his one brows — the pierced one that has a little black barbell poking through the skin — at you in return. His silence allows you a moment of reprieve, even if it comes at the cost of his staring so heavily at your face all the while. Still, you make no effort to conceal the way you drag your own gaze from his face down his body, taking in the ill-fitting tank top that has obscenely large holes cut out for his arms to stick through. You’d argue that it fits a bit better than it used to with how he’s been bulking up and putting on muscle these days, but you would also never give him the pleasure of hearing your appreciation out loud. He hears enough of it in the late hours of the night, three or four times a week as he has you pressed into the mattress in your apartment. The tank also gives you an eyeful of one of your favorite pieces in Mingi’s extensive collection — the snaking vines of tattoos that spread from his wrists up to his shoulders, dipping beneath the fabric and leaving much to the imagination. But of course, you don’t need to think too hard about what’s underneath when you see it as often as you do.

“What are you smirking about?” he questions, pulling your focus back up to his face before you can dip below the waistline.

“Thinking about what a lucky girl I am, that’s all.” You push off the counter to step around your friend, laying a hand on his shoulder as you slip between his body and the fridge to get past. “Got a big strong man all to myself.”

“That so?” He turns with you like his gaze is glued to you and can’t be separated even for a second. “Which one would that be?”

In hindsight, you should also have known that Mingi is smart enough to figure out little nuances and pick up on context clues when they’re presented to him. Thankfully, you have your back to him now so the shock doesn’t register on your face by the time you shift to look back at him over your shoulder. There’s a smile planted on your lips instead, one that you hope deters him for a little while longer.

“Look in the mirror some, pretty boy.”

You dip out of the kitchen then to rejoin the others in the living room, sinking to the couch cushions between San and some girl you’ve never seen before.

“Freshly rolled, milady,” San says through a dimpled grin as he lifts a somewhat sketchy-looking joint to dangle before your face. You’d decline if it were coming from anyone other than San — you’ve seen your fair share of sketchy and downright awful homemade joints come from his hands, but he is also the only one amongst your friend group who has the patience and tact to do it. (That, and you’re still vacuuming weed out of the carpet in your own living room from when Wooyoung and Mingi had a rolling contest that resulted in what can only be considered a horrendous fire hazard.)

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Hongjoong is sat on the other side of San, knees pulled up to his chest and tucked into the armrest as though he’s trying to make himself seem as small as possible. You barely get a glimpse at the red cup in his hands before San’s broad shoulders are blocking your view and you have to give up. The group tonight is quite large, more than the typically small get-togethers that you’re used to having with the others where it’s only eight or nine of you at most. San seems to have invited quite a few more party-goers this time around, which you hardly mind all in all.

“Can I crash in your room tonight?” you ask as San is in the midst of pulling a lighter up to the end of the joint.

“Mhm, just don’t get cum on the sheets.” His grin is nothing but cheeky, although that doesn’t keep you from whacking his arm with your free hand once he sets the lighter aside.

“Oh, fuck off!”

“I’m gonna be busy getting some on someone else’s sheets later so I won’t have time to police you about it.”

“You’re so nasty.” The man simply passes off the comment with a laugh, leaning back into the couch cushions with a dopey little grin that tells you he’s already hit a joint himself more than a few times tonight. As he moves, Hongjoong goes with him, stretching his legs out across the party host’s lap and letting San slump against his body. You snort at the minute show of affection and take a hit from the joint between your fingers.

“You’re the one—” San pauses to make a crude gesture involving his index finger and a lightly balled fist “—one of the two towers over there.”

Following the jerk of his chin isn’t too difficult, but you still regret glancing over in that direction because it means you make eye contact with the exact man you were trying to avoid in the kitchen earlier. Your stare flickers away too quickly to read as confident, and the only viable distraction within reach is San’s homemade joint. You aren’t too interested in getting too high tonight, just enough to get a little light and airy if anything, so as soon as you catch Wooyoung moving past the back of the couch, you pass the joint off to him before he gets too far away. Two hits will leave you fully lucid but any more than that and you’d be pushing the buttons on an emotional rollercoaster that you aren’t wanting to have in front of a bunch of strangers.

