kpop_kinkmeme | Prompt Post Round 1

Entry tags:

prompt post

Prompt Post Round 1

CLOSED for PROMPTS | OPEN for FILLS

Rules

Please be 18 years old or over, or don't advertise that you're not; this meme will have adult content.
No bashing, kinkshaming, trolling, personal attacks, or otherwise being an asshole.
Post anonymously.
One prompt per comment.
Warnings for common triggers are encouraged but not required.
Prompts should have a subject line as follows: [group (if applicable)], [ship (if any)], [kink(s)].
Please don't use smushnames for ships without also spelling out the full names at least once.
Don't hijack a prompt, make your own.
Multiple fills for a single prompt are allowed (even encouraged!).
No meme policing. If there's a problem, please contact a mod; don't start wank.
Fills should have FILL: in the beginning of the subject line.
You don't have to add your fill to the AO3 collection, but it would be appreciated.
Please link images rather than embed them.
No underage prompts. This includes ageplay and aging down idols.

Rules will be revised as needed.

Links:

It's tough being the only omega in a group of alphas, especially when Yoongi's heat hits out of nowhere and he's helpless to resist his instincts and needy for the cocks of his alpha lovers.

Do wants: Breeding kink/mpreg, intersex omegas, knotting, multiple orgasms.

DNWs: degrading name-calling (ex. "slut", slurs), humiliation.

Established couple; one time, A bends over while naked, it's the first time B sees her butthole properly. She gets interested.

Can be gangbang, can be just one partner, I just want to see Jungkook getting absolutely wrecked. Prostate milking, sensory deprivation, subspace, restraints, ice play, wax play, pain play, edging, whatever. Just utterly overwhelm him until he's crying and begging for more or to stop, or both.

Then some gentle aftercare and comfort, as a treat.

A humps older member B's leg or thigh in the living room. Other members present optional.

It’s difficult to avoid a reticent glance. Yoongi can disguise it as the casual way his eyes usually wander. He has a guarded gaze, rapid blinks, and a tendency towards observation. Undoubtedly, Seokjin doesn’t assume it’s leering. The rosiness in Yoongi’s cheeks, he hopes, looks like embarrassment—not a flush of desire.

He doesn’t know which part fascinates him so much. Yoongi can’t imagine himself happy in either position.

It would be humiliating to lower himself the way Jungkook is, right now, submitting his body to exist in this warm winter living room cordoned off from a snowy January afternoon outside as a showpiece; or a glorified pet—groveling at the foot of his master. It looks like Jungkook agrees. A downwards tilt of his chin has pulled Jungkook’s silky hair over his face, and Yoongi can only see glimpses of his embarrassed expression. Seokjin said a few words and had the smart lights coating the ceiling dimmed when he came to sit across the coffee table from Yoongi. Jungkook trailed at Seokjin’s heel. Now, closed eyes cast shadows from Jungkook’s long lashes down burning pink cheeks. His thighs hug Seokjin’s ankle, and his arms are hugging Seokjin’s calf like it’s a lover.

Are they going to stop any time soon?

Yoongi blinks and adjusts his gaze back onto the man who is presently leaning to reach across the sleek coffee table—the same grey table that came with Yoongi’s similarly minimalist grey apartment in this upscale building in an affluent area that keeps the members of BTS close and cozy; dorms under any other name—and grab the can of sparkling mulberry-flavored wine he placed on it seconds ago. Part of Yoongi is convinced Seokjin is making a show of vacillating between holding his drink between elegant fingers and pounding it onto the table to flaunt how easy it is to move with Jungkook’s shivering body attached to his spread leg.

Even when considering Jungkook’s embarrassment, imagining himself in Seokjin’s position doesn’t appeal to Yoongi much, either. Seokjin is clearly enjoying himself. He’s manspreading valiantly, and he looked a little drunk or high or lustful when he met Yoongi at the apartment’s door earlier wearing a pastel blue hoodie and some jeans. It rankled Yoongi and made him snarl a bit to see Jungkook immediately appear behind Seokjin’s legs like a shy puppy. Seokjin could have pretended to care about Yoongi—and Yoongi alone—during this friendly visit. It’s not like Yoongi visits him often. And, right now, this setup just looks awkward. Or, boring. Or, perhaps, both. Whatever joy can be derived from somebody pumping their cock against your leg is found in some form of mutual pleasure. Yoongi believes that. Dry humping is an idea Yoongi savors, but he fantasizes that it feels best with some shared thrill of touch.

Yoongi veils a dry swallow by taking a sip of the canned beer in his hand.

Shouldn’t have let yourself start to think about it.

Visions are beginning to swirl behind his eyes. Gentle visions of petting Jungkook’s hair; at the very least. It's only polite to give the boy some attention. Yoongi imagines himself whispering down over Jungkook’s surrendered body to tell the young man he’s doing a good job. Building Jungkook's confidence would be important.

He can't imagine being so careless, so heartless, as his Seokjin is being right now. Jabbering about stocks he traded. Yoongi could talk the stock market all day. There’s somebody in this room gently rocking their hips off against his hyung’s leg, though. Yoongi finds it difficult to focus on anything else.

A mewl splits the air and Yoongi jumps. Seokjin lifts his head and glances down at the man who just whimpered like he was struck.

"Oh?" Softness suffused his voice as Seokjin tilts his head with a condescending smirk cast down at the kneeling figure still moving, tiny little shifts; pressing his hips into Seokjin's leg and rutting a shy tempo. "If you want it to be over quickly you should speed up. You're right doing well," Seokjin adds, as if as an afterthought, "you're doing exactly what I asked you to do." With that, Seokjin runs a hand through Jungkook's hair, and gives it a light tug.

