I want to be with you (a s f)
⊹₊⋆ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
Ho-Ho-Home (a s f)
⊹₊⋆ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.
Into the wilderness (a f)
⊹₊⋆ alright, so last summer’s camp was... disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.
The Boyfriend Concept (f s)
⊹₊⋆ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.
wanna watch a sex tape (s)
⊹₊⋆ When Taehyung invited you over to watch a movie, you didn’t think the movie he had in mind would be your sex tape… And you definitely didn’t think his roommate would want to watch, too.
feel your touch (a f s)
⊹₊⋆ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.
physical (s)
⊹₊⋆ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.
tags: established relationship, polyamory, bdsm, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, throuple, mxm, degradation, pet play, breath play, collars and leashes, anal!!, butt plugs, oral (m receiving), nipple play (f), choking, seungmin and his canonically established pain kink, thigh humping, unprotected sex, sub/dom dynamics, sub!reader, mean dom!seung, soft dom!minho, implied subspace, use of “slut”, “bunny”, “bubs”, “pet”, “dumb”, slight humiliation kink, choking on cum, use of a non-verbal stop light system, reader goes yellow but it’s all good, absolutely sappy in the end, smut with so many feelings, lmk if i missed something!
inspo: 2min in the new teaser pics
notes: again, i got carried away. it appears the dirtier i try to make something the sappier it turns out. i think i started this two days ago and my mood drastically changed from horny as fuck to in love as fuck. please let me know how this turned out 🥹
{ wc: 5610 }
“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Minho asks, softly, as he turns the collar around in his hands.
It’s pink, a little bell hanging off the metal heart in the middle, three different slots available to tighten for size.
Seungmin bought it last week, after five whole days of discussions.
You asked your boyfriends for a collar, and Seungmin instantly agreed. Although it took a little more time to persuade Minho. He wanted it, you could tell by the crimson shade of his ears as soon as you initially brought the idea up—but Minho was the kind of boyfriend that never wanted to hurt you. Even though he knew you enjoyed it, he always wanted to protect you. Seungmin understood both of you equally, which was what helped the three of you work as flawlessly as you did. Seungmin shared Minho’s concerns, heard them and nodded his head silently, while also teasing you for how excited the idea made you.
In the end, Seungmin showed you three collars and when your eyes lingered a few seconds longer on the pink one he added it to his cart that night.
Yesterday the package arrived.
“Minho, I’m sure,” you promise him, “it’s gonna be so fucking hot.”
Minho smirked at you, shy and excited, his eyes locked on yours.
“You know Kim Seungmin loves you on your knees,” he says lowly, “I do, too.”
“You do?” You smile.
“Mhm hmm,” Minho nods sharply, “look so pretty with your beautiful eyes looking up at us.”
“Min, please,” you say, so soon, “put it on me?”
“Go get dressed,” Minho orders, “Seungminnie is gonna get here in ten minutes and then we can do everything you asked for.”
You smile big, excitedly clapping your hands together. Minho chuckles at you, eyes sparkling before he plants a small kiss on your lips.
“Go on,” he says, enamoured, before sitting back on the bed—collar still clutched tightly in his hand.
You quickly go to the bathroom, where your outfit is waiting on the counter. You get dressed, your new matching pink lace set fitting your body perfectly. The thong is a little tight, but you don’t think it’s gonna stay on for too long—so you don’t mind it much.
You take a look in the mirror, silently thanking Seungmin for his taste in lingerie; it makes you feel so incredibly sexy. You can’t wait to feel their eyes on you as they see the way the pink fabric compliments your curves.
With excitement, butterflies dancing all around your insides, you take a deep breath before walking back into the bedroom.
Minho’s spread on the bed, hand tucked behind his head as he scrolls on his phone. You can tell he’s looking forward to tonight, his sweats doing a poor job at concealing his already present bulge.
When he hears the bathroom door close shut, he looks up. His mouth falls open, front teeth peeking out as he looks you up and down three times. Then, “holy shit.”
“You like it?”
Minho swallows, eyes growing wide as he nods repeatedly.
“God, bunny,” he says, slightly breathless, “look at you.”
“I think I like it better when you look at me,” you chuckle.
“I’m looking,” he says, licking his lips, “god. Fuck.”
He sits up, his phone long forgotten and with a small flick of his fingers calls you over. You waste no time at all, quickly climbing on the bed to sit by his side.
“So pretty like this,” he runs his hands over your hair, softly brushing it with his fingers. “Pretty bunny.”
His hand leaves your hair after a few moments, running down your bare back before he softly cups your ass.
“So soft,” he hums, tucking his finger under the fabric of your g-string. He runs his finger up and down, tugging it tighter around you.
With his other hand, Minho runs his fingers over your stomach, higher and higher until he cups your tits in his hand. He’s gentle, rubbing his thumb over the soft lace and when your breath hitches he starts circling your nipple through your pink bra.
“Wanna touch you all over,” he mumbles, “but I don’t think it’ll be right to take these off yet. Look how perfect your tits are in this.”
You blush at his words but Minho is too distracted by your chest to comment on it. He pushes the cup down, only enough for your nipple to peak out, and then he rubs his thumb over it in quick motions.
You moan softly, mouth gaped and body already reeling from the touch. Something about Minho not even undressing you before he starts playing with your body ignites a fire in your stomach.
He leans forward, looking up at you as his lips wrap around your nipple, sparkling eyes locking on yours as he flicks his tongue repeatedly around your sensitive bud.
“Min, that feels really nice,” you sigh, carding your fingers through his soft hair. He smiles up at you, tongue flicking through his open lips before he closes his eyes—eagerly sucking around your nipple.
With a soft pop he moves away, rubbing his hand against your waist before giving the same attention to your other breast, eager to keep hearing your soft moans.
His hands join together behind your back, rubbing up and down freely before he cups your ass. He hums, content, the vibrations against your skin sending butterflies into your core.
He pulls away again, satisfied for the time being, looking up at you.
“I had an idea,” he says, lowly, “there was something else in the box I didn’t show you.”
“What was it?”
Minho reaches underneath the pillow, pulling out a long and white fluffy tail. You feel your face burning up.
“Why didn’t Seungmin say anything?” You ask, excitement buzzing through you at the idea of wearing a tail with the collar.
“This one was my idea,” Minho admits, a shy smile on his face.
“You can put it on me,” you say with a grin.
Then, Minho turns it around, showing you the small butt plug attached to the end of the tail.
You let out a small gasp, your lips forming a perfect circle at the realisation Minho actually bought you a toy like this. Your cheeks are so warm.
“I didn’t expect this from you,” you admit, taking the tail into your hands and inspecting it closer. The plug itself isn’t too big, but since the three of you don’t experiment with anal that often you know you’d feel a stretch either way. You feel your walls clench for a moment at the thought of wearing it.
“I didn’t expect it either,” Minho admits, cupping your ass and rubbing circles on it with his palms. “When Seungminnie showed me the website it popped up and I added it. I don’t know, bunny, the thought of you on your knees with a little tail between your legs made me so hard.”
“I want you to put it in, Minho,” you say, and your voice sounds foreign in your ears, “please.”
Minho nods.
He slips one of his hands beneath the pink fabric of your thong, his other hand gripping your ass hard. He brings his middle finger to your hole, circling it softly.
You grip his shoulders, breathing laboured as you lock your eyes on his.
“I need to get the lube,” Minho says, pressing the pad of his finger flat against your hole. You know he can slip it right in if he wanted to—but you can’t deny he’s right. His fingers are too dry and the slide won’t be easy at all, so Minho prefers to simply tease the entrance with his finger. It makes you moan either way, the novelty of it all and the sensitive nerves sending pleasure through your body with something as simple as this.
“I’ll go get it?” You offer through a small sigh.
“Delivery is on its way,” Minho says, leaning forward towards your chest and kissing around it.
You’re not sure what he means but you ignore it when he slowly starts pushing the tip of his finger in and out of your hole—in and out, in and out. You don’t think he inserts more than a centimetre inside you, but it still feels so so snug. So weird. So fucking good.
You hear the front door open and close before Seungmin’s voice follows with a small, “I’m home!” and the butterflies in your stomach start soaring.
Minho chuckles lightly, feeling the way your body reacts to Seungmin’s voice. “Excited to see our puppy?”
You nod happily, a broken gasp leaving your lips when Minho slips his finger in deeper. “He’ll be so happy to see you like this.”
The door to the bedroom practically flies open, and Seungmin doesn’t even say hello. He leans over you, a bottle of lube in his hands, and without any prior warning—he spills it directly on your ass.
It’s cold so you hiss loudly, but Seungmin only shushes you in return.
More and more of it trickles down your body, all over Minho’s finger and down to your cunt. All you can do is moan as Minho easily slips his finger all the way in, knuckle deep.
“There you go,” Minho coos, “take it, baby.”
“Feels so nice, Min,” you let your head fall forward, focusing on the pleasure the stretch provides you.
“Let me look at her, hyung,” Seungmin says, his voice covered in an edge you can’t quite place.
You let your eyes flutter open, moans tumbling freely out of your mouth as you look at Seungmin. He was at an important meeting, you aren’t too sure for what, but he was still wearing his smart clothes. They were so different from his every day sweats, and although you loved him in anything he wore, there was something particularly beautiful about Seungmin wearing tight fitting dress pants and a fashionable cardigan.
You wanted him to rip his clothes off.
“I knew you’d like the tail hyung got us,” Seungmin smirks, his eyes drinking in your outfit before settling on your lips, “knew you wanted it in every hole.”
“Seung,” you let out, ears growing warm at his accusation.
“I’m wrong?” You don’t answer, “our dirty little pet doesn’t like how hyung is fucking her ass right now?”
You moan as Minho makes a point of adding a second finger at that exact moment.
“Stretching you so well,” Seungmin mumbles, looking behind your back at Minho’s actions, “your holes were made for this.”
You reach out for Seungmin’s hand, pulling him closer to you, and he laces your fingers together as he sits down beside you.
“You bought the cutest set, Seungminnie,” Minho says, as he watches Seungmin’s fingers run over the lace.
“You chose the cutest tail,” he returns.
“I-I’m ready,” you sigh, “I want it in me.”
“She’s said that so many times already,” Minho reports, “she really wants it.”
“You want your collar, too?” Seungmin asks, sweetly.
“Yes, please,” you try your hardest not to sound too desperate, but the way they both laugh at you makes you think you failed.
Seungmin plants a soft kiss on your cheek before he looks around for the collar, and when he finds it somewhere on the bed he shakes it around. The little bell rattles around with a small repetitive dingdingding. Seungmin smirks.
“Oh, this is gonna be so fucking hot,” he chuckles, eyes lighting up.