“Both… well, only once for one of them,” you mutter under your breath with the hope that Mingi hasn’t miraculously gained the skill of lip-reading.

“Is that where you were last Tuesday?” Hongjoong pipes up this time, pulling himself a little straighter to get a better look at you and you nearly hiss at him to keep it down.

“A lady never kisses and tells,” you say instead with a smile plastered over your lips. That has both men hollering in each other’s arms, one high and the other quite tipsy from the looks of it, but you’re happy to be their entertainment even if only for a few minutes.

“No wonder Min was fuming! Oh, I’d fucking kill to be a fly in the wall in that room when shit hits the fan.” San exhales a deep sigh, head tipping from side to side as he speaks. His laugh turns airy as he tips his body further back, sinking hard into Hongjoong’s body and knocking them both to the cushions. You don’t share in his amusement, however, as you turn to regard him with a furrowed brow and confusion etched across your features. Hongjoong notices the shift in your expression before San has the chance to.

“You might think about putting a muzzle on that one—” his gaze shifts as discreetly as possible to where Yunho sits “—‘cause he’s a little loose-lipped.”

Your lips draw into a tight purse, pulling to one corner of your mouth. You aren’t really upset about Yunho saying something — neither of you had an agreement on anything of the sort, and you’re smart enough to know how men behave at this point in your life. It is a bit funny though, in your opinion, for Mingi to be the one angry (undoubtedly jealous on top of that) when the two of you simply hook up when there aren’t other options available. You just so happened to have another option available last week, one that was quite hard to pass up on and very much worth the exhaustion and soreness that came the next day.

“Though, I suppose only the two of us know about what you and Min do when left alone.” When you shift to pass a half-hearted glare in Hongjoong’s direction, he’s wearing a shit-eating grin that makes you want to smack him even more. If not for the lengthy stretch it would take to get past the guard dog that drapes over him in the form of Choi San, you would certainly go through all that trouble just to yank his ear a little. Instead of dealing with that, you push up from where you’ve crammed yourself on the couch and move to step around the furniture — not without kicking at Hongjoong’s foot as you pass just because it’s within reach and San is out of it. That creeping lightness coming from the weed is starting to sink into your bones and make you feel everything a little more intensely. “Remember not to mess up the sheets!”

You don’t turn to see if Hongjoong catches the middle finger you send his way, but you do make for the stairs solely with the excuse that you have to use the bathroom planted at the tip of your tongue if anyone asks. Of course, that comes as a shroud to the real reason you’re headed up there, because you know someone will follow and you expect nothing less from him anyway.

The two of you follow a rather simple formula when it comes to parties like these, which is part of the reason San and Hongjoong both know about what you get up to at these events after having been caught in various corners of the house by both men multiple times. And while you are more than willing and able to mess around with the man without anything in your system, you like fucking Mingi best when you’re a little high and can feel every sensation that much more with him. You linger at the top of the stairs before heading straight for San’s room, pausing on the landing to angle yourself over the railing and peer down the flight of stairs as you wait for your companion’s head to pop up. He comes quicker than you expected him to and with a good deal of determination to his steps that makes him look entirely suspicious on all accounts.

“Everyone is gonna guess what we’re up to with you marching up here like that,” you drawl from your spot at the railing, chin coming to rest on the wood as you speak down at him. Mingi hesitates midway up the stairs, and his chin tilts up to find the source of your voice. Despite the grin playing at your lips, he doesn’t return the humor with even a small laugh.

“Good, then maybe they’ll get the hint,” he snips back.

A sigh escapes you, and you turn your head until your cheek presses into the wood. Leaving one hand to dangle by your side, you bring the other up to stretch over the length of the railing. Mingi walks up the rest of the flight of stairs, rounding the edge of the landing with a hand that skates over yours with a barely-there touch. You hum in the back of your throat. He tilts his head to match yours, and although the angle should be wholly awkward and nothing else, you feel that familiar thrum of arousal boiling deep in your gut when he meets your eyes. The sharpness in his tone doesn’t match the way he looks down at you — you know that much for certain, and you can safely take that as a hint that he’s not nearly as upset with you as he is with Yunho.