That’s right… Yoongi’s mind cracks out commentary: That’s it. Pet the poor dog—

Yoongi gasps.

He can't help it—hypnotized by Seokjin’s tan fingers swirling into Jungkook’s ear-length curls of black hair, he forgets himself and, he realizes as his face reddens, forgets to temper the warmth tightening in his jeans with some little ice-cold self control.

"Hm?" Seokjin turns deceptively calm eyes up towards Yoongi. "Do you like seeing him like this?"

He gives Yoongi a smile of lazy camaraderie that Yoongi imagines is probably meant to be shared.

Yoongi is too flustered to reciprocate.

Another tug on the fistful of cuffed hair snaps Jungkook's face up, and, for the first time since he sat down, Yoongi can see clearly that Jungkook's dark brows are furrowed upwards in desperation. That’s what you get for moving so slowly, I suppose, Yoongi thinks cruelly, not out of distaste for Jungkook, but simply because he’s imagining himself in Jungkook’s position, and, he would have jerked his cock as forcefully as necessary to keep himself satisfied, humping like you’re afraid of making a scene… Ragged breaths stutter off Jungkook’s parted lips. His eyes remain closed.

"Maybe Jungkook can finish on your leg."

"...Huh?"

Lips hang open for a long moment before he can speak.

Yoongi knows he must look stupid.

A snap judgement pulls his knees together like that will pull his legs further away from the threat Seokjin just placed on them.

"N-no,” Yoongi stutters. “That won't be necessary."

“This will be a good learning experience for Jungkook. I told him he’d be my slave for a day if I beat him at Mario Kart.” Seokjin considers the man still grinding off on his leg as he releases his hair and Jungkook slumps back onto Seokjin’s leg and wraps around it like a venus fly trap. “This foolish boy agreed. He’s been getting too comfortable… gaining confidence. We should teach him a lesson in obedience. His body doesn’t just belong to me...” Seokjin leans back into the couch and slow blinks with an almost adorable steeple of his fingers over his loose cornflower blue hoodie bumping and curling over his stomach. “Jungkook belongs to anyone who wants him.”

The warmth of Seokjin’s relaxed posture and his apple cheeks made rosy by horniness, or excitement, or a few cans of alcohol are sucking Yoongi in with notions of harmless fun.

Harmless fun offered by a pervert, of course.

But, Seokjin is an honest pervert. Principled. Half-lidded, deep brown eyes meet Yoongi evenly and offer an unguarded invitation. Despite flames of discomfort licking his ribs, Yoongi trusts Seokjin. Seokjin knows what he’s doing. And, disconnected from his ruminating thoughts, Yoongi’s cock just pulsed with an ache of heat. The condescension Seokjin poured over Jungkook’s head was bereft of the treacly fondness usually expressed in baby-talk and fuzzy offers of food and drink to their dongsaeng. Roughness in Seokjin’s quiet voice scraped clean a thin veneer of frustrated self-control Yoongi didn’t realize he was desperately trying to keep.

Yoongi needs to check into the moment. His only options are to play this game, or leave. He can put up or—internally, inside; quashing his internal monologue of indecision—shut up.

Plus, Yoongi is lethargic. Comfortable. Sinking into this plush leather couch that smells like Seokjin, warm and cozy, with some good beer. He’s settled by the genuine good mood that forced him to put on some clothes and walk out of his own apartment and hope to spend some time with his hyung. The plan was to order some takeout and play a game. That plan could still chug along into the late afternoon. He’s too settled to force himself to stand up and go home.

“Of course.” Yoongi can’t look at Jungkook. Although he knows Seokjin decides whether or not Jungkook will crawl over the oak floorboards and marry the heated crotch of his cargo pants with Yoongi’s brand new jeans, Yoongi can’t help but view Seokjin as a middleman. With his two sets of dignity on the line, Yoongi parleys with the man in loungewear with steepled fingers and slightly messy brown hair thrown back against the leather couch. “Um…” Yoongi swallows. He wants to say something important, or elucidating. Instead, he just stutters on the same idea. “O-of course.” Cringing internally, he already knows his face is going to be cherry tomato red by the time Jungkook is breathing on his knee and Jungkook’s soft, strong body is close enough for Yoongi to inhale that sparkling grapefruit perfume rising off the back of his bowed neck.

A nudging sound of encouragement leaves Seokjin’s sighing chest. Yoongi decides to take a drink and then lower his can onto his thigh to avoid watching as knees shuffle over the floor. Hoppy beer tastes especially clean and fresh when Yoongi’s whole body feels like it exists in a tangle of nervous thoughts at the back of his throat. Swelling pressure from Jungkook’s body wrapping around him reminds Yoongi that his skin is electric.

Idiot, Yoongi chides himself, don’t you know your legs are your erogenous zone?

“Uh…” Yoongi closes his eyes, breathes out, and stares down at his leg. “Thank you…” Uncertain of who he’s thanking, Yoongi trails off. He just felt the need to vocalize the relief that just washed over his body to the man that caused it. Painfully hot embarrassment floods up his neck and into the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes feel a bit teary. Yoongi ignores it.

There would be such a sweet security in having a loyal, obedient boy like Jungkook at his beck and call, waiting on his knees, wide eyes sparkling, patient for Yoongi’s soft-spoken command. If this were a private moment. For a split-second Yoongi’s gut feels empty, or false, to only feel Jungkook’s body this intimately at Seokjin’s whim.