Minho slips his fingers out slowly, kissing your shoulder as he tells you he thinks you’re ready now. You nod. You have no idea if he stretched you wide enough, but you don’t care. You just want them to start already.
You watch as Minho grabs the tail from the fluffy side, dowsing the plug side with lube before he looks up at you. The cautious look is back in his eyes, and he hesitates, but once he sees your blown pupils and quick breaths he leans forward.
He circles the plug around your hole a few times, letting you get used to the coolness of the lube (unlike Seungmin) before slowly pushing it inside you. He pulls it out, then back in—in out, in out, before it slips all the way inside you with a loud moan.
“Oh, my god,” you sigh, “feels so tight.”
Seungmin runs a hand up and down your thighs. Minho starts playing with the fluffy ends of the tail. You can hear him giggling.
“It’s okay, bunny?” Minho asks when you fall silent.
You nod, clenching your fists tightly to stop yourself from touching your clit and derailing the whole evening. Your senses are on fire, the tightness of the plug causing your walls to flutter repeatedly. You try to focus on your boyfriends, who are looking at you curiously.
“I have so many things I wanna do to you, bubs,” Seungmin says, “you’re good to let me ruin you?”
“Please, Seungmin,” you groan, “ruin me as much as you want.”
He chuckles. “Let’s get you dressed, yeah?”
He opens up the collar, watching you slowly as he secures it in place. He locks it on the first loop, the loosest option, and kisses you softly.
Minho runs his hands through your hair, delicately pulling it up into a ponytail as he pushes it away from your face. You aren’t sure when he got the hair tie, but he’s delicate with it, even pulling out a few strands from the side like how you always do.
“Thank you,” you say, surprised.
“So it doesn’t get in the way,” he explains. Your heart skips a beat, understanding they must’ve discussed what they wanted to do tonight beforehand, leaving it as a surprise for you.
Seungmin leans over your shoulder, kissing Minho’s lips messily, before the older pushes him off.
“Youngest first,” Minho says, pointing at the box at the edge of the room where the rest of the toys came from.
Seungmin gets up from the bed, grabbing a matching pink leash out of the box.
He secures the leash onto the collar, giving the handle to Minho before he steps back.
He opens the button on his pants.
You watch as he lets them fall onto the floor, pooling around his feet, along with his boxers.
His cock stands against his stomach at full hardness already, and you swallow tightly.
“Kim Seungmin,” Minho grumbles impatiently, “shirt off. We wanna see all of you.”
Seungmin rolls his eyes but acquiesces, chucking his shirt to the side.
“He’s so pretty,” you voice out loud.
“I know,” Minho agrees, reaching his fingers towards Seungmin's stomach. He runs them up and down the soft skin, and you watch fascinated as small goosebumps rise on the skin of his thighs.
“Minho,” you let out breathless, “I wanna bite him.”
Minho laughs, almost evilly. “I think you should.”
“Yeah?” You blink at Minho.
He nods. “You know how much our boy likes that kinda thing. Do what you want, bunny. I’ll pull you back if I want to, right?”
Your eyes move towards Minho’s hand, thick veins accenting his knuckles as the bright pink leash sits securely in his hands. You clench your thighs together.
Minho grabs one of the pillows and drops it to the floor, right at Seungmin’s feet.
“Down, pet,” Seungmin commands. You have to hold back a moan.
You slowly move onto the floor, knees comfortably sitting on top of the pillow Minho provided. Each small movement nudges the plug inside you—you feel so dizzy with want, with excitement, you aren’t sure you’re even in your own body.
But knowing Minho is holding onto you, connected to him by pink leather, puts you at ease. Minho would never let anything happen to you, and Seungmin would kiss you better if it ever did.
You get into position, holding onto Seungmin’s soft thighs.
“Open,” Seungmin orders, running his thumb across your chin. You open your mouth, instinctively sticking your tongue all the way out as you get comfortable on your knees.
Seungmin laughs at you, shaking his head softly.
“You were waiting to do that, huh?” He says, lowly.
You nod your head, and the bell around your neck starts clicking.
“Such a pathetic girl,” Seungmin whispers, “letting hyung stick a fucking tail in your ass? And you liked it?”
“I liked it so much, Seung,” you whine, “it feels so nice.”
“You didn’t even thank hyung,” Seungmin points out.
You feel a small tug at your collar, so you turn around towards Minho. He’s lying back, hand tucked beneath his head again, his black t-shirt showing off his arms beautifully.
“Thank you, Minho,” you say.
“For what?” Seungmin pushes.
“Thank you for fucking my ass with the tail,” you choke out, heat running up and down your entire body.
Minho doesn’t say anything, but you see his knuckles tighten around the leash.
Your chin is tugged harshly as Seungmin turns your head back towards him, smiling wickedly at you.
“Good pet,” he says, “now I’m gonna fuck a different hole of yours. And you’re not going to stop until hyung pulls you off, yeah?”
“Yes,” you sigh, “please.”
You feel Minho’s hand rub up and down your shoulder, as he plants a small kiss on your temple.
He grabs your hand, holding one of your fingers up.
“One finger means green,” he explains, kissing your knuckle. Then he holds up your second finger, “two means yellow,” then he unravels your whole hand so all your fingers are pointing upwards. He kisses your open palm before saying, “five fingers means red. Can you do that for us, bunny?”
“I can’t speak?” You ask after Minho gives you a small kiss.
“You’re allowed to,” Minho says, “but he’s gonna fuck your throat so you probably won’t be able to.”
You clench around the air, shifting on top of your knees.
You nod, fingers tingling at the idea before you look up at Seungmin.
His cock is bright red already, the head glistening slightly. You want to taste him.
You squeeze his thighs, making a point of using your nails, and he lets out a soft groan.
“Our pet has sharp claws, huh?” Minho chuckles.
You lean forward, planting a few kisses around his hip bone before you scrap your teeth against the skin.
Seungmin lets out a high pitch sigh.
“She bites, too,” Minho hums.
“Want more,” Seungmin groans as you bite him again, sucking on the skin before you lick over the small indents from your teeth.
Minho sinks his fingers into your roots, scraping against the nape of your neck with his blunt nails. You barely notice it when he guides your head further down Seungmin’s body.
Minho pushes your face against Seungmin’s pelvis, your nose brushing against the thick stubble. You kiss anywhere your lips can reach—but you can’t ignore the heat coming from his cock any longer.
Slowly, you lick the tip once and then twice and then Seungmin hisses, “take it all, pet. Come on.”
You do as you’re told, letting your jaw drop slack as you slip as much of it inside your mouth as you can.
The height isn’t exactly perfect for your current task, so you try to make up for it, lifting up on your knees to make up for Seungmin’s long legs.
Minho notices, and when he does, he tugs on the leash just enough so that you start struggling against his grip. He’s trying to push you back down to the floor.
The lower you are, the harder it is to fit all of Seungmin’s length inside your mouth but the more you try to lift up—the harder Minho tugs on your leash.
Your thighs are starting to shake.
As a distraction you focus on fluttering your tongue against Seungmin, sucking harder around his warm cock as the salty taste takes over your thoughts.
You want him closer, you want more, and when you drag your body towards him your pussy rubs just right against the pillow you’re sitting on.
You moan around him, and Seungmin throws his head back from the vibrations. Minho tugs on your leash in warning.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says.
Obviously, you do it again.
“Up,” he orders, “on your knees, up.”
You lift yourself up, struggling to sit up on your knees, but thankfully it’s much easier to control what you’re doing that way.
When you start finding your pace, head bobbing up and down freely, Minho tugs on the leash so quickly you lose your breath for a moment or two.
Once the collar isn’t digging into your throat as much you try to breathe in, but Seungmin holds your head in place.
“Such a warm hole for me,” he mumbles, “you don’t need to breathe, right?”
You look up at him, blinking away tears as you breathe in quickly through your nose.
He tugs at your ponytail until his dick falls out of your mouth. You gasp in as much air as you can.
“What do you like more, slut, breathing or my cock?”
“Your cock,” you say, embarrassingly fast, “it’s better than anything else.”
You nod, the bell rings along with your movements. “Keep going, Seungmin. You said you’d ruin me, please fucking ruin me.”
“Hyung,” he whines, “I’m gonna cum all over her fucking face like this.”
At that Minho grabs you from behind, small hands covering your head as he guides you back onto Seungmin’s cock. You quickly swallow him in, getting used to the weight of him in your mouth again.
You grab onto his thighs for support, making sure to dig your nails into the skin again. As you let go of any control you have, you allow Minho to push your head up and down, up and down, while Seungmin gets louder and louder.
You bring your hands onto his stomach, scratching five long lines on each side from his hips to his thighs.
Seungmin keens.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he starts chanting, “do it-do that, do that again.”
Minho runs his hand down Seungmin’s back, scratching harshly as Seungmin lets out his loudest moan yet.
“Make her choke on my cum, make her choke on it, fuck fuck fuck—“
Minho shoves your head down until your nose is flush against Seungmin’s pelvis. You look for air anywhere you can but there isn’t much. The tip is so deep inside your throat you’re sure it can be seen clearly through your neck, but neither of them can see anything when you’re pressed flush against Seungmin.
A moment or two of nothing but Seungmin’s moans and you gagging, and then the salty taste gets stronger and his cum fills your throat in a sudden gush and Minho pulls you off in a matter of seconds.
You don’t even open your eyes, too overwhelmed by the speed of it all, focusing all your efforts on making up for the lack in your lungs without actually choking on your boyfriend’s cum.
Once you recover enough you remember to swallow what’s left in your mouth, the rest spilled all over you and the pillow and your brand new pink lace.
You feel a hand on your chin, cleaning you up, and when you open your eyes Minho’s looking you up and down seriously.
“How are we doing?”
“Green,” you practically moan, “keep going, I’m not done.”
“Calm down,” Seungmin chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you sucked my soul out.”
You grin at that, pride filling your chest at the state he’s in.
His chest is covered in a sheer layer of sweat, bangs sticking to his forehead even though he styled them away from his face today—and his cheeks are bright pink. There’s scratches all down his thighs; you imagine his back doesn’t look any better. He can barely keep his eyes open, still breathing in and out with effort.
“You’re so fucking hot like this, Seung,” you groan, “please, I can go again.”
“I can’t,” he falls on his back, covering his face with his arm as his chest raises up and down rapidly. “Leave me alone.”
You look up at Minho, eyebrows lifting in a silent plea.
“Go on,” he says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile, “hump his thighs.”
Seungmin groans, as if protesting, but he spreads himself on the bed until he looks comfortable. Then, he lifts his arm away from his eyes.