“Did you do it on purpose?” he asks nonetheless. He’s fishing for an answer you don’t have, but you can’t deny that there’s some sick part of you that wants to play into it and see how possessive he can get. “To make me jealous?”

“Hm.” You pull yourself back into an upright position a little too quickly, and the rush of blood to your head coupled with the tingling in your nerves makes your vision swim some. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” Mingi moves back to prop himself against the wall opposite the railing, and you make the pointed (and extremely difficult) decision not to eye the tremors in the muscles of his arms as he tugs them across his chest. As your eyes sweep over his torso to focus on his face once more, you shift to let your back rest against the wall the railing provides and secure your hands behind you on the lip of it. “He offered, and I accepted. Simple as that.”

“Simple, huh?” He makes it hard to not give into a wandering gaze when he’s drumming his fingers along the inked skin of his forearm. “Except he’s supposed to know you’re off-limits.”

“I can’t sleep with other people? Maybe I missed the memo that said we’re exclusive, Min.”

“You can sleep with anyone with you want,” Mingi starts, pulling his head forward a little as his gaze turns fiery, “but my best friend can’t sleep with you. And he knows that. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Then that’s not anyone I want, big boy.”

“If he offered, then he’s the one who presented the opportunity.”

“Maybe he was trying to get you to be a real man.”

“A real man?” Mingi echoes, and now his lips stretch to form a grin that displays his teeth. You dip your chin down with a laugh, hand subconsciously coming up to hover over your face. When you blink back up at your companion, he has his tongue pushed between his lips and teases the corner of his mouth, a gesture you know to read frustration. You smile despite yourself. A glint bounces off his tongue and reflects the ball of metal that sits caught between his teeth. “Didn’t know you could be such a brat, angel, you’re usually so good and pliant when I’m fuckin’ you into the mattress.”

“You could try asking Yunho then, princess, I’m sure he’d love to answer any questions you might have given how mouthy he’s apparently been.” Some part of you realizes that you’re pushing your luck perhaps a little too far, but if Yunho is going to talk himself then you believe yourself to have every right to do the same as long as it benefits you. “Did he tell you how he fucked me? How many marks he left on my body? If you look hard enough, I bet you could find some leftover ones.”

“Look, doll, because I know he called you that thinking it was charming—” Mingi shoves himself off the wall and takes a single step in your direction, but that’s enough to have you pulling yourself straighter and swallowing around nothing. “You can let yourself believe he fucked you nice just ‘cause he’s got a dick nearly as big as mine, but you’re up here with me, looking to get fucked by me, and testing me and my patience so I give it to you better than he could ever hope to. But you can keep playing that game and scamper on downstairs to his lap if you wanna. I’ll wait.”

“You know I won’t do that, Min. Not when you’re offering so sweetly like this. But I appreciate how willing you are to let me have whatever I want.” You drop your head to the side and glance down the flight of stairs that’s at your back. There’s no one there — not that you expected there to be — but this shroud of privacy you have with the man can’t last that long when so many people are in the house right now. You aren’t as high as you’d like to be, not as much as usual, mostly because Mingi is making your thoughts clear up bit by bit with each step he takes in your direction. It’s wholly distracting while also keeping you honed in on every little shift in his muscles, from the twitch of his fingers around the railing as he closes in on you to the twitch hanging about the corner of his mouth. “Should I take you up on your offer the way I did with Yunho?”

“I’m a jealous person, darling. If you’re gonna want me, then you’re gonna have to want me the most.”

You let him minimize the distance between your torsos, feeling his feet stop short of yours as he leans over you with the height advantage he has. That alone is a bit dizzying solely because it lets you get an eyeful of his inked arms all the way up to where those strands of tattoos dip under the baggy fabric of his shirt and where his muscles shine through the most.

“Why don’t you look in the mirror, huh?” You push a pout onto your lips as you speak, brows drawing into a tight knot that’s hardly serious, but it makes Mingi’s harshness falter nonetheless. “Showing yourself off like this, how am I supposed to know you’re not trying to get some other girl to want you?”

He catches your bluff a moment later, unfortunately for you because you had hoped to let the charade linger in the air a little while longer, but it turns favorable when he pushes the point of his nose under your jaw.