A muted sensation hits Yoongi like a ton of bricks. Thickness. Firmness. Like is a pervert rubbing off on Yoongi in the train during those days before Yoongi pointedly started driving everywhere. This is preferable. This is almost sweet. If anything, it’s a jamais vu of teenage dryhumping he was too shy to fumble through.

Yoongi avoids looking at Jungkook. He blinks hard to cure the stingining in his eyes. It is’t sadness, or anger.

Yoongi is just easily overwhelmed.

As he gazes across the table at Seokjin, Yoongi watches those half-lidded eyes wander down to Jungkook; a pleasant sigh lowering Seokjin’s relaxed shoulders as he smiles and taps his foot onto the floor with a hollow ring and a casual abatement of energy. A firm line of attention stretches between Seokjin’s hands, and parted knees, and the impression of Jungkook’s thick cock sliding against Yoongi’s calf.

Yoongi can almost see their connection snapping through the air. It’s a shield of security. It’s forgiving Yoongi. He doesn’t need to worry about handling Jungkook perfectly. Seokjin is there for both of them.

Moving his head cracks Yoongi’s stiff neck. He glances down and to the side. Hair. Hips. Knees, and the upturned, lint-flecked soles of Jungkook’s opaque black socks where his feet are parted out behind his ass on the floor. A rhythmic shift of fabric; rutting hips that move artfully. Jungkook is a good lay. Yoongi can tell that just from watching the twitch of the man’s lower back as Yoongi traces fingertips over the parting of Jungkook’s hair.

This is better.

“Did you see the jokes people were making online?” Yoongi chuckles as he glances back up to Seokjin. “About GME?”

I’m not in either of their positions. I’m in my own position.

Locks of his fringe are curling onto the knee of Yoongi’s jeans. His knees are sharp, and unforgiving. Yoongi knows that. Unthinking, Yoongi slides his hand down to grasp the back of Jungkook’s strong neck, cups the base of his head, and guides Jungkook to press the pridge of his nose against a softer part of Yoongi’s thigh.

Re: Any, humping

(Anonymous) - 2021-01-15 04:18 (UTC) - Expand

It's the future, or something, one casual segment of v**ve is groups showing off the prettiest dick or pussy in their group. Viewers debate through comments or number of likes, maybe ask to get hard or wet. (You know, the "1 but vs. 2 butts discussion" kind of normal.)

Maybe they got drunk, maybe they've been pining for ages (unrequited or otherwise), maybe they got sex pollened. Take this in whatever direction you want.

I would personally prefer no OCs/reader. Other than that, go wild.

I'm picturing a period AU, like in Daechwita or something similar. Maybe Jimin's a noble and Yoongi's a peasant, or some sort of class difference in effect, where refusing advances isn't a safe option. Maybe there's pining involved too.

Rough sex with hair pulling is a bonus, as is any aftermath with guilt or conflicting feelings.

Idk if this is what you had in mind, but anyway!

There are several times, across the course of the night, that Yoongi catches the young lord looking at him. He’s used to eyes on him, of course, when they perform; he’s used too to people coming up to him when the festivities draw to a close and offering him a bed to share.

But nobles are different from that. The young lord watches Yoongi from behind his fan, from behind his lashes, and the invitation, when it comes, is no invitation at all. He’s asked to attend the young lord Park Jimin in his rooms, by one of those noble attendants who is still far above Yoongi in the world.

Yoongi thinks, for a moment, of refusing. It would serve this young lord right; if he can’t even deliver his orders himself, what sort of a man is he?

Except that Yoongi would rather not see himself jailed for pissing off a noble. And something else too: Yoongi would not have noticed the attention if he had not been watching the young lord too.

***

The young lord is waiting when Yoongi arrives. Is delivered to him, more like; the attendant introduces him perfunctorily, and Yoongi lowers himself to the floor like he’s meant to. But he can’t help looking, as this Park Jimin sets aside his book and unfolds himself from his slouch. He’s changed his clothes, since Yoongi saw him at the festival, but if these are his lounging clothes, they’re still more sumptuous than anything Yoongi has worn in his life.

‘Thank you, you can go now,’ the young lord says to the attendant, and Yoongi hears the man shuffle from the room; hears the door slide shut behind him.

And then it is just Yoongi and the young lord, and the steady glow of the lamp light.

‘Do you know why you’re here?’

‘I can imagine,’ Yoongi says, and he swallows. ‘My lord.’

Yoongi can’t tell from this angle, what the expression on the other man’s face is.

‘You can stop bowing,’ the young lord says. ‘Let me see you.’

Yoongi hesitates. But he wants to face the young lord too much to demure, and he lifts his head to look at him straight on.

There’s no more coy hiding behind fans now. The young lord has an expression on his face that’s not quite a smile – the sort of expression a cat might make, when it has a mouse by the tail.

‘I thought your performance was very impressive,’ he says.

Yoongi feels himself assessed, the young lord’s eyes drifting over his body, and lingering.

‘You honour me, my lord,’ Yoongi says, and he’s afraid that his voice doesn’t come out sincerely; he never can sound sincere when he needs to. The young lord smiles, a flash of his teeth that should feel more like a threat than an allurement, except that there is something in Yoongi that finds that enticing.

‘Well, I have to say that sort of thing,’ the young lord says, ‘just as you have to be grateful for it.’ It’s not, Yoongi thinks, leave to relax. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Min Yoongi.’

‘Min Yoongi. Why don’t you come over here?’

Yoongi shouldn’t, but he meets the young lord’s eyes. He’s wearing a smile: patient, indulgent. And like he’d be delighted if Yoongi were to refuse.