He licks his lips and you notice his breathing has settled down slightly. He doesn’t move, barely reacts as you climb onto his thigh and drag your cunt over the soft skin.
You groan as the damp fabric rubs against your folds.
There’s a constant ding ding ding from the bell, the sound spurring you on to go faster and faster.
“You did so well,” Minho praises, “and you’re so eager to do more. You have to cum for us first as a reward for all your hard work.”
You nod, “yeah, thank you. Thank you, Minho.”
“Like when you train a puppy to do tricks,” Seungmin explains, “we’re gonna let you cum as your treat.”
You whine at his words, dragging your hips back and forth at an aching pace.
“Show off your tail, baby,” Minho mumbles, “looks so fucking hot when it bounces around like that.”
You can’t imagine there’s any kind of grace in your movements, far too concerned with chasing the pleasure to think of how it looks—but Minho’s eyes are frozen on your ass, completely enchanted by the fluffy white tail.
It’s only when he slaps your ass, the surprise causing you to fall forward on Seungmin’s chest, that you feel yourself on the edge of cumming. The drag of your cunt against Seungmin’s thigh and the newfound angle nudging the plug inside you just right causes your moans to get more intense, louder, more desperate.
Seungmin grabs your tits with both hands, “bubs, cum.”
He says it like a command, like all the other commands he gave you so far tonight, and your body has already learned to react to anything he says.
You instantly start shaking in his hold, tingles running all the way from your toes to the tips of your fingers as your orgasm crashes through you. You clench tightly, the plug making it all the more sweeter as you ride it out for as long as you can.
You collapse on top of Seungmin, a content hum echoing against your chest when he pulls you into a hug.
You watch as Minho lays down next to Seungmin, brushing any stray hairs that fell out of your ponytail from all your efforts. You aren’t sure when he stripped down but he’s completely naked now, and you let yourself indulge in the beautiful sight of his bare body. From his sculptured chest to his thick thighs to his gorgeous cock sitting angry and needy against his stomach.
Seungmin kisses the top of your head, then lazily kisses Minho’s cheek.
“How are you, baby?” He asks.
“So hard I could cry,” Minho chuckles.
Seungmin’s hand wraps around the base of Minho’s cock, squeezing tightly.
Minho groans loudly, the sound so different from how composed he’s been so far. You can see his desperation when he shuts his eyes tightly, mouth hanging open.
“Bunny,” he groans, “how are you?”
All you can do is lift up two fingers.
“Need more rest?” You nod.
“Don’t worry, hyung,” Seungmin says, giving Minho’s cock one full stroke, “I’ll take care of it while our baby rests.”
Seungmin holds you in one arm and uses the other to keep pumping Minho’s cock. Minho moans freely, letting himself enjoy the attention finally being on him.
You know he prefers giving when it’s the three of you, and especially when you decide to try one of your own kinks, but he still loves when the attention is on him—and who wouldn’t love one of Seungmin’s big hands all over them?
No more than thirty seconds pass before you decide you’ve rested enough.
“Let me sit on it,” you mumble out, “want his cock in me.”
“She still sounds so desperate,” Seungmin hums, “we can all barely move but she’s still hungry for cock.”
Minho smiles lazily, grabbing at the leash and pulling you towards him.
You aren’t very graceful when you climb over to his side but you have to do it quickly, the collar already pressing down on your windpipe.
Minho helps you settle on his thighs. You notice just how much bigger they are than Seungmin’s when the stretch in your thigh deepens from the prolonged positioned you’re in.
He pushes your ruined underwear to the side while guiding his cock towards your entrance. He nudges the tip against your clit, spreading all your wetness on his cock before he easily slips it inside you.
It feels tighter than usual, the plug sitting snug right by his cock, and you can cum from the thought alone.
“You two look so good together,” Seungmin mumbles, cupping his balls. With his other hand, he brushes Minho’s hair out of his eyes. “I’m so in love with you two.”
Minho thrusts up, hard, surprising a squeal out of you.
“Oh my god,” Minho groans, “tell him if he says that again I’ll cum.”
“Seungie,” you start, and Minho instantly picks up his pace, practically drilling into you from below, “S-Seungie, tell Minho how, fuck, how much you love him.”
“Shut up,” Minho warns, snapping the leash. You clench as your breath hitches, but that doesn’t stop you.
You wrap your hands around Seungmin’s cock, at full hardness again already, and start lazily stroking him.
He bites his plump lip, blinking slowly at the pair of you.
“Fuck, I love you two so much,” he groans. You pump him faster.
Your coordination is awful, and Minho’s thrusts keep jolting you around, and all three of you can barely move but neither one of you will stop.
It should be awkward. You think it’s nothing less than perfect.
“Hyungie is the best boyfriend I could’ve asked for, and you’re the best girlfriend. It’s like I have the entire world here with me when we’re together. I’m so lucky you two are mine,”
You feel Minho’s dick twitching inside you.
“Say it again,” you whine, “fuck, Seung, I love you.”
He sits up enough to kiss you firmly on the lips, and it’s one too many things to focus on so you don’t think you do a good job of it at all.
You try to put all your energy on Seungmin’s cock, knowing Minho is controlling his own pace well enough, but Seungmin already came tonight and your hand isn’t fast enough.
Still, “Seungmin, I love you so much,” Minho moans. “Fuck, I love you both with my entire heart.”
“Minho,” you whine, not used to him saying things like that so desperately.
“Hyungie,” Seungmin says as he pulls him in for a kiss, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The three of you start breathing desperately, all broken moans and messy kisses.
“I need you two like I need air,” Seungmin says.
“I couldn’t breathe without either one of you,” Minho agrees.
“Fuck,” you gasp out as Seungmin pushes the tail deeper inside you, “I need you two, I need you two more than anything.”
“I’m gonna cum,” Minho warms.
“Min, I love you,” you kiss him, “cum for us, Min, wanna feel you so close inside me.”
“M-me too,” Seungmin groans, “gonna cum, too.”
You can’t be the only one left out, and so you quickly start rubbing your clit in figure-eights with your free hand. It’s a mess of movements and an unsynchronized chorus of moans—but soon the three of you are all hit with it at the same time.
Minho gets there first, and it’s a domino reaction when Seungmin notices his boyfriend cumming inside his girlfriend, and your body reacts to the pair of them slowly after.
Minho carefully guides you off his thighs, ignoring the mess between your legs and the way it’s slipping out of your cunt and all over the bed.
He unlocks the leash, opens the collar and throws it off to the side somewhere. He only needs one hand to do so, and you can’t suppress the moan that leaves you from the sight of it. Luckily, they don’t think much of it as the three of you are all still sensitive.
Minho slowly, and with a few reassuring words, slips the plug out as well.
The pair of them rub over your neck and your sore thighs and your exhausted wrist. Minho takes a bit of water and washes over your neck to make sure your skin doesn’t get too irritated and then he makes sure to give you what little is left in the water bottle to drink. Everything still tastes of Seungmin, though.
After a few minutes Minho settles down against your chest, reaching a hand to hold onto Seungmin’s hips.
You’re sandwiched so closely together you might actually stop breathing soon—somehow it’s still not close enough.
“Kim Seungmin,” Minho mumbles, eyes closed, “since when do you get sappy during sex?”
“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbles sleepily back, “I was overwhelmed. I truly meant it all.”
“Of course you did,” Minho says, as if stating a fact. “There’s a lot of things I’m unsure of, but what the three of us have together isn’t one of them.”
“If you guys don’t shut up I’ll start crying,” you threaten.
Minho kisses your cheek. Seungmin kisses your shoulder.
“You mean the world to me, bubs,” Seungmin mumbles.
“I will cry,” you groan.
“Fine, I hate you. Happy?” Seungmin chuckles.
You giggle at him, “I hate you, too.”
“Why are you two so annoying?” Minho smiles, big and content. You kiss his cheek softly.
It’s sweaty in your three way hug, and you’re still sticky all over, and your throat is on fire from thirst. But still, you don’t move yet, entirely content with being wrapped all around the two of them, unsure of where you end and they begin. It’s fitting like that, you think to yourself, being so close together your breath easily turns into theirs.
wanting to talk to people is so fucking embarrassing. literally hi it's me again I wanted to have a conversation with you because I think you're fun to talk to. oh god you can just fucking kill me if you want sorry
genre: office au, university au, coworkers to lovers, angst, fluff,
romantic trope: enemies to lovers (I DID MY BEST OKAY?)
word count: ~4k
rating: T (for at least one objectifying comment)
warnings: hyunjin in glasses, with paint streaks on his clothes and person; mc is kinda rude to him; someone is actually a horrible person in this; characters drink but everyone is of age; hyunjin is older (about 28), mc is 24; probably some cursing because it's me and cursing is my native language;
a/n: story #5 in the skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics. this is a little bit of her fault too as when the magic school photos dropped she mentioned hyunjin as an art professor. i chose this trope (e2l) to challenge myself as it's not my regular jam annnnnnd i don't know if i really did it all that well. i did try. please be kind to this chronic f2l writer. i apologize for any typos or mistakes. i am my own editor.
-----
Pretty Privilege.
It’s not a thing you personally have experienced, to your knowledge. Maybe you have. Maybe once amongst your friend group, you were considered the stand out and someone gave you a pass because they liked the way your eyes are shaped, or how you smile with teeth, or whatever.
You’ll allow that.
But generally, you hate that it even exists. Pretty privilege. Isn’t it enough to get to be pretty in this world? Without the world groveling at your feet and simultaneously pushing any obstacle out of the way for you?
So when Professor Hwang is hired as the new art professor at the university where you admin, you take an immediate dislike. After, at first, the overwhelming surge of attraction because he truly is the prettiest human you’ve ever seen outside of screen.
Even when your work friends discuss romance, and when Juhye from the Performative Arts department (she has basically the same job as you, just different department) mentions that she thinks he might be interested in her, you join in that yes, he’s very attractive and seems nice, and of course he’d be a great partner for her.
Even if you kind of hate him.
And since you admin in the same department as he teaches (Fine Arts, obv), it’s your job (according to your friends and the unspoken rules that you really wish were spoken and written down) that you hype her up when he’s in the vicinity. You have to.
Girl Code: requiring you to promote her, and not be too friendly with him because one does not want to violate Girl Code.
Once in undergrad was enough and you would do anything not to experience that ostracization ever again.
Unspoken rules that make life more difficult that it already is. You feel very much like you hyping Juhye is as subtle as a truck, and in doing so you are as awkward as well, whatever is very very awkward.
“You locked yourself out again?” You do your best not to hiss at him, but in over one semester of him being on the faculty, the man has locked himself out of his Canvas account at least a dozen times.