“I can want you the most, Mingi,” you continue still. Your voice is airy like you’re already out of breath, accompanied by a sweet sigh that makes Mingi nuzzle into your warm skin even more. “Shall I prove it?”

“I shouldn’t give you what you want so easily,” he murmurs against your neck. One of his large hands sweeps up from the railing to move across your collarbone, skating over the skin and up your throat so he can cup the point of your chin and dig his thumb into your lower lip. Your teeth graze his nail but never fully latch onto the digit as he tugs harder at your chin. “Should tease you the way you teased me, but I can’t do that.”

“Do you have other plans for me then?”

Mingi pulls up from your neck at the question, eyes finding yours without hesitation and digging deep into whatever emotion you’re hiding there.

“Oh angel, I have a whole number of plans for you tonight. It’s just a matter of whether you’ll be able to go that many rounds with me.”

You huff out a laugh, partially out of disbelief, and push your tongue between the parted line of your teeth. Mingi pushes his thumb up against the tip of your tongue then and nudges his way into your mouth with little to no resistance on your part. It’s a heady sensation, letting Mingi take over like that, but it’s made even more delicious with the knowledge that you’re fully in control at the end of the night. Even now, you pull his thumb deeper between your lips to let it rest fully against your tongue, and that’s the only thing keeping you from smirking at him while you do so. When you pull off, it’s with a grossly wet pop that sounds far lewder than it should. Mingi’s neck is tinted pink.

“I should’ve done that downstairs for everyone to see, I’m sure.” As an answer to your quip, Mingi pulls his free hand up to rest against the small of your back. He tugs you away from the blunt edge of the railing, leaving you to throw a hand up between your bodies to keep your head from knocking into his chin immediately.

“I don’t want you putting on a show for anyone but me.”

“Now that’s a red flag if I’ve seen one.”

“You gonna not fuck me because of it?” He seems to know your answer without you needing to say it, and without needing to watch the way your eyes roll to the side as you smile. Still, you offer that much, if only because you know there’s a long list of red flags he could point out in return. Ever the gentleman, he doesn’t.

“I think every good girl wants a bad boy, at least a little. I happen to want you a lot.” He’s giving a marvelous show of restraint from your perspective because you can’t imagine a time when he’s gone this long without claiming your lips, but he forgoes that gesture in favor of pulling you to the opposite wall. Your body hits with a soft thud, barely an impact with his hand blocking most of the pressure he gives by nudging a thigh between your legs.

“That’s only applicable if you’re a good girl.”

“Am I not?” Your lip catches between your teeth as you pose the question, and while you’re fully aware of the answer to it, it still fills you with endless delight to see the way Mingi seethes at your audacity to ask such a thing. His hands come down strong on either side of your head — not threatening, but firmly in a way that sends a thrill of arousal straight to your gut. His thigh tenses where it rests between your legs, making it near impossible to ignore the flexing muscles that press right against your clothed crotch. You’re certain he feels it just as much as you do.

“You most certainly are not, darling.”

“What are you gonna do about it then?” His proximity makes it difficult for you to move at all, but when you start inching along the wall in an attempt to get closer to San’s door, Mingi moves like a man possessed, following your movements with his own. “Nothing drastic I hope…?” You sink your teeth into your lower lip, reaching around the edge of the doorframe to grab at the handle.

“I think you’d like it better if I did, yn.”

Your fingers twitch against the cool metal before closing around it.

“Maybe I wanna just hear if you’ve got any bright ideas in that head of yours. You’re usually quite creative with the way we do things, darling.”

“Nothing’s punishment to you. Not when you enjoy it the way you do.” He takes a step back to regard you with a sharp stare, one that is a little ambiguous in terms of emotion and leaves you wondering what exactly is on his mind as he watches you. Still, you take the chance he provides to slip in front of the door and pop it open, releasing the seal on the room and making the tension in the air spike. It becomes something even more enticing, a thing that’s not fully within reach as you have the out you were after, the metaphorical nail in the coffin to get what you’re after, and you know Mingi sees it as such himself because he drags his tongue over his lower lip and lets his gaze wander down your legs. “Would still love to make you cry on my cock though.”