Yoongi moves toward him – not too close. The young lord will have to move forward himself, if he wants to touch Yoongi. Or give him another order. Suggestion. They’re one and the same.

He’s a little surprised when the young lord does move, kneeling forward in front of Yoongi. He places two fingers under Yoongi’s chin. He has delicate white hands.

‘Are you going to stay so obedient, Min Yoongi?’ He brushes his thumb over Yoongi’s bottom lip. A light touch.

‘Would you rather I didn’t?’ Yoongi says, a little too bluntly. But the young lord seems pleased.

‘I’m not sure yet,’ he says. Then he takes Yoongi’s head in his hand, and he leans forward and he kisses him. Slides his tongue in his mouth unhesitantly, and Yoongi allows it. Even when the young lord’s other hand creases in his shirt, and he practically climbs onto Yoongi’s lap. It’s a kiss like drowning. Yoongi should fight it, but he just wants to sink.

The young lord breaks away, one hand still fisted in Yoongi’s hair, and he looks Yoongi’s face over like he’s searching for something.

‘Fuck me,’ the young lord says.

It’s so completely not what Yoongi expects him to say that he actually does a double take.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ the young lord says. ‘You’ve got a cock under there, don’t you?’ And he grabs between Yoongi’s legs where Yoongi is already half-hard.

The young lord’s smile grows. ‘I knew you’d be amenable,’ he says.

That smile is infuriating, but it doesn’t go away when Yoongi tumbles him over on his back – if anything, it grows.

‘Is this what you want?’ Yoongi asks.

The young lord grabs onto his collar, yanking his face closer. ‘Don’t be a tease, Min Yoongi,’ he says. And he lets go. Looks up at Yoongi like this is a dare he doesn’t think Yoongi will rise to; looks at him like he will eat him alive.

And Yoongi pulls the young lord’s clothes open, layer by layer, until he can touch the bare skin of his waist. Now, the young lord just watches him – but from the flush on him, Yoongi knows that he likes the approach.

Knows it too, when he finally gets the young lord’s bottom layers off him, and sees the length of his cock already rising proudly. Yoongi gives it a couple of rough strokes; the young lord makes a low noise in his throat, almost a growl. Yoongi rubs his thumb over the head, which is damp with precome.

And then Yoongi spits on his fingers, and he pushes them inside the young lord’s hole unceremoniously. And his fingers are swallowed up; Yoongi rubs at the young lord’s entrance, and is rewarded by a moan.

He wonders how many men the young lord has done this with. Does he ask them all to fuck him like this? Certainly, his body does not put up the resistance Yoongi might expect.

He removes his fingers, spits again. Continues to stretch the young lord out. He’s so hard himself, already thinking of how the young lord will feel when Yoongi enters him. How hot his body will feel from the inside.

Yoongi doesn’t waste any more time; he pulls his own cock free. Probably a degenerate young nobleman like this has something better to ease the way than spit, but he doesn’t offer, and Yoongi doesn’t ask. He just pushes inside him, and doesn’t care if the young lord’s gasp is pain or pleasure. He’s pretty sure he knows which anyway.

He fucks him, like he’s been told to. Ordered to. Shoves himself in to the hilt. The young lord’s body grips him so tightly, and his mouth has fallen open, so that Yoongi can see his pink tongue.

Yoongi would like to fuck his mouth too.

He pulls out, almost, and thrusts in again. And again. The young lord’s cock stays hard, even though Yoongi doesn’t touch him. Perhaps he can come just from a cock in his ass. Yoongi would like to see that.

He’d like to see the young lord a lot of ways, he realises. Well, maybe he’ll have that chance. Maybe he won’t. Certainly taking him like this is a pleasure in itself. The hot enclosure of his ass. The way he looks up at Yoongi through heavy lashes, and the arc of his neck. He’s a well-off cocky brat and Yoongi should hate him, but right now he’s the most delicious thing Yoongi has ever seen.

Yoongi doesn’t warn him before he comes, but he sees the moment the young lord realises. It’s as fucking hot as the rest of him.

Yoongi doesn’t want to pull out. He wants that moment to go on.

He pushes the young lord’s damp hair back from his face, and he kisses him, like he didn’t do while he was fucking him. The young lord allows it, even draws it out; then he tilts his head back and he says, ‘Roll over. I want to come on your mouth.’

And Yoongi is obedient to that too.

‘I think I’ll have you back,’ the young lord says, and he strokes himself off in front of Yoongi’s face. Yoongi doesn’t bother to give him a hand; the young lord doesn’t seem to care anyway.

‘You know we’re a travelling band,’ Yoongi says.

‘I’m sure they’ll be able to replace you.’

Yoongi winces. The young lord laughs. He nudges the head of his cock against Yoongi’s lips, but Yoongi keeps his mouth shut.

‘I want you here,’ the young lord says. He doesn’t tell Yoongi to open up, just keeps pumping his hand. ‘You’ll stay.’

If Yoongi stays, he’s sure the young lord will get sick of him soon enough. If he refuses, he’s just making trouble for himself.

‘As you say.’

‘Good,’ the young lord says. And he comes, like he said he would, on Yoongi’s mouth; and Yoongi finds himself wincing again.

The young lord’s mouth curls, in sympathy or in satisfaction, and he falls back on his knees, like he’s gone weak-limbed all of a sudden.

Yoongi wipes the come from his face; not that having it on his hand is much better.

‘I’ll order us a bath,’ the young lord says. ‘In a minute.’ Catching his breath, Yoongi supposes. His ass must be uncomfortable right about now.