Hyunjin, Professor Hwang, as he is to his students, gives you the most sheepish smile, and deep down you acknowledge that it’s cute as hell. This man who could be art himself, looking self-conscious that he can’t be trusted with the basics of technology.
“I know. I don’t know how I do this.” He shrugs, straightening his wire-rimmed glasses. “Isn’t my laptop supposed to save that info for me, so I never have to try and remember?”
“It is.” You think to offer that he can bring his laptop and you can look to see if Google, or whatever browser he uses (probably like Firefox or something equally horrendous), is saving his passwords, but you don’t. Because it’s not in your job description and: “Juhye’s pretty good at that kind of stuff. I’m sure she could make sure it’s doing that. Saving your passwords, login info.”
He hums in lieu of a response, moving from in front of your desk to behind you to see what you’re doing. He doesn’t ask, which makes you bristle, but you’re not doing anything confidential and he’s not really breaking your personal bubble, so you can’t say anything.
“I’ve never asked,” he begins as though talking to you while you’re working isn’t annoying. “But I assume, this isn’t what you went to school for. Did you study tech…stuff?”
You’re mildly amused that he doesn’t use the official term ‘computer science’. But just mildly. You can still dislike someone and still find them amusing on occasion.
“No.”
There’s silence, minus the sounds of your typing and mouse-clicking.
“What did you study?”
You don’t like lying. It’s not a thing you prefer to do in life. You do, everyone does, but you try avoid it as much as possible. So even though you know this might interest Hyunjin and you know you should not interest him, ever, you tell the truth.
“Photography. I mean, I studied business, too, but mostly photography and mixed media art.”
There’s silence yet again.
“Which is why I’m here. In this department.” The silence has become unbearable.
“Photography?”
He’s going to ask to see something.
“You good at it?”
You turn to look at him. He seems genuinely curious, not like he’s about to pass judgment. But, he’s hard to read. That perfect face can look very RBF according to Juhye (which she thinks just makes him all the more mysterious and sexy) and even blank which gives you less on which to assess him for.
His hair pulled back in a ponytail and black textured turtleneck make him seem even more aloof, like the rich pretty boy in an anime.
“My grades and graduating GPA said I was.” You put very little stock into quantifying art and creativity into numbered grades, but you did graduate well enough to please your parents.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh okay then.”
God, he’s annoying.
“Anyway.” You turn back to your computer. “Everything is reset. Your email has the links to come up with a new password. Try to write it down somewhere, or you know, memorize it.”
“No space,” he replies. “No space for memorizing meaningless words and numbers and symbols.”
“Really? What’s your brain full of then? Creative genius?” You don’t even hide your sarcasm.
He laughs. “I hope so. Mostly just images of all the greats I studied. And then my students and what they do. It’s a photo album that never ends and changes order. Often.”
He’s slipping by you toward the door that leads out of the Fine Arts offices. You stare at him, his words lingering.
“Thanks again,” he says, halfway through the door. He smiles at you, a small one, a polite ‘this is how we socially interact’ type smile.
It’s still so stupid beautiful. You hate it.
–
At the next day’s lunch, you dutifully let Juhye know about how you encouraged Hyunjin to bring his laptop and technology woes to her and she brightens and preens, and you almost feel like maybe you don’t hate him.
It’s a small consolation.
One of the benefits (there are just a few) of working at the school that you attended, in the department you majored in, is use of the facilities. Not whenever you want as the current students and professors get first claim on any studio, extra supplies, or the dark room.
In two years of working post-undergrad, you’ve learned when the down times, the lesser claimed times were. Certainly not before midterms or finals. Nor right when the semester begins because all the overachievers feel like studio or dark room time will somehow make all the difference.
But right now, in the in between times, you can book some dark room sessions which encourages you that someday you might ‘make’ it as a professional photographer, that you aren’t losing your skills.
You’d taken a day to drive up to the nearest mountains to one; soothe your soul with nature (and pollen sadly) and two: take a new set of photos. As with everyone else in the 21st century, you use and manipulate digital photographs as well, but you also do film because it’s its own thing.
As you turn on the red light bulbs in the darkroom, negatives now fully developed, you smile because film and the process of getting from undeveloped roll of film to tangible photo makes you happy. It’s a comforting process that you can almost do in your sleep. With how late it was when you went to bed last night is a good thing because two cups of coffee is not doing its usual thing.
There’s a knock on the door of the dark room and your smile immediately drops.
Damn students (it’s a fruitless grievance because it is their right as they are paying a ridiculous amount for this education, but ugh, it’s annoying to be on the bottom rung of the hierarchy).
“Occupied.”
“I left something in there that I need.”
It’s like every muscle of your body tenses, and every nerve sets alight.
“Professor Hwang?” Like you need to confirm.
There’s a pause, like he’s registering your voice before he says your name.
“Yes, I’ve got the safe lights on, but if you make sure everything is off out there, I can open the door.” Sooner he comes in, the sooner he can leave.
There’s a low chuckle. “I know the drill.”
You bristle at the patronizing tone.
“Everything is off.”
You open the door and mentally curse him. Even with the lights which you’d considered an unflattering shade of red, he still looks like art.
Art like a rendition of a fallen angel or romantic vampire with the shadows on his face and red tinge his neck-length brown hair takes on. His glasses are horn-rimmed today, his white shirt pink in the light and sleeves rolled up, black slacks. There are at least three paint smudges on his forearms.
He nods and gives you a polite smile. It’s the most reserved he’s ever been with you, at least since first meeting. You would never describe him as outgoing by any means, but certainly friendly, amiable. He doesn’t hold any of the underlying snobbery of other art professors who have lived so long in the ivory towers of academia and the art world, that any one not well-versed is unworthy of such allowances as kindness or care.
For all his faults, Hyunjin is not the worst.
You step back, aware that you are essentially, just staring at him like a moron. He slips in, glances at the negatives out that you’ve just developed.
“Pleased?” he asks as he moves toward the shelves of chemicals and random items (things left and abandoned by years of students and professors - your favorite is a tiny figurine of the black cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service. No one has taken it back, as though left here on purpose by someone in the past six years. He’s the official mascot of this particular dark room and therefore your favorite).
“Pleased?” you repeat.
“With your work?” He grabs some acrylic paint tubes off the shelf. “What you just developed?”
Now you feel stupid. Obviously that’s what he’s asking about. Not if you’re pleased to see him. That would be stupid. You aren’t. Surely even he can see that.
“Um, not sure.” You return to the film and its small images. You set one image over the projected enlarger so it’s visible to the both of you. It’s not much, a solitary tree, slightly off center in the frame. “Haven’t had a chance to see if it was a total waste of roll or not.”
Even though you don’t look to see him move, you feel him stand slightly behind you to also take in the image.
You hold your breath for a number of reasons.
One; because you don’t need to breathe in his cologne which is actually really lovely (so you hate it).
Two; because his nearness is off-putting as he’s not really breaking any social rules by being too close and darkrooms aren’t exactly spacious, but dammit he’s close.
Three; because you actually want to know what he thinks.
That last one pisses you off the most. You and he don’t dabble in the same medium (he’s painting and drawing; you always stuck with photography, sometimes mixed media) so who is to say his thoughts are at all valuable.
Not that he isn’t skilled. Every professor in the Visual Arts department is, even the ones you dislike the most.
Like him.
“It’s lonely.”
You flinch at his words, his voice seeming loud in the quiet of the room.
“Being asymmetrically composed, the tree feels even more out of place and lost.”
You force yourself to continue staring at the project and not turn to see his expression. Because you might show your thoughts and those don’t need to be discoverable by Professor Hwang Hyunjin.
“I like it. Even if it’s a bit out of focus.”
You lean into the projection to see that he is correct. There is a slight blur to the edges, fuck it all.
You straighten back up. “Intentional.” Not that you moving in and checking it wasn’t a damn giveaway that you are lying like a lying liar, but maybe he’s stupid.
“Ah.”
Maybe a little. Or he lies too.
“Are you entering any contests or doing a showing?”
Does he truly want to have a normal conversation right now? In the dark room? Alone? When you are working on your own stuff?
You take a few steps away, turning off the projector.
“I don’t have anything specific in mind. Just keeping a hand in, you know?”
He nods, the shadows lengthening then shortening on his face. “Not that this subject matter is relevant, but you know our theatre department is looking for a photographer? Dr. Kim mentioned it just yesterday.”
“They are?”
“You can do action and work with that type of lighting?”
You work hard not to sneer. “Yes. The photography program here is pretty thorough.”
He shrugs. “I would hope so, though I must admit I know little of Dr. Cha’s work with students. And only the bare essentials of the craft.” He’s smiling, looking far less like a work of untouchable art and more like someone who regularly laughs; at himself and at the absurdity of the world.
The dried paint on his cheek is wrinkled and breaking with that smile.
You mentally shake yourself.
When you don’t say anything, making the silence veer on awkward, he clears his throat.
“You should apply. I think you’d do well.” He laughs now. It’s silly. “Not that I have much understanding the ins and outs of course, my recommendation is probably worth little.”
“You’d say something?”
“To Kim? Sure.”
“With one photo?”
He now looks amused. “I’ve seen your instagram, too. Dr. Cha often shares his former and current students’ work and I follow her.” He starts to the door. “I’ll say something.” He holds up the paint tubes. “Thanks for letting me in.”
He opens the door before looking back. “Have a good night.” And disappears through it.
The room feels strange now. The red hue seems not as striking, and the air carries that hint of piquancy of his cologne.
You do a physical shake of yourself now before returning to make some prints.
–
When you see Juhye out for drinks with the rest of your compatriots Friday night, you ask her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the theatre photographer position?” She works in the Performative Arts department, even updates the website. Of all people, she would be one of the first to know.
She’s had about two more cocktails than you which means her eyes take several moments to focus on you. You lean against the bar next to her, waiting.
“Why would I?”
You bite your tongue to retort. “Because I’m a photographer.”
She wrinkles her nose, saying your name in the most patronizing tone you’ve heard since high school. “They want professionals.”
You jerk back as though she swung a dagger at you.
But you try again. Because friends. And Girl Code. “I applied though. Would you say something to Dr. Kim please?”
She takes a deep breath that you can hear despite the loud house music pumping in this bar. “Honey,” The sickly sweetness of the condescension makes you want to gag. “We’re friends and all, but I am not risking my name just because you think you can do something like this. Real friends tell each other the truth.”
As she finishes this quasi-sermon, the bartender produces another drink for her, and a receipt to sign. She does, scrawling also her snapchat username. He takes the slip, makes eye contact with her and smirks before moving to another patron.