You pause midway through the doorframe to eye Mingi’s expression once more. There’s a sadistic sort of grin toying at the edges of his lips as he looks back at you, dragging his eyes up from your body to land on your face once more.

“Think you can manage it?”

“I know I always do.”

There’s something dirty in the way he kisses you then, tongue breaching the line of your lips with no resistance on your part, and when his tongue presses hot and heavy against yours, you feel something clench tight in your chest. You like it best this way: when he’s rough, when he doesn’t treat you delicately and instead kisses you like it might literally be the last time he can get his hands on you, and perhaps that's what you missed so desperately with Yunho. Mingi knows your body like the back of his hand and knows how to push all your buttons and toy with your strings. Part of you wonders (and is very self-aware about it) if the reason you don’t let things go any further between the two of you is out of an innate fear that things will change if feelings were truly involved. Maybe if love was part of the equation, he wouldn’t be as willing to have you this way, or maybe you wouldn’t enjoy it as much as you do now.

When he pushes you back into the safe privacy of San’s bedroom, you loop an arm around Mingi’s waist and pull him closer into your little bubble of space. The door falls shut behind him quickly and quietly, probably an effort on his part to maintain this little bit of privacy you have. One of these days you have to hand deliver a bouquet of flowers to San for even allowing you access to his room like this, but also for keeping your little secret just that the way he does.

Those thoughts leave you quickly, however, as Mingi’s large hands start to wander lower and skate over the curve of your ass. You groan into his mouth when he squeezes your flesh in his palms. You take the cue to lift your leg along his. There’s a rush of goosebumps over your skin as his hand moves along the line of your hamstring to hook at your knee, and when he rolls his hips towards yours, there’s much more contact this time. The firm bulge of his erection presses between your legs just enough to tease — it’s not nearly enough pressure to bring you the kind of pleasure you’re searching for. Maybe that frustration leaks into your next movements, into the way you kick your leg back down and bring your hands up to Mingi’s tank to push him off you for a moment. His lips part from yours with nothing more than a thin line of spit to connect the two of you but even that doesn’t last long as you fight to change your positions. Mingi lets it happen with a growing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, barely flinching when his knees hit the edge of the bed and make him collapse to the edge of the mattress.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby,” he murmurs as you drop to your knees between his legs. A scoff leaves your lips.

“What’s it look like, big boy?”

He hums, hand coming up to comb over your scalp for less than a second before the soft touch turns to a firmer grip that holds you in place for the time being.

“Gonna let me fuck your pretty mouth, yeah?”

Your fingers twitch against where you’ve just let them rest on his pants. It’s hard to maintain the fight you’ve been showing up until this point simply because of how damn pronounced his cock is through those pants, and how fucking badly you want to feel him against your tongue.

“You can work for it, can’t you?” you counter through gritted teeth instead of giving in right away. Still, your hands move against the waistband of his pants and continue with their path to work them down enough to give you some access to his member within. The fingers in your hair hold tighter as Mingi shifts his hips and lets you slide his pants down to the floor.

“Thinking about my cock between those lips.” He sounds a bit dazed already, which would be a new record for you, but it comes with his hand traveling from the top of your head down to your mouth. It doesn’t take much for him to cup your jaw and press the pads of his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. He doesn’t pinch your mouth open as he usually would, even when you pull his length out from its confines. You’re just close enough to kiss the tip, lips staying firmly shut as you tilt your head to wrap your kisses around the side of him.

“You’re always thinking about that though.” You pout just a little; it’s hard to do anything else with the control he has over your face right now. Mingi’s eyes move from your face down to where his cock rests against the curve of your lips. His other hand comes up from the mattress to take the place of the one he just had in your hair, and this time when he pinches your cheeks, your lips part just enough to welcome the leaking tip of his dick into your wet heat.

“Then open wide for me and lemme have it.” You ought to be ashamed of how hot and bothered his voice gets you, something so simple yet incredibly enticing on every level, but there’s no denying how the deep timbre of his voice sends heat right between your legs. You take him deeper into your mouth as his hand falls away from your cheeks. The one in your hair remains although it’s moreso there for him to simply touch because he clearly has no intent on doing any work himself. You don’t mind necessarily, taking your hand to wrap around the inches of his cock you can’t quite fit in your mouth without breaching your throat.