‘You really want me to stick around?’ Yoongi asks. He knows he should say it more graciously, but it seems stupid to act too polite with someone you’ve just come inside.

‘I do,’ the young lord says. ‘I have a lot of ideas for you.’

The smile he wears now is not the same as the one he wore when he brought Yoongi here. This smile is a lot more appealing.

‘Tell me about it later,’ Yoongi suggests.

He doesn’t know exactly what it entails, being a nobleman’s pet musician. But he supposes he’ll find out.

Later, maybe, he’ll be pissed off about this. For now, he just waits for the young lord to order that bath.

Re: FILL: BTS, Yoongi/Jimin, dubcon

(Anonymous) - 2021-01-07 21:15 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL: BTS, Yoongi/Jimin, dubcon

(Anonymous) - 2021-01-07 21:27 (UTC) - Expand

Taemin inducts NCT member of your choice into his gay harem.

Oh nonny, I have no idea what happened, but your prompt just grabbed me and wouldn't leggo until I'd written it, so here!

"Do you trust me?"

The voice, soft whispers against the shell of his ear, makes Ten jump. "Y-yes, hyungnim," he stutters out, swallowing.

Hands come to rest on his shoulders, and Ten restrains a shiver. It's chilly in the room, and he's only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. The room is dimly lit, and he can see the masked and hooded figure behind him in the mirrors on three sides of the room. He knows who it is despite the concealment, and he's caught somewhere between being a little afraid and a lot in awe.

"Then kneel, and close your eyes."

Ten hesitates ever so briefly, a gasp catching in his throat as he obeys, dropping to his knees and sitting on his heels. He closes his eyes and stays still, his hands folded in his lap and his other senses straining to track the figure in the room. There's movement behind him, off to the right, then a scraping sound as some sort of wooden object is picked up, moved, and then set down in front of him.

"Reach out, feel it, tell me what you think it is."

Ten shivers now but reaches out hesitantly, his fingers almost immediately encountering the object placed before him and exploring it. It's definitely wood, painted, and shaped like... a bench? It's at least half the length of a body, padded, and... oh, on the legs there are what feels like padded leather cuffs. Abruptly, Ten blushes. He knows what this is, and his mouth goes dry.

"A... a, um, a--I don't know the word in Korean," he stammers, stalling for time as his mind races. "A... fucking bench? Hyungnim?"

"Close enough."

Ten swears he can feel the figure's smile.

The bench is moved, repositioned. "Remove your shirt, then stretch out on the bench."

Ten can feel his cock twitch at that, and his face heats a few degrees hotter as he obeys, stripping out of his shirt and tossing it aside. He reaches out again to relocate the bench, now positioned so a narrower end faces him, and lies down on it. It's surprisingly comfortable, and he almost relaxes before the figure crouches down beside him in a rustle of clothing, and he feels a caress on one arm that makes him startle a little.

"Relax. I won't hurt you, I promise."

Ten tries to obey, not entirely successfully, as the figure buckles one wrist into a cuff. The procedure is repeated on his other wrist with a lingering caress on his arm. He's now more horny than not, but still nervous. There's a hand on his back now, cool fingers tracing up his spine slowly, so slowly, and Ten bites back a moan, shivering.

"You're being so good, such a good boy."

The praise almost makes Ten squirm, a delighted thrill settling in his belly.

The hand strokes down Ten's spine now. "Do you know what I'm going to do with you?"

Ten almost opens his eyes at that, remembering just in time that he hadn't been given permission. "Um, no? Hyungnim."

"No?"

The figure is definitely amused now, and Ten is pretty sure he's never blushed this hard in his life. "Um, well, hyungnim, I didn't want to presume, but... will you be, um, fucking me?"

The figure does chuckle then. "So crude! Perhaps. I haven't decided yet."

"Oh." Ten can't help but sound disappointed, which makes the figure chuckle again.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Y-yes, please, hyungnim," Ten hears himself say, and oh, he hopes he doesn't sound too desperate.

Hands splay over Ten's back, pressing firmly and dragging down from his shoulders to the waistline of his shorts. He relaxes, finally, when the hands slowly pull his shorts down, inch by tantalizing inch, his briefs going with them. He's definitely hard now, and he bites his lip to keep a groan behind his teeth. And then a last tug and the last of his clothing is removed, slipping past his knees and then ankles and flung somewhere in the room.

He's so very exposed, and so very turned on, and it's all he can do to keep from wriggling impatiently. Hyungnim was in control, hyungnim would--

Ten feels the figure's breath on his lower back, hears the rustle of clothing, and something cold brushes his hole, making him jump, and then he gasps as it pushes slowly in. It takes him a moment to figure out what it is -- a well-lubed anal plug -- almost certainly made of metal from how ice cold it feels, but it warms up quickly, and then the head of it slips entirely into him.

The stretch burns just a little, but it feels so good, and Ten lets out a whimper as the figure begins thrusting the plug in and out with agonizing slowness. Each time it goes all the way in he twitches, his breathy moans not quite stifled, and it feels like delicious torture that continues for so long that he breaks, suddenly and completely.

"Please, hyungnim, please fuck me," Ten says when it becomes too much, his voice cracking as he spreads his legs and thrusts his hips back.

The figure chuckles and the plug is withdrawn, and Ten keens softly at its absence. Clothing rustles again, and then something hard and warm and wet presses into him and he cries out softly, desperately, as he's filled. Hands grip his hips, gentle at first and then tightening as the figure begins thrusting in a firm and unhurried rhythm.

"So tight for me, such a good boy," the figure murmurs, his voice a little less composed than before.