“What was that?” you ask, still processing her apparent disregard for your dreams and talent. “I thought you were ‘in love’ with Professor Hwang?” You are petty enough to do finger quotation marks.
She rolls her eyes and shrugs, already looking past you for the rest of your group. “I am. But wanting a luxury car doesn’t mean that one can’t ride in a station wagon.”
If you’d had more liquor, maybe you could have thrown up on her as you currently feel ill, both disgusted and horrified.
To equate humans to cars reeks of objectification and lack of seeing someone as a whole person.
And you might hate Hwang Hyunjin, but you know he’s more than just a beautiful (on the surface) man.
Juhye slips by you to find the others as you realize how incredibly shit of a friend she is. Of a person. In fact, you turn to stare at her back in astonishment because you thought you were good at reading people, at sifting through the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with. Juhye has never been someone you were incredibly close to, but you thought she was decent, even if her taste in men was lacking.
“I didn’t know you came here.”
As though your life is a full-on drama, you turn back to see that in her place is Hyunjin. He’s got a martini glass in hand, the liquid a vibrant green.
“Rarely,” you answer tonelessly, your brain still trying to understand the revelations of the last five minutes. You nod to his drink. “What’s that?”
He grins, alcohol having warmed his smile. “Appletini.”
A surprised laugh exits your mouth before you realize it. You assumed he’d probably drink something like fancy single malt scotch or absinthe (the green). Here he is, this impressive and young art professor, one who has had an extolled art showing in the last year (you might have researched him some when you realized how much you hated him), drinking the equivalent of Apple Jacks in a martini glass.
His smile is a little cute.
He isn’t wearing glasses right now, which is a shame, but his t-shirt and jeans give him less of that art prof vibe, and more of the cute guy you meet at a bar.
“Good?” you ask, finding yourself bewildered and amused.
He nods emphatically, offering it to you as though you’re friends who share.
You shake your head, even though you sort of want to.
“Thank you. I should go.” It might be the lighting, but he looks way too cozy with his hair tucked behind his ears, the wind from outside making it tousled.
You look around to see Juhye and several of your friends over at a booth. They are watching with piercing eyes.
Juhye whispers to another.
You feel it. The momentary terror of doing something wrong, the violation of the code in talking to your friend’s crush.
“Before you do.” He sets down his drink, inching a bit closer to you. “I talked to Dr. Kim. About the job? I can’t say for sure, but I think he was definitely looking forward to talking with you about it. I showed him your series with the cyclists by the Han River, from your insta. One of my favorites of yours.”
You feel your eyes itch all of a sudden, a sudden tightness in your throat. You force back the tears that threaten.
“I…thank you.”
His smile gets even bigger, his eyes nearly squeezed shut in his joy.
You need to go. Like now.
“Of course. What are friends for? Or at least, coworkers.” He giggles.
Friends. The spike of anxiety lessens. Because you know what real friendship is. And it’s not in whispers and unspoken rules and carelessness.
It’s thoughtfulness, it’s giving without asking for anything back.
“If you get the job, I expect you to buy me a drink.” His playful words make you tense all the more, because you see it. You see how kind he is.
He sees you.
“I’m kidding,” he says almost as quickly. “I just–”
“I know.” You meet his eyes and smile though you imagine it’s more teary than warm right now. “I’ll definitely buy you another appletini if I get it.”
There’s no RBF right now. Only sparkling eyes, turned up lips, and kindness.
And you need to go.
“Sure. Um, bye.” You race out of there like being chased by a supervillain.
–
It’s the end of the school year, and even though you still work during the summer (a lowly admin’s job is never done), you feel the excitement.
Because you’re changing departments. After photographing and doing promotional shots of the university’s spring musical, Dr. Kim wants you on staff full-time, to capture all of the Performative Arts department; the classes, the productions, even the silly open mics that the students and professors do every month. The website, the newsletter, the alumni magazine; all have a credit of yours by the time May ends.
You feel like maybe you haven’t been treading aimlessly post-university as much as you thought.
“So,” Hyunjin says, before taking a sip of his luminescent green cocktail. He leans on his elbows across from you. “We aren’t in the same department any more.” There’s a pout at the end, a small, silly thing that makes you roll your eyes, but deep down, you think it’s (he) is adorable.
“I know. You’ll have to bug someone new when you forget your password. Again.”
His pout doesn’t leave. “They might be nicer to me.”
In the months that followed that night at the bar, you decided to apologize to him. It was in his office, when he was sorting through papers and you were nearly on your way home for the day. You had succeeded in avoiding Juhye and him for three days when you got the email from Dr. Kim for a quick interview.
So you stopped by to thank him, then apologize for being rude.
“You hated me? Huh. I thought you were just kind of grumpy. It’s cute.”
To say you were simultaneously both flattered and outraged (he’d not even been offended, once?) would be understatement.
He likes to tease you about it now.
“But to go back to my original thought,” he continues, reaching out to steal a fry from your plate. “No longer in the same department. We’ll have to try and see each other instead of just happening to run into each other.” He raises one eyebrow at you.
“Yeah. Ugh, are you a clingy friend?”
“Not really.” He pauses, taking another drink before setting it back down. “I am…a little bit of a clingy boyfriend.”
You’re holding your breath again.
You can acknowledge that you and Hyunjin aren’t just coworkers, he’s not your enemy (if he ever was) anymore. You’re definitely more friends with him than anyone else from work (you’ve pulled away from Juhye and her little group and honestly, you don’t miss them).
Being friends, being friendly and open with Hyunjin has its own drawbacks because now you have to contend with how lovely a person he is; how talented, funny, goofy, and compassionate. Which makes it difficult. When you hated him, he was easy to keep at a distance.
Now that you like him, you might really like him.
“Uh, we aren’t dating.”
“What do you call this?” he asks, nonplussed that he’s brought up your entire relationship as a topic of conversation, as though you’re discussing the weather, or the latest student’s project. He points at your mostly empty plates, his martini glass, your half-full gin and tonic. Then he points at you and then himself.
“I’m paying though.” Spring in academia is a sprint to the finish and though he’d been joking about you owing him a drink if you got the job, you are currently owning up to it now that the semester is over.
“So? Is it only a date if I pay?” He tsks at you. “I thought you were a feminist.”
Your glare doesn’t have the same bite as it used to. It’s too fond.
“This is a date?”
He leans across the table, adjusting his glasses as though it’ll help him see you better. Even with familiarity, you still feel a bit overwhelmed by him.
“I want it to be.”
There is no policy about coworkers dating at your university, just that professionality reigns at the school. There is no reason why you and Hyunjin cannot date. Even though you often feel like professors are on another level compared to the administration.
He’s not even that much older than you.
Perhaps it’s remnants of being so worried that you might break ‘Girl Code’ if you’re at all nice to him because of Juhye’s ‘claim’ that you are hesitant. Maybe you need to acknowledge that he is so much more than what you or Juhye reduced him to in the beginning.
Maybe you realize that you have been ‘dating’ him awhile without even comprehending it.
Maybe you also lean across the table, letting your lips brush against his stunning ones (if you painted like him, those lips would probably show up in a piece) and hear his soft exhale as though he relaxes. Because he realizes it too.
You like each other. A lot.
His soft kiss in return gives you actual heart flutters.
“I guess I don’t mind a clingy boyfriend. Especially one who is still marked with paint on a date.” You point to the streak of white at his jaw.
He takes your hand in his, gaze dropping to look at his drink, but his smile can’t be hidden.
“Good.”
---
(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.
Stray Kids reaction to you grabbing their dick (subtly) around people
Kind of exhibitionist themes. NSFW of course. Nothing too kinky.
Chris:
Ohhhh boy, he's so turned on, but he's also embarrassed because of how much it turns him on. Chris loves your confidence and boldness above all else, so he can't help but feel a little pride when your hands reach behind you to rest against his dick. He really did have pure intensions when he came up behind you for a hug while you were talking to people but his thoughts have definitely turned sinful and he'd be tugging you closer to him so that he could press his dick against your ass all under the guise of being a cute, clingy boyfriend. He'd probably be throbbing against you if someone commented on how cute you two were or how sweet he was to you because he fully intends to have you begging him for mercy when he finally gets you alone. I genuinely just think he would be SO turned on my any hidden dirty displays from you in public where he was the only one who could know what's happening. Call it subtle exhibitionism if you will, but he'd be hard as hell and whispering his dirty thoughts in your ear every time.
"If you want me to bend your pretty ass over the couch when we get home, you coulda just asked me."
Lee Know:
Grins like the Cheshire Cat. He would be SO proud. It's not exactly a secret that you're his personal slut but he just lives for the affirmation of you not being able to keep your needy hands off him. If you're hanging out with the older members when it happens and you subtly slid your hand from his thigh to his dick, he would immediately call you out on it to embarrass you because he knows you'd like it. He's only turned on further when you sass him in response, and he probably wouldn't wait long to be tugging you to a place where he could have you all to himself. He's a bit of an exhibitionist but I think he'd also be possessive, so prepare for him to be taunting you before he lets you touch him further. He'd make you tell him all about how you just couldn't keep your hands to yourself because you're always needy for him. He treats you so so well when he finally lets you have him, and he'd be praising you for being his desperate angel. To him, it would evolve be another form of intimacy unique to you, and it probably becomes a normal habit after a while for you to have your hand on his dick when you're just hanging out.
"Aw, look, my baby just can't keep their hands off me, huh? You're always so desperate."
Changbin:
He wouldn't even realise it was weird at first because you're always groping him, and he does the exact same to you. He's always gripping your ass or your thighs when you're in reach of him, so you gripping his dick when you were sitting at dinner wouldn't register for him until he feels your hand move up his length and when that happens, he's coughing to try and cover up his moan because holy hell is it hot in this place. He's encouraging it for sure, and I think he'd actually like it if one of the other members caught you. It'd probably be Jisung because he's your partner in chaos and he'd see your hand slipping under a blanket when you were relaxing with them, immediately asking if you two ever thought about anything else with a smirk and Changbin would just let out the silliest, excited laugh in response. He loves your hands on him, but he also always manages to get a giggle out of you in most sexual scenarios (which gets him even more riled up because he l o v e s hearing you laugh.)
"Have you SEEN my baby? You're lucky I'm controlling myself right now like a civilised man."
Hyunjin:
He'd be turned on and a little irritated because it almost always happens when you're at an event that you can't leave. You were always flirty with him, and that was perfectly normal and acceptable with people around, but you hugging him and sliding your hand down to grope at his already half hard length was something he really could not find an appropriate reaction to. His expression would almost give it away if he hadn't been whispering a warning to you. Never mind that having you with him and having the two of you being praised for looking so good together while he showed you off already had him counting the seconds until he could get his hands on you. His behaviour wouldn't change throughout the night, but his grip on you would be tighter, and he'd be quieter than usual. You would almost believe he was upset with you if it wasn't for the anamoured smile he couldn't stop whenever you were talking to someone. The second you're in a private spot, he's scolding you for making him feel so out of control.