His next groan is much louder than the last little sigh of pleasure he let out, and it comes with him tilting his chin to the ceiling and leaning further back. You watch his movements carefully even with your mouth now fully occupied and hard at work. It’s equally intoxicating to watch him succumb to arousal and pleasure, and although the idea of him blindfolding you and just using his voice and hands to get you off is very enticing, you think you would miss seeing his face contort in pleasure the way it does now. You hollow your cheeks along his length as you pull up, barely stopping at the head of his cock before dipping back down to touch where your hand grips him.

Despite the lack of effort to fuck your mouth, you can see how he’s desperately trying to keep himself from doing exactly that. His lashes flutter as he blinks down between his legs to catch a glimpse of your lips stretched into an ‘o’ around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” You slip further down on his length, cheeks sucking in around him. “On your knees, taking my big cock like that.” A harder, more pointed suck as you dip your thumb down to trace over the sensitive skin of his balls. “Baby.”

His moans turn almost guttural as you continue until you give him a moment’s rest and tug off him to press your nose along the side of his cock now. You paint his skin with little kisses along the way, tracing over the places you’ve already touched with your tongue. It feels a bit like your nerve endings are being set on fire when he takes both hands to your hair and guides your head back to take his cock into your mouth. The first upwards thrust of his hips is gentle enough: testing and prodding at the limits as well as your well-being before he drives deeper into your mouth. Shock overwhelms you merely because of how quickly he flips the switch on you, and if not for the hand you smartly kept in place at the base of his cock, you would surely choke on his member without warning.

“Don’t wanna cum yet, but fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanna cover your pretty face in cum, wanna ruin you.”

All you can do is moan around his dick and hope that it’s an answer enough for him.

“You like it, princess? Want me to make your makeup run—” he thrusts hard enough to nudge into your throat, and your throat constricts around his tip by sheer instinct “—and mark you nicely with my cum?” Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes already just from the sheer force of his cock hitting the back of your throat, but there’s also this antsy frustration that is building up in your gut from going this long without any relief of your own. You want him to touch you desperately at this point, so much so that you take it upon yourself to retract a hand to settle between your legs and press against the sensitive nub of your clit through your underwear. Even that slight bit of relief feels so heavenly that you whine around Mingi’s cock. Eyes squeezing shut, you let your jaw go slack as he continues to use your face and work your fingers over your clit until the wetness seeps through the fabric of your panties. “You’re so fucking good, yn, letting me use you like this. Look at you getting off on it too. Like getting used that much?”

A breath of pause in his words where he inhales sharply like he’s weighing what he wants to say next. It works to his advantage because his next statement hits you like a ton of bricks, sharp and pointed and spoken with irrevocable confidence that makes your thighs tremble.

“Knew he wasn’t good enough to please you properly.”

Your moans get louder in volume only because he pulls his cock from the wet cavern that is your mouth but you’re still dazed enough to leave your lips hanging open as your fingers move faster against your cunt. Mingi doesn’t knock your hand away from the base of his length but he wraps a hand over himself nonetheless and jerks over the wet path you left on him. The sounds are sinful as can be, wet and messy to match your equally-ruined expression.

“Close your eyes, princess.” You barely have time to do that much before hot ropes of cum are spilling out over your features, painting your face from forehead to chin with no real direction, and Mingi doesn’t stop until he’s milked his cock for all its worth on you. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

His large hands move to your body, lifting you off your knees with a ridiculous amount of ease, and while you don’t want to, you’re forced to stop touching yourself as he nudges you onto the bed without further ado.

“In me, Mingi, I want you inside—”

“Shh, gotta prep you first, baby girl, I ain’t that heartless.” Even with his sweet consideration, you whine like you’ve been eternally denied what you’re after, fists balling up around the comforter as you press your face into it. Mingi lifts your hips high enough to get you to brace yourself on your knees. It makes your skirt swoop forward, assisted of course by Mingi who shoves the material up over your ass without an ounce of hesitation. The new position is hardly inconspicuous in the slightest, and well beyond the realm of suggestiveness to the point where if any one of your friends were to come in unannounced, you would have no chance of defending yourself from their suspicions. You can only hope that San and Hongjoong both remember to deter anyone from trying to use San’s room for its bathroom because you well and truly don’t want to move from this position at all. The mere thought of Mingi having you like this, bent over your form as he drills into your cunt and pins your wrists to the bed is enough to make your core clench around nothing.