The angle shifts and Ten jumps involuntarily, the figure's cock thrusting against something that jolts him with pleasure, and he can't hold back an incoherent sound, wanting more. The figure obliges, hitting that spot over and over again, until Ten is making a string of sounds whose only meaning is pleasure and need, uncaring of his volume.

He can feel himself nearing the edge, getting closer, so close, so tantalizing--

And then the figure stops, stills abruptly, and Ten whines low in his throat, the sound questioning and edging toward disappointed--

"Say my name, I want it on your lips as you come for me, good boy, come for me now."

Ten can barely think as the thrusts resume. He's so close, so, so close--

He gasps, arching up, straining as he comes hard. "Ah! Taemin!"

Re: FILL: Taemin/any NCT member, harem fic

(Anonymous) - 2021-01-04 09:22 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL: Taemin/any NCT member, harem fic

(Anonymous) - 2021-01-04 09:26 (UTC) - Expand

I just want Wooyoung being cheerfully sadistic in a low-key fashion, and San being into that.

I'd specifically like the use of sedatives or anesthetics, and doctors/nurses/staff doing inappropriate things to a helpless patient, focusing on their own pleasure and not the comfort or wishes of their victim.

Maybe also some mpreg or breeding kink as a treat? Like the purpose is to breed the patient against their wishes.

OCs are fine, though I'd prefer idols in the roles.

Alphas A and B are best friends, Omega C is A's lover. B saves C one night at a bar (party? during a mission?) from other alphas. They get stuck in small space and B gets very turned on by C's scent. "Did A not fuck you yet?!"

Friendship vs. instincts, c'mon! Crossovers welcomed.

when the omega messes up during practice, the trainer straps them to a stool and every alpha in the company fucks them to breed them. To scare them with the possibility of getting pregnant and not debuting/coming back.

A noncons (or negotiate to fuck) B to save them from the other alphas planning to noncon them.

hi anon, i hope this fits what you had in mind! and if you prefer you can read on ao3 here instead (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071134) ♡

taehyung's always fantasised about being balls deep in seokjin.

now it's finally happening: seokjin's wet heat sucks him in and keeps a constant, pleasured growl rumbling in taehyung's throat while taehyung fucks strangled sobs and whimpers out of him. this is even better than one of taehyung's favourite wet dreams— and it's ruined by the alphas surrounding them. their growling and leering make seokjin's distressed scent sour until taehyung tastes lime juice on his tongue, sharp enough for it to bruise in his imagination. it drowns the salty, visceral taste of seokjin's skin even when taehyung drags his tongue from the curve of seokjin's shoulder to the crook of his neck.

the fact that seokjin doesn't want it bruises, too, but taehyung's fantasised about taking seokjin like this one too many times for his instincts to shy away from it.

seokjin feels so fucking amazing around him, insides fluttering with every breath and squeezing with every sob. it makes taehyung miserable, he's horrible for feeling so wonderful fucking him like this when seokjin can barely gasp between his sobs. seokjin's arm curls tight over his face, hiding his eyes but not his flushed cheeks nor his tears rolling down them.

"how about it?" an alpha calls, sounding like they're yelling from across the dorm's halls and not a few steps away. "he really a virgin?"

seokjin clenches around him again and it knocks the air from taehyung's lungs. he digs his fingers into seokjin's thighs and grits his teeth.

"yeah-" taehyung gasps as seokjin shudders, firm thighs shivering under his palms. he grinds into seokjin, a long and tight circle, and seokjin knocks his head on the floor with a cry. for a moment, his scent sweetens. "yeah, he's fucking tight."

"ugh," a different alpha groans. "why did we let tae have him all to himself?"

"so we could watch, jackass," another sneers, voice irritated and distracted. "what's better than a good show? don't have to do any of the work!"

at that taehyung grabs seokjin's knees and spreads them wide, grinding harder into seokjin until his hyung throws his head back and squeals, trembling and trying to wiggle away. his dick is flushed and soft on his tummy, lying in his own come that splattered up to his chest when taehyung had first thrust into him and jammed his thumb into seokjin's slit.

"you promised a good show," another alpha jibes from the side. "make it messy-"

"make him scream!"

the group of alphas around them get noisier with every thrust and taehyung wishes he could shut them up. if only he weren't one of the youngest… it's hard to tune them out, especially their dirty comments still drooling over wanting to fuck seokjin senseless, but taehyung won't let any of it happen even if he has to keep doing it himself.

even if seokjin doesn't want it.

seokjin's arm falls away and he watches taehyung with wide, wet eyes. tears drip from his lashes and slip down his cheeks to disappear behind the hand covering his open mouth. taehyung watches for a while, thrusting slower, harder, and the squelch of slick echoes in taehyung's skull with seokjin's teary, stuttered breath.

it's been so long since taehyung first pushed into seokjin that slick wets taehyung’s thighs with every thrust. the other alphas crow, some stoop down and lean closer, but taehyung can’t look away from seokjin’s flushed, wet face.

"mm, tae-" seokjin gasps, voice more strained now than the last time he tried speaking. he sounds like he’s struggling for breath, every thrust making it harder for him to get out more than his gasps and groans.

taehyung wants to pause and let him speak, make things as easy as he can, but when seokjin looks at him like that taehyung can’t help squeezing seokjin's thighs tighter, pushing them higher and fucking deeper into seokjin. it makes seokjin cry out, unshed tears finally spilling down his cheeks. his hand moves from his mouth, and before he covers it up again, his strained voice wails high and distressed, drool dripping down his chin and glistening on his neck.

the alphas cheer again, wild with nasty comments as seokjin slaps both hands over his face. some drop to their knees, hands shoved into their pants and skirts, others already whining about coming on seokjin— as though taehyung would let them.