"I really need you to behave until we get back to the room and I can have you whining under me, ok?"
Jisung:
Confused and needy. Hell, he hardly has time to be confused because they way his body reacts so strongly to you has him pleading in your ear for you to help him relieve a little pressure, your cupped hand resting over his dick after you came to bring him coffee in the studio. He's just glad Chris and Changbin are focused on what they're doing and can't spare any attention to his whining when he pulls you on to his lap so he can hide his face in your hair as he pants against your neck. He's just so sensitive to your touch, and he can't help it. Poor boy is trying so hard not to grip your thighs too hard or fidget too much. Usually, when he's desperate like that, he'd be so vocal, but that's impossible when the other two are so close by. He'd survive MAYBE 10 minutes TOPS of you sitting in his lap before he's trying to convince the boys that he feels sick (which they don't buy, but they don't feel like dealing with him) and he's dragging you back to the door. I think he's just so in love with you that he wants to have you in any way he can at all times.
"Shit... That feels so good baby. No no, please don't stop. I just want a little more."
Felix:
Depending on the day, I think he'd either be kind of cocky and into it, or he'd be bright red (but still into it!). Felix strikes me as someone who has a high sex drive when he feels a deep connection with someone and you just so happened to tend to his needs so well that he's ready to go whenever you show interest. You'd be sitting in the car coming home from something, and your hand would carefully drop to his lap, fingers barely stroking over his dick but he's getting hard regardless. He loves your light, ticklish touches, and his thoughts are spiralling to how they feel on his bare skin and how similar it feels when you trail kisses down his chest and, well, he needs you. He covers your hand with his and presses it down so he gets a little bit of relief but is also stopping you from torturing him any further. Once you're home, he'd playfully call you dirty between kisses and it would entertwine with 'I love you's and whispers of how beautiful you are and how badly he needs to have you touch him again. Lots of messy kisses and giggles before you even make it to the bed.
"You don't even know how hard that was! How am I supposed to act normal when you've got that innocent face and you're touching me like that?"
Seungmin:
I don't care if you're team Dom Minnie or Sub Minnie, I think he'd be FLUSTERED. Seung doesn't strike me as an exhibitionist at all, and he'd react so instantaneously to your touch that it has him aggressively flushed and confused. He'd take a second to respond when he first felt your hand on him, but he'd push it away once it registers, scowling and whisper-yelling that you can't do that when people are around! He doesn't mean to sound harsh, he's just so embarrassed (and maybe also really turned on) that the words come out more aggressively than he intended. Once he's calmed down, though, he'd scoot closer to you and interlock your fingers, gently kissing your cheek and apologising for the way his scolding came out. He loves that you want him, he just needs it to be at a time when he can respond freely. Don't worry though, because he'll make it up to you when you're alone. He'd be kneeling between your legs as quickly as possible, kisses littering your thighs as his hands pushed them apart.
"Let me make show you how much I need you, ok? I wanna taste you."
I.N
Just like Lixxie, he depends on the day. If it's a really public setting, he's embarrassed and moving away from you BUT if it's a small group with maybe one or two of the other members, he's pulling you closer to him and bucking his hips against your hand, encouraging you to continue. On rare occasions like movie nights where you're hidden under fluffy blankets, he wants you to jerk him off. He's a young man, he has a lot of dirty thoughts. It's definitely not his fault! He'd taunt you with whispers of how good he'll make you feel later and how hard he is, all for you and god, when he finally feels your hand wrap around him properly, he has to squeeze his eyes shut and pray that nobody notices his panting or the way he seemingly can't get comfortable all of a sudden. He doesn't like to finish like that, though, and he doesn't think about what anyone says when he drags you to his room. All he cares about is getting his lips on yours, hands groping at whatever he touches first as he cages you against his mattress.
"I know you love seeing me like this. I'm so hard for you. I wanna fuck you so fucking bad."
Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader
Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Teaser Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, kissing, what's a little fucking between frenemies? (fic warnings tbd)
Teaser Word Count: 637 (fic count tbd)
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me
Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.
A/N: Hiiiii. Hyunjin has been wrecking the fuck out of me ever since KCON LA last year, so I had to write a fic to get him out of my system. This is just nothing but tension, teasing, and filthy fucking. Hope that's ok. 😁
My goal is to finish this one up and post by month's end. Taglist is open - comment, reblog, or send an ask to be added! 💕
SKZ Masterlist
“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” Hyunjin's hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric.
“Is that what we are? Friends?”
Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”
“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.
Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?”
You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help.
“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!”
“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.”
Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.
And like that, your resolve starts to slip.
“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it just puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”
Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.
His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs.
Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin.
“I just know.”
You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.
“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.”
And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake.
The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?
warnings: swearing, oral (m receiving), deep throating, use of “bubs”, “baby”, “puppy”, face fucking pretty much, cum play, lmk if i missed one!
inspo: my hopes and ambitions
{ wc: 2706 }
As soon as Seungmin came home you could tell he was frustrated. It was obvious from the way he’d rolled his eyes at seemingly nothing, clearly thinking about something that annoyed him. It was obvious from the way he was completely zoned out during the movie, and the way he simply shrugged when you asked him if he wanted popcorn. Ever since he got his braces off he never said no to popcorn.
Something was clearly bothering him. And considering he was still incredibly sweet to you and hugged your knees during the movie—you knew it had to be something that happened at work.
“Seung, did everything go okay during your lesson?”
“Fine,” he said, entirely too quickly.
You brought your hand to his shoulder, rubbing your thumb against his skin lightly. He exhaled sharply, knowing you caught him in his lie. He was thankful you weren’t pushing him to speak though, and kissed your temple to show his gratitude for you.
“It’s this comeback,” he sighed after a few moments, letting his head fall onto the back of the couch. “It’s kicking my ass.”
“You always say that,” you hum softly, “and it always turns out fine. In fact, you get better with every comeb–”
“--yeah, yeah,” he dismisses quickly, “I know.”
“Then what is it, baby?”
He sighed deeply, letting his eyes scan around the room as he let his thoughts gather in his brain before he could voice them. Then he licked his lips and sighed one more time.
“I’m frustrated,” he started, “hyung keeps saying I’m gonna need a lot of stamina for this song. It’s apparently a really complicated dance and it’s already hard vocally.”
“Then you just need to work on your stamina,” you offered softly.
“Yeah, I know that,” he rolled his eyes, “but I don’t know what the dance is gonna be like so all I can do is practise my vocals while running like some idiot.”
“If that’s what you need to do–”
“--I wish they’d just let me see the dance, but they’re being weirdly secretive about it and I can’t work like this.”
You squeezed his shoulder lightly, trying to distract him from the frustration he was so visibly still feeling. “I can come run with you? Practise the song and we can run around th–”
“--I can’t run anymore,” he shakes his head, “it’s stupid and it’s not even gonna help that much. The stamina you need for dancing isn’t the same as running.”
“Then try and figure out what you need to build your stamina and we can do that if you want,” you try, “or if it’s something you need to do alone. I’m here to help when you need it, Seung.”
“I know,” he turned to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “I just need to figure it out until hyung finally teaches us the choreo.”
You didn’t want to wait for Seungmin to figure it out by himself, you wanted to help him even if it was just a suggestion you could offer him, so instead you decided to confer with the only other vocalist you knew.
Jeongin was helpful, you think, as he offered things like weight lifting and dancing to a choreo Seungmin already knew. Seungmin declined both those suggestions however. He hated weights, and dancing to a different choreo was too confusing for him.
When you asked Chan for his suggestions, swearing him to secrecy because you knew Seungmin didn’t want him to worry–he suggested something quite different.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a proven fact. None of my vocal teachers have ever said this to me, which is probably why the other two haven’t thought about it–but sex is known to build your stamina.”
“Chan, if this is your weird way of saying he just needs to get laid–”
“--have fun!”
And then he ended the call.
You thought it over for a few days, thinking surely Chan was just trying to be a little shit. You knew he was protective of his band members and always wanted to help him, but you also knew he loved stressing you out–so surely that wasn’t sound advice.
Besides, you were almost certain Seungmin wouldn’t be able to focus on his vocals if he was fucking you. Sex was surely not the answer you were looking for.
Even so, the next time Seungmin came home from a vocal lesson with frustration deep on his brows, you decided you wanted his opinion on the matter, too. If it helped him you’d do anything and honestly, when Seungmin started working towards a new comeback he was usually too tired to do anything physical with you when he came home. You wanted to convince yourself you were definitely doing this to help him, and not because it was you that needed to get laid. You weren’t being selfish about this, really. Chan said it could help!
Seungmin shared your opinion that he surely wouldn’t be able to focus on singing at all if you were naked and moaning on top of him, so it would be completely pointless.
“What if I sucked you off, then?” You try, as neutrally as possible.
“How will that help?” He chuckled.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, throwing your hands in the air.
“If you want my dick in your mouth just ask, you don’t need an excuse,” he smirked.
“I promise I do genuinely think this could help,” you pouted at him, “and if it doesn’t you still get your dick wet so it’s a win-win, really.”
“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes to fully sell it as he unbuckled his belt. “I guess you can suck my dick, then.”
You giggled at him, carefully lowering yourself onto the floor.
You watch as Seungmin pulls down his pants, letting them pool onto the floor right in front of your knees. You grab onto his thighs, slowly pulling them apart as you rack your nails across his smooth skin.
You kiss his knee slowly, planting another kiss higher and then higher before nuzzling your face by his stomach. You let your lips ghost near his hip bone, kissing it softly before slowly sucking on the taut skin.
He sucks in a breath, his big hands going to your neck and pushing you closer.
“I can’t hear any singing, Seung,” you say against his skin before making sure to suck a mark into his stomach.
He lets out a small moan, shutting his eyes tightly before he licks his lips.
“Okay, okay,” he lets out, taking in a deep breath, “this might actually work.”
You chuckle to yourself before splaying your hands across his thighs, kneading at the muscles as your lips trail from one hip bone to the other.
Seungmin starts singing, his voice even and strong.
It almost bothers you, how controlled his voice is, and so you run your hand from his inner thigh to his crotch. He isn’t fully hard yet, and you’re sure he’s trying to bring all his focus on the right notes and words.
You’re gonna have to help him, then.
You kiss along his tip, soft and slow. Open mouthed kisses, trailing from the head all the way to the base while you use your other hand to softly run your nails across his inner thigh.