“Just—” you interrupt your own train of thought with a whine that breaches your lips without thought, and Mingi is the one to elicit it from you as he drags the blunt ends of his nails over your ass while tugging your underwear down. “Min…”

“I’m not fuckin’ you until you’re in tears, baby.” If that’s his version of punishment then you consider it to be only mildly effective because you’re frustrated and pent-up enough at this point to where you might just cry for the hell of it to soften him up a bit. But then his fingers come to brush through the line of your folds, skating over the wetness that’s pooled there, and without warning, he pushes two fingers into your fluttering hole. The haste with which he does so has you releasing a noise so embarrassing that you push your cheek further into the sheets in an (ineffective) attempt to hide yourself from Mingi’s prying eyes. “Gotta see you to know when that is, yn.”

You get an eyeful of his half-grin and the sharp curve of his lips, and that’s unfortunately enough for you to tilt your head so that he can see your face a bit better.

“There’s my pretty girl.” The praise goes straight between your legs, making you clench blindly around the fingers Mingi has pumping in and out of your cunt. He curls them at the second knuckle at the same time and prods deeper inside you until he pushes up against the spot that really makes your head spin and vision go blurry. He pays such close attention to that spot that you hardly notice it when he slips a third digit into you. The sole infuriating nuance to his actions is how he doesn’t quite hit your g-spot the way you want him to: not with force or direct pressure. He merely teases the flesh around it, nudging closer and closer to it without quite giving you the satisfaction you want from it. Yet each time you open your mouth to complain about the treatment, he deliberately presses into it with one finger as though to tell you ‘see I’m giving you what you want, you can’t complain‘.

You have to keep your fists balled around the comforter to quell the shaking in your fingers, but your whole body is trembling at this point with how many times Mingi has brought you right to the precipice of a mindblowing orgasm only to steal that heat away and focus on stretching your walls around his fingers.

“H-Haven’t you — Min… come on!”

“Hm? What is it you want, baby girl? I can’t read your mind.”

“Insufferable, you’re so annoying, I can’t stand you, you’re so — ugh!” Perhaps it’s his antics that pluck at your nerves like they’re nothing more than strings for him to play with, but the unending routine of getting closer and closer to your satisfaction without truly getting it reaches its peak as you sob against the mattress and finally let tears fall.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, yn.” You don’t bother looking back at Mingi’s face when he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, but you are vaguely aware of his other hand coming up to brush over the tears on your cheeks. That only lasts a second before his hand comes down to rest over where yours still clenches the bedsheets so tight that your knuckles bleed white. Another sob tumbles out of you as you feel the blunt tip of his cock pushing up against your slit, and your whole body trembles under Mingi’s weight right after. He sinks his length into you slowly, letting it fill you and stretch you as he pushes inch after inch into you. “Let go of the bed, baby, I’ve got you.” You do as told without complaint or resistance this time. Mingi draws your wrists up higher along the bed until they’re both perched closer to the pillows, then he settles his hips fully against your backside, draping his form over yours.

“F-Fuck me, please, stop — stop making me wait,” you say barely louder than a whisper because your throat already feels scratchy and overused.

“Of course, pretty angel, anything for you.”

The first real drive of his cock into you is maddening at best, a sweet slide of pressure and relief that makes you cry out louder than before, and he continues to build up a steady pace that fills the air with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. You aren’t at all surprised that he’s already hard a second time; he usually pushes you to the limit with how many rounds he likes to go. Equally unsurprising is the way his thrusts quickly lose their rhythm and turn into sharp, punctuated thrusts that threaten to knock your hips all the way down to the bed. He’s muttering quite a bit in your ear — things you aren’t wholly processing because you finally get to chase that sweet pleasure you’ve been denied all this time. You aren’t aware of how noisy you’re being either until Mingi brings a hand down to tilt your mouth closer to the sheets to shush you some. You take it in stride, for whatever that’s worth, and simply clench tighter around his dick as he seeks the angle that will make you see stars.