"tae, please," seokjin hiccups, "e- enough already-"

seokjin's tears make a sickly fire spread in taehyung’s belly, dick throbbing harder in seokjin as more tears drip down his cheeks.

"hyung… sorry," taehyung grunts between thrusts. he reaches to grip seokjin's wrists, meeting resistance before finally pulling seokjin's hands away. it earns a wet gasp, a sob, and now every thrust pushes strangled cries right out of seokjin's open mouth.

seokjin watches him with this hurt expression that's dazzling with his wet eyes, spit-slick mouth, and flushed skin. taehyung shouldnt be so painfully turned on from fucking seokjin like this, but then seokjin sobs out a long moan, eyes squeezed shut with his teeth clenched, and taehyung wants to fucking knot him.

"just bear it a little longer," taehyung says gently. as gently as he can while pinning seokjin's wrists to the floor and pushing down on him until his feet hover near his and taehyung's ears.

taehyung's so close he could kiss him, but he watches seokjin's red eyes glaze over, lashes fluttering and spilling more tears. his jaw drops around a cry and taehyung shoves his tongue into seokjin's mouth, thrusting into seokjin so roughly that seokjin screams.

it rings in taehyung's ears and rolls down his throat, muffled and tasting more bittersweet than charred marshmallows; it's so fucking good that his muscles burn with the knowledge his knot will pop soon. taehyung keeps thrusting hard, thrusting faster and faster as seokjin moans high into his mouth, and want sings through his bones. more slick drips from seokjin's hole and wets taehyung's thighs, making the slap of skin louder, dirtier over the throaty groans and muffled whines filling the room.

the other alphas cheer and grunt around them, whistling as seokjin's moans tangle with taehyung's growls and groans. spit dribbles down their chins as taehyung tongue-fucks seokjin's mouth until seokjin's eyes roll and come spurts in pitiful dollops from his dick, smearing between them as taehyung bears down on seokjin with all his weight. he crowds seokjin, hiding as much of his hyung as possible with his own body while seokjin’s thighs push back against taehyung. it’s like he’s trying to push him off, but seokjin bends so easily under taehyung’s weight that it just makes seokjin skid along the tiled floor every time taehyung buries himself in him.

seokjin might not want it, moans muffling high and urgent on taehyung’s tongue, but taehyung's knot pops and swells with each thrust until they're locked together. it swells so hot and tight that taehyung feels like something more than the taut pleasure in his belly will burst as he grinds deep circles into seokjin.

when taehyung finally comes it's with his eyes wide open, mouth open over seokjin's and drooling spit into his mouth while seokjin groans weakly, eyes rolling from taehyung filling him up again. this time, seokjin's tummy swells with it and come dribbles out around taehyung's knot, splattering on the already come-smeared floor, tiles wet with slick and sweat.

the alphas keep crowing, some groaning their release as it splatters on the floor near taehyung's knees. their loud voices blear like sirens in taehyung’s skull while he focuses on seokjin’s quiet whines and whimpers. taehyung knows he shouldn’t but he thumbs the scent glands inside seokjin’s wrists and stares at seokjin spread out and held down, flushed and heaving beneath him. his hair is matted and stuck in curls on his sweaty skin, wet lashes fluttering with his mouth open around breathy sobs.

taehyung feels so, so bad.

he feels so so bad because it feels so fucking good being knotted to seokjin, watching tears spill from his eyes while perverted bastards leer at them and jeer for taehyung to keep going, fuck seokjin's brains out. he feels so bad because he wants to do just that. he wants to keep seokjin pinned to the floor and fuck him while he cries again and again.

seokjin’s eyes open wide when he feels taehyung’s dick throb inside him.

"sorry, hyung," taehyung murmurs leaning in until seokjin’s stuttered breath fans hot across his cheeks. he tightens his grip on seokjin’s wrists, slowly wiggling his hips and grinding hard when seokjin’s eyes roll. tears spring anew and stick seokjin’s eyes shut when taehyung groans. "i really, really am."

Re: FILL: BTS, Seokjin/Taehyung, A/B/O, Noncon, M/M

(Anonymous) - 2021-01-30 02:21 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL: BTS, Seokjin/Taehyung, A/B/O, Noncon, M/M

(Anonymous) - 2021-02-01 18:17 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL: BTS, Seokjin/Taehyung, A/B/O, Noncon, M/M

(Anonymous) - 2021-02-07 08:39 (UTC) - Expand

Pretending to be a couple; making out in front of bad guys.

Post apocalypse road trip, anyone? I just like the idea of a bunch of people running away from somewhere together, forming relationships with each other along the way, and making a life for themselves. You can follow the gist of the movie or not, doesn't matter, I'm mainly here for the found family and the OT3+ cuddle piles with some hurt/comfort.

Lucas gets punished for something, in a sexy way.

Taehyung was assaulted in the past and tells his new boyfriend/girlfriend about it (maybe he's triggered during sex?). Healing sex ensues. Can be Taehyung and a member of BTS, other idols, or an OC/reader.

With the f!reader doing the sitting.

Hyunjin's my bias and so I want to see the poor boy utterly wrecked. Non-con/dubcon, beaten, whipped, branded, whatever, just no maiming or amputation. And then nursed back to health by one of his groupmates (or all of them, I'm not picky).

OCs can do the hurting. AU is more than fine.

the king in daechwita actually started out as the main character in one of yoongi's sexual fantasies

Mutual noncon maybe?