You can feel his cock growing harder, warmer against your lips.
His voice is still too even for your liking.
You spit in your hand, licking the wetness around to make sure it’s fully wet–and it’s then you notice the singing has stopped. You look up questioningly.
“What is it?”
“That was so fucking hot,” he lets out. His eyes are clouded, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth.
“Don’t stop singing,” you order him instead, trying your best to ignore the way your walls flutter at his intense stare.
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, nodding slowly before he tries to remember what part of the song he got to. He can’t really recall, having been too turned on by your actions so he simply starts again from the beginning.
You spit in your hand one more time, Seungmin shutting his eyes tightly at the sight, before you start stroking his cock. You keep going until he’s fully hard, when he starts singing what you think is the chorus–and then you take him in your mouth.
You push him inside your throat until you start choking slightly and then you hollow out your cheeks. You start bobbing your head right away, up and down as fast as you can take it without gagging.
The singing stops again.
You look up at him, blinking a few tears away, waiting for him to keep singing.
He doesn’t.
Instead he brings his thumb to the corner of your eye, wiping the wetness away and moaning.
“Your mouth is so warm,” he sighs, as if in a dream. “You take my cock so good, bubs.”
You pull away. Seungmin brings a hand to the back of your head, trying to push you back down but you push his wrist away.
“That’s not the deal, puppy,” you remind him, “I stop when you stop.”
“I can’t focus on the song when you gag like that,” he whines.
You push up on your knees to kiss him softly on the lips. “Try.”
He groans in response, lulling his head from one side to the other before he opens his eyes with a new found determination in them.
“Alright,” he says, “let’s go.”
Seungmin is known for his dutifulness, is known for his strong mind and level-headedness. You can’t ignore just how wet it makes you to know you have the power to make him lose his focus, but you can’t think about that too much. If you do, you won’t care about helping him anymore and you’d start begging him to fuck you.
No, you can’t do that. You both need to focus on his stamina right now.
You wait for Seungmin to sing again, starting from the very beginning of the song one more time, before you let his dick slide all the way down your throat again.
You make sure to breathe through your nose, swallowing around him every few seconds.
Once you start moving slowly, making sure to tuck your teeth behind your lips as much as you can, you see his stomach clenching tightly as he keeps singing. He’s still hitting all the notes, you think, but he takes deeper breaths between each line.
He doesn’t sound as controlled anymore.
The knowledge of that spurs you on, and you start moving your tongue up and down against the underside of his cock. You can trace the vein there with your tongue, can feel it pulsing heavily inside your mouth.
You move your head up and down, as fast as you can possibly go, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.
Seungmin’s panting above you, his fingers buried in your hair as he pushes you further down his cock. He’s still singing, but only barely, and at this point you aren’t too sure if you care anymore.
You feel spit sliding down the corner of your mouth and you try to suck it all back in, but it’s too late. It’s messy, dribbling all the way down your chin and onto Seungmin’s smooth thigh. You don’t care about the mess, either.
You barely care about the aching wetness between your legs, too busy with the salty taste hitting the back of your throat in small intervals with each time Seungmin messes up and moans mid-note.
You hear him repeating the same line three times, trying to get the notes just right but failing as you gag around his tip after a particularly deep thrust from his part.
You aren’t sure when he started fucking into your mouth but you let him, relaxing your jaw as much as you can and breathing deeply every time his cock hits your throat like that.
He brings his other hand, the one that isn’t pushing and pulling your hair, around your throat.
He doesn’t apply any pressure, but you know he’s trying to feel just how deep he is inside you–and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You aren’t sure when he started moving and how you didn’t notice, but he buries his hand in your underwear, moaning at your wetness.
“Look how wet you get when I fuck your mouth,” he moans deeply, “bet you actually did make this up just so you could suck my dick.”
You can’t answer him, but you try your best to nod as he pushes his cock in and out of your mouth. It isn’t even true, you did actually want to help, but when Seungmin uses that tone with you you’d agree with anything he says.
“My little baby loves sucking cock so much,” he chuckles at you, sliding two fingers inside you with ease, “gonna get me addicted to your mouth like this.”
You moan, your throat closing in around his dick as you feel the vibrations from your vocal cords around Seungmin’s hand. He grabs your chin, pulling it down further as he pulls your bottom lip down.
“Gonna cum down your throat, yeah?” He asks, just to make sure you can take it–and your wide eyes tell him there’s nothing more you want in that moment.
He slumps back into the couch, both hands on each of your cheeks to keep you in place as he starts fully fucking into your mouth–shameless as he lets his moans spill out into the air.
You aren’t sure what was prettier, this or his singing, but you want to hear either and both for the rest of your life.
You grab onto his knees for some sort of support as his thrusts move quickly and ungracefully–until he’s grabbing onto your hair and spilling inside your mouth.
You welcome the salty taste happily, letting your tongue touch the roof of your mouth as the bitterness takes over your senses. Before you can swallow, Seungmin grabs your chin and opens your mouth.
“Let me see, bubs,” he pants, chest heaving in the aftermath of his orgasm, “show me how dirty I made you.”
You stick your tongue out, trying your best to keep his cum on it and not let it spill, but Seungmin clearly has other plans.
He presses his finger into your tongue, watching as the thick whiteness coating your tongue slips down your lips and onto your chest.
“So fucking dirty,” he mumbles, gathering the cum that hasn’t spilled and pushing it back into your mouth.
As if in a trance, he pushes it in deeper, gathering everything with his fingers before nodding at you slightly–silently telling you to swallow it now. When you stick your tongue back out there’s nothing but spit around your mouth, and Seungmin pushes your chin down to let it spill onto your shirt, too.
“Did it help?” You ask after a few moments, the spaced out look in Seungmin’s eyes still very much present. You can’t ignore just how rough your voice sounds, and it sends another wave of arousal into your pussy.
“Did what help?” He blinks at you.
“The stamina,” your voice is almost gone, “did fucking my face help your stamina?”
Seungmin chuckles, leaning back into the couch and pulling you with him. You ignore the slight ache in your knees–you’re gonna have to treat some rug burns later–and joining him on the couch as he pulls you into his arms.
“I think so,” he sighs, wiping your chin with the back of his hand, “but now I know for a fact every time I sing that song I’m gonna want to fuck your face again.”
You suppress the moan building up in your chest. “Maybe this time you should take me on tour, then.”
“So I can fuck your face every night?” He challenges, eyebrows high on his face.
You nod quickly.
“You got a fucking deal, bubs,” he laughs, leaning his head back on the pillows and letting out the most content sigh you’ve heard from him all week.
warnings: minors dni, swearing, use of pet names, nipple play, fingering, protected sex
summary: after a night where the two of you accidentally end up cuddling on his bed, you and minho are forced to confront the feelings you’ve had for each other all along.
(a/n): *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? cheers to my first fic of 2024!! i have a goal to start writing more this year, so expect to see more of me in the near future! i have plans for a full fic, which is pretty exciting. please accept this as an offering for my re-entry into the world of smut writing. i hope it lives up to your expectations and more. again, feedback is always appreciated! much love! <3
“I’ve watched you make Miles circle Harlem Station enough times to memorize the entire layout. If it wasn’t in there the first time, why do you think it’ll be there now?”
Your character pauses mid-run as you turn to scowl at Minho, the quest prompt taunting you on the left side of the screen.
He blinks like he’s asked an innocent question, like he didn’t just state the obvious to rub salt further into your pathetic wound. “I’m trying to cover all of my bases here, Min. What if I missed something?”
“You know, most people who discover they have superpowers take it as a sign to do something impactful with their life. Become a hero. Start a crime syndicate. Something.”
“But…?”
“But not Miles Morales. No, he figures he wants a silly purple suit and wages psychological warfare on innocent people with nothing better to do. Inspiring, really.”
You groan, picking the controller back up as Minho prods at your side with his foot. “You’re so unhelpful.”
You’ve been at it for a while now, perched on the edge of Minho’s bed, taking up residence in his room while he doom scrolls on his phone, splayed out against his pillows.
Your hangouts are quiet for the most part. But then again, that’s how it’s always been for you and Minho—mutually shared silence. More comfortable with each other as you both coexist in the same space than anywhere else.
It also just so happens that Minho has a PS5 and you don’t. Something about it being a Christmas present from his very rich, very financially irresponsible roommate who thinks anything expensive is a good gift m, even if Minho has never so much as touched a console a day in his life.
You made a joke about it back then, something along the lines of “Hey, do you think Changbin needs a girlfriend that he can buy another one for?” to which Minho had thrown you an unreadable look and mumbled that you could come over and use it whenever you wanted. You would never ask him to do that, because you’re a good friend. So thankfully, he’d offered on his own.
Minho is a good friend too. He lets you come over, lets you grab at your hair in frustration while he watches, and even looks things up for you when you really need it. Not that you ever do, because you’re a firm believer in finishing games with integrity rather than pulling up a wiki on how to do it step by step.
But hey, if Minho throws you a very helpful, very not-looked-up tip every once in a while, who are you to complain?
Miles Morales is pretty busy as a teenager. In between learning how to be Spiderman, going to school, and fighting crime, he seemingly always has another side mission for you to do.
You throw yourself back into the game, searching high and low for the sound samples that you need to complete the quest while Minho’s phone spews facts about the molting process of komodo dragons somewhere behind you. Probably another one of his animal life documentaries.
Another hour passes, the sky completely dark outside the window above Minho’s desk. You’ve circled Harlem Station another five times, searching all the same spots, running into walls and alleyways along the street in hopes that something, anything will turn up. Your back is starting to cramp, shoulders tense, so you roll your neck a few times and stretch your arms above your head.
You yawn and lean backwards, fully expecting a pillow to catch you on the way down. Except you fail to remember just how small Minho’s bed is, especially with two people on it, and collide with his chest.
“Shit, sorry,” you say quickly, sitting back up, “Didn’t know you were behind me.”
There’s no time to react, no time to process what’s happening before Minho’s arm is wrapping around you and you’re being guided back down into his chest.
Your body goes rigid, but then you realize that’s probably weird, so you force yourself to relax. Minho doesn’t say anything, just keeps his attention fixed on his phone screen, footage of a baby red panda rolling around in a pile of bamboo sticks playing at a low volume.
You and Minho don’t do this. You’ve never done this.
You and Minho are best friends. When you were younger, the people in your neighborhood even went as far to call the two of you soulmates. Always attached at the hip, never separated. But even after all of that, all the years of hangouts and sleepovers and taking up space in each other's lives, you and Minho have never cuddled.
Is this cuddling?