A white-hot pleasure sears through your system with enough force to make your back curl and have you writhing under Mingi’s weight.

“Got it,” he murmurs behind you, sounding insufferably proud of himself, but you don’t have it in you to chastise him for it. What you do do, however, is free one of your hands to throw it behind you, grabbing for his hip and trying to encourage him to keep at it for your sake. He catches your wrist between his fingers before you have the chance though, and rather than pushing it back to the bed, he simply pins your arm behind your back and uses you as leverage to fuck up against that spot along your walls over and over again.

And in your defense, you don’t usually cum so quickly but he’s been teasing you and riling you up for so long at this point that you don’t find yourself embarrassed in the slightest when your walls start to pulse around his length. The euphoric pleasure is certainly worth it too, the release you were after finally sending shockwaves through your system until your toes curl and your neck hurts from the angle you’ve got it tilted at. Mingi keeps at his pace, only slowed a hair by your cunt squeezing tight around his cock, and he shows no signs of being close behind you until you’re back to sobbing into the mattress. Your core can’t keep pace with the drives of his cock, clenching and fluttering at odd intervals while Mingi chases a second high to pump into you.

“Gonna cum, baby.”

“In — inside, don’t you dare pull out.” Spoken through gritted teeth, you sound a little angry but also choked because of the tears that are still leaking out of your eyes and onto the bed. You aren’t sure if your tone is what pushes him over the edge, but you do catch the glint in his eyes as you inadvertently glare over your shoulder at him, and your only thought is that it’s simply another exciting facet to explore with him later.

His orgasm finally comes, to your relief because it means your cunt finally gets to break from his ruthless pace and the obscene stretch around his length, and it comes with a string of colorful expletives that are spoken through broken groans. You echo his groan albeit very much so not in the same kind of pleasure he’s experiencing as his weight fully collapses on top of you and nearly knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You’re so—”

“Go again?”

“No. For once you oaf, no,” you whine from under him, twisting your body as best you can like it’ll help your case. Mingi has enough energy to laugh, a full and throaty noise that always makes your heart somersault, then he’s peeling his body off yours to let you breathe easy again.

“Was I too rough?”

“Nooo, no, you were so good, Min.” His hands are already wandering to turn you over onto your back. “So fucking good, if I had the energy, I’d want you to do that several more times.”

“Yeah? That so?” He’s laughing again, either at your drawling tone or at the way you curl your arms and legs around his body to get him to lift you off the bed.

“You got cum in my hair…”

“I’ll wash it out for you.”

Showering is a feat in and of itself that you’re almost too tired to accomplish on your own, so when Mingi slips in behind you midway through and finishes washing your skin down, you’re more than a little grateful for the help. Not enough to get on your knees on that tiled floor, but grateful still.

And as is routine at this point, the two of you stumble back to San’s bed in a dark room, tangling yourselves in the sheets together like a perfectly mismatched puzzle.

“When you said maybe Yunho was trying to get me to be a real man… what did you mean by that?”

“Don’t push it, Min.” You can feel the man shifting at your back but the arm resting under your head doesn’t move, and he continues with the soft circles that he’s massaging into your skin with that hand. “We really did fuck though. It’s not some practical joke or just me trying to get under your skin. We fucked, and I liked it, but I didn’t like it the way I like it with you so I don’t think I wanna sleep with him again.”

“He remembered protection, right?”

“Yes, Min, of course he did. And if he hadn’t, I would have.”

Mingi huffs through his nose, a little indignant and very much dramatic, yet he seems to settle down just fine in the following seconds. Warm blooms over your head, a telltale sign of how close his face is to the crown of your head, and he twists his whole body to curl further around yours.

“Let’s keep at it then.”

Internally, you laugh a little solely because of how nonchalant Mingi makes it sound when the subject matter isn’t something as simple as that. Belatedly, you’re struck with a certain realization that makes your blood run cold and has you jerking in Mingi’s hold to look at the side of his face.

“What?”

“San said not to get cum on the sheets and you shoved my whole face in them!”

"It was just the comforter..."

"Just the comforter?!"

#mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #ateez fic #caly.writes

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