For Reasons, A has to break their friends' trust in them, so they attempt to noncon B. A knows their friends will come just in time to stop it so they make it as believable as possible. Cue angst and suffering and hurt/comfort.

Casual anal fingering before heading for the stage. Any gender configuration.

One of the boys gets himself trapped in a precarious situation involving restraints. (Eventually) Another of the boys finds him and frees him. But not before having some fun.

‘Don’t laugh,’ San said, already knowing there was no way that Wooyoung wouldn’t. And why shouldn’t he? It was a ridiculous sight, coming in to the practice room and seeing San stuck there, with his hands trapped above his head, the stupid tie he’d been wearing about his wrists caught in the pull-up bar. Maybe one of the others could have managed not to laugh; Wooyoung couldn’t help it.

‘I’m stuck,’ San said. ‘It’s not funny.’

‘How did you even get like that?’ Wooyoung asked. And San tried to explain – he’d been practicing Criminal, the part with the tied hands, and then he’d just been messing around, and it wasn’t his fault that the cloth around his wrists had got caught in the adjustment mechanism of the pull-up bar, and maybe it would be nice if Wooyoung would help him instead of laughing?

‘Sorry,’ Wooyoung said, ‘sorry.’ He came to inspect the situation, stepping close in to San, face-to-face. He reached his arms above San’s head and attempted to pull the piece of fabric free.

San probably could have got free himself if he’d just pulled the whole contraption down, but he hadn’t wanted the whole building to come running at the crash. Just Wooyoung was better. Except that Wooyoung had to lean in so close.

‘It’s pretty well stuck,’ Wooyoung said.

‘I know that,’ San said, his voice hot because he was embarrassed, and because of Wooyoung’s proximity. ‘Can’t you just untie it?’

‘Not if you’re going to speak like that,’ Wooyoung said. He dropped back down on his heels, but kept one hand on the bar, crowding San’s space. ‘You should be asking me nicely.’

San shouldn’t play to that. Wooyoung just wanted to tease him, he knew; it wasn’t like he would refuse to help. But somehow San found himself doing what Wooyoung wanted anyway.

‘Wooyoung-ssi, can you please just not untie the knot?’ He tried to sound piteous, and something lit up in Wooyoung’s eyes. San’s heart bet faster.

Wooyoung, then, made a cursory effort. San was less aware of what he was doing with his hands than of the press of his body, his chest against San’s chest, his arms behind San’s head.

‘It’s no good,’ Wooyoung said, his breath in San’s hair. ‘I can’t get a good grip.’ He turned his head, so that his mouth was against San’s ear. ‘I guess you’re stuck like this.’

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ San said, and Wooyoung laughed in delight.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ he asked. He let one hand drop, his fingers drifting along the line of San’s neck, and under his collar. ‘I can do whatever I like,’ Wooyoung said, in a sing-song voice.

‘Like get a pair of scissors?’

‘But what if someone else came and found you like this while I was gone?’ Wooyoung reached around behind San and gave his ass a smack; the motion forced San’s hips against his. If he hadn’t already noticed that San was getting hard, he would know now. ‘We wouldn’t want that,’ Wooyoung said, his voice gone breathy.

‘There’s nothing stopping them from walking in right now.’

‘Yeah, but right now I’m trying to help you.’

He was groping San’s ass, was what he was doing, molding it with his hands. And grinding against him.

Still, maybe if someone did walk in, it was better if they thought this was some kink thing than knowing San was just an idiot who’d got stuck all by himself. Or maybe it was just that San was so turned on that meant the idea wasn’t mortifying.

Wooyoung ran his hands back up San’s body; he found his nipples through the fabric of his shirt, and he rolled and pinched them until they stood up hard.

‘I’m not sure,’ San said, ‘that anyone would buy this is you helping me.’

‘It’s fine,’ Wooyoung said. ‘If I hear the door, I’ll go back to undoing the knot.’ He met San’s eyes, daring San to keep finding flaws in his argument. ‘Of course, that does mean I can’t do everything I might want to do.’ He reached his hand down, and he squeezed San’s cock roughly through the fabric of his pants.

‘Wooyoung –’

‘Plausible deniability,’ Wooyoung said. ‘That means we’re both going to have to come in our pants, sorry.’

He wasn’t sorry.

But then, neither was San.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 2 of 10

BTS, Yoongi/everyone, A/B/O gangbang

WJSN, any, anal play

BTS, Jungkook/any, Overstimulation

Any, humping

Re: Any, humping

Any, prettiest dick or pussy

Any, Dubcon

BTS, Yoongi/Jimin, dubcon

FILL: BTS, Yoongi/Jimin, dubcon

Taemin/any NCT member, harem fic

FILL: Taemin/any NCT member, harem fic

ATEEZ, Wooyoung/San, sadism

Any BG, medfet

Any, a/b/o, ot3

any, a/b/o, public breeding the omega, noncon

any, a/b/o, noncon or dubcon, m/m or f/f

FILL: BTS, Seokjin/Taehyung, A/B/O, Noncon, M/M

twice, jeongyeon/nayeon, accidental arousal

twice, jeongyeon/nayeon, undercover

Any, Mad Max Fury Road AU

WayV, Kun/Lucas, spanking

BTS, Taehyung/Any, past rape + healing cock/vag

Monsta X, Shownu/F!Reader, Facesitting

Stray Kids, Hyunjin/Any, Whump + aftercare

bts, yoongi, selfcest, masturbation

Any, noncon, magic au

Any, anal fingering

ATEEZ, any, predicament bondage

FILL: ATEEZ, Wooyoung/San, predicament bondage

Any BG, Arranged marriage + mpreg