You brave a glance in Minho’s direction just to find that he’s still locked in on the documentary. If you focus too hard, you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the rhythmic beating of his heart between your shoulder blades.
This doesn’t have to be weird. It’s fine, really. You and Minho are more than qualified as friends, best friends, to do this. Absolutely.
You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as you count to four, and reach for the controller again, allowing yourself to fully relax into Minho.
For a split second you can’t help but think that this is definitely better than laying against pillows. Minho is broad, his shoulders wide and chest big enough for you to melt into one side comfortably. Pillows are lumpy and inconsistent and definitely don’t radiate heat the way Minho is right now, soft puffs of air hitting the top of your head as he breathes.
To no surprise, you find it hard to get back into the game. Miles is running into walls and missing all of his web shots as your brain struggles to keep up, lagging because of the way Minho’s body is firm beneath yours.
You’re jolted out of your thoughts when Minho shifts, his elbow coming up to rest against your shoulder and—oh.
Minho slides his fingers into your hair without a second thought, blunt nails dragging against your scalp as they card through leisurely.
Your stomach twists and turns as an unfamiliar fluttering feeling settles deep within your gut. It’s so unfair, the fact that you feel like your heart is about to sprout wings and fly out of your chest while Minho scrolls through instagram like this is a normal Friday night activity for him.
To make things worse, Minho decides he’s going to rest his cheek against the side of your head, the contact adding the overwhelming feeling of—whatever it is that you’re experiencing.
“Doing okay?” Minho asks after a while. His eyes glance over at where Miles is standing in the middle of the street, salsa dancing after sitting idle for the better part of five minutes. You jerk the joystick quickly.
“Yup!” You say a little too quickly. “Yeah, great, good.”
“Tired? I can drive you home.” His hand is still moving softly against your head, slow strokes that make it hard to fight the sleepiness nipping at the back of your mind.
“‘S okay, Min. I can walk.”
Minho’s brow furrows as he shifts to look down his nose at you. You turn your head up at the same time, and it’s then that you realize just how close your faces are.
“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna let you walk. I have a car, come on.” He says, sitting up and pushing you with him.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles, grabbing his keys off the nightstand. “Anything for you, yeah?”
The drive to your dorm is quiet. Changbin and Minho live an easy two blocks down from campus. Although Minho is still in school, he was quick to jump at the opportunity to get away from dorm life. Anything to ease the hole that his parents were no doubt burning into their pockets to send him to school in Seoul.
You really could have walked. It takes less than five minutes for Minho’s car to roll to a stop in front of your dorm building, a few students passing by as they return from the library.
“You’re coming over again tomorrow?” He asks, turning to look at you. His left hand grips the steering wheel, and you can’t help but notice how even in the dark his eyes still have that same shine.
“Oh, you—do you want me to?”
Minho snorts, glances forward for a second before returning his gaze back to you. “‘Course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
You fiddle with your hands in your lap. It’d be weird to say “I don’t know I just thought that you might be weirded out that we cuddled” in a situation like this, right?
“I just thought—” you stop, shaking your head, “Nevermind. Yeah, I’ll—yeah. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Minho watches while you get out of the car, eyebrows furrowed as he follows your every move. Not so much confused, more worried than anything.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, leaning down to peer up at you through the window.
“Yes, I promise. Goodnight, Min, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Minho blinks a few times before giving up. He breaks out into a grin, and you ignore the smattering of butterfly wings in your chest.
“Night.”
You and Minho cuddle now. It’s a thing. Has been for weeks since that first time.
Every night is the same: you play for a bit, Minho watches his documentaries, and somehow in the middle of it all you find yourself pressed against his chest while he plays with your hair.
You’ve learned how to effectively handle the rapid beating of your heart every time too. Minho, still as casual as ever, hasn’t mentioned it even if he’s noticed.
Tonight is no different. You’re still looking for the stupid sound samples. Miles is running through back alleys in between brick buildings and graffitied walls, nothing to show for it.
School has been shit, too. The past few weeks have brought an increase in assignments and finals are just around the corner, which means you’ll no doubt be typing out multiple page papers in no time. All you want to do is beat this stupid game so you can have some sort of achievement to quell the misery you’ll be subjected to in about a week’s time.
It’s also become increasingly hard to ignore the shift in you and Minho’s relationship. If you can even call it that.
On the surface level, nothing has changed. But there are little things here and there, little moments that are so small they almost go unnoticed.
When the two of you go out, the touches he leaves on your arms or waist linger for longer than they used to whenever he passes by. There’s glances stolen and smiles shared that leave your cheeks flushed pink and his ears red. And, to top it all off, you’ve realized that you’re more anxious whenever you’re not in Minho’s arms, a result of knowing how it feels to have him so close and being unable to forget even after he’s gone.
Because when you’re in Minho’s arms, the world ceases to exist. Stars align and burn so bright that you feel like your entire body is on fire.
Minho’s arms feel right.
Your feelings about Minho have always been clear. He’s your best friend, your other half, someone you’ve never once had to question about his place in your life.
Minho is a constant, steady reminder that no matter what happens you’ll always have a place to run to, a place to be.
That’s what makes this so scary. The tightening of your heart when his hands find purchase in your hair, petting and scratching and making you feel things you’ve never felt before. The warmth of his chest against your back as the two of you exist together inside the walls of his bedroom, no one to judge you or make you feel like you need to think about anything other than Minho, Minho, Minho.
You’ve had crushes before. You’ve dealt with the dizziness of attraction and longing. Not with Minho though. Not like this. And because of that, it feels wrong.
There’s no way Minho feels the same, no way he’s doing this every night because he also can’t sleep once he’s in bed, his mind full of thoughts that include you and the lingering feeling of your touch on his skin or the scent of your shampoo in his nose. Not the way yours is.
Minho’s last girlfriend was named Yeji. She had hair the color of fire and a sparkle in her eye that made you feel like maybe you didn’t have it all figured out the way she did. She kept herself wrapped around his arm and looked at him like he hung the stars. Her love for Minho was fierce and explosive and his for her all the same.
You’ve never been the jealous type, but thinking about it now you realize that maybe whatever feelings you’re harboring for Minho have always been there—if your annoyance during their relationship was anything to go by.
It was hard for you to be around when he was with Yeji; sometimes you’d leave gatherings early, or you’d decline invites to hang out. At one point, Minho had to corner you in front of your dorm building because you’d stopped answering his texts to come over.
It wasn’t your fault though. It was unfair for him to expect you to want to be around them, to sit and watch as he held her hand or planted kisses on her head, to be subjected to feeling like you’d never be able to find something similar to what they had. Absolutely impossible, like squeezing water from a stone.
But regardless, you powered through it. Bit the bullet and stuck it out because you knew that at the end of the day if the only way you’d be able to have Minho by your side was by being nothing more than a friend then you’d take it. Because at least then it would—
Fuck.
Fuck.
You’re in love with Minho.
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Miles is salsa dancing in the middle of the street, taunting you.
“Stop that.” Minho says, his eyes burning holes into the back of your head.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking. I can hear it from all the way over here.”
“Sorry.” you mumble.
“Want to talk about it?”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “It’s nothing, really. I just—I have a lot on my mind.”
It’s not a lie. You do have a lot on your mind. You’re just leaving out the part where you mention that it’s him.
“Hmm,” Minho hums like he knows. Like he’s experiencing the same thing. Maybe he is. A part of you dares to hope. “Do you want to cuddle? Will that help?”
You swallow around a lump in your throat as his words carve out the inside of your chest, leaving you hollow.
So you have been cuddling. You were scared to call it that out loud, weren’t sure if you were allowed to.
Already beside yourself, you nod, scooching towards him.
Minho shifts upwards on the bed, his back against the pillows, and parts his knees. You stop, confused, until he’s grabbing your arm and guiding you in between his legs, your back against his chest. He lets his chin rest on the top of your head, one hand resting on the side of your thigh and the other holding his phone.
“Better?”
No. You think you’re going to die. “Yes, thank you.”
Minho starts playing with your hair, just like he always does. He scrolls through instagram where you can see, stops on a post, double taps, keeps scrolling. When a funny video comes up, he laughs and waits for you to laugh too. It’s so intimate, so unlike the two of you, but for some reason it feels normal. Unlike your frazzled brain five minutes ago, Minho’s hold brings forth a sense of clarity that you’re certain you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.
Minho makes you feel seen, warm, safe.
And you’re undeniably in love with him.
When he notices you squirming, he steadies you by pulling up his knees to incase you into him further.
“I can sing you a song. You used to like that, yeah?” He asks, bumping the tip of his nose against the crown of your head.
You did use to like that. You still do. But it’s been so long since Minho last sang to you, maybe since middle school, so you never had the courage to ask.
“Only if you want to.”
“Anything for you, remember?” Minho says with conviction, like he doesn’t have to think about it twice. His certainty knocks the air out of your lungs.
Minho’s chest rumbles when he starts to sing, his voice taking on a soft cadence that makes you feel like you’re floating on air. Unlike his higher pitch when you were younger, Minho’s voice is deep and rich and hits every note with practiced ease.
Minho’s voice was always your favorite. You could listen to any song, try and distract yourself with music and a pair of headphones, but nothing ever worked quite like Minho’s singing did. And now, as you sit between his legs, his hand tangled in the strands of your hair, you don’t think that anything will ever be able to compare.
You’re completely melted into him by the time he’s done, your bodies alloying together in a way that makes your insides twist and turn. Minho continues his motions through your hair, humming softly, and then, “Was that okay?”
“More than okay.” You sigh. “Loved it. Love you.”
The confession hangs in the air, leaden and haunting. You don’t process what you’ve said until the damage is already done. Your ears fill with static, your blood running cold.
Minho’s hand stills, so does his chest, like he’s no longer breathing.
No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is his fault. His stupid singing. His stupid warmth. Him, him, him.
Minho, Minho, Minho.
You sit up quickly, trying to hide the tremble of your voice when you manage to squeak out a few words. “I should get going.”
Miles is still salsa dancing on the tv. Minho blinks a few times as you scramble to grab your things, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So much for not wanting to make things weird. So much for trying to be normal. Way to fucking go.
The sinking feeling in your gut worsens when Minho doesn’t move, doesn’t even bother to say anything. He just watches, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to stop you but he can’t find it in him to do so. You don’t blame him.
You’re halfway out the door of his bedroom when he finds his voice again. The same voice that was just filling your ears not too long ago, except this time it’s strained.
“Wait, don’t—”
“I’m not sure if I’ll be over tomorrow. I have to study.”
Minho’s hand stops where it was beginning to reach out for you. He lets it fall to his side, his eyes shifting to the floor. Part of you wants to hear him out, wants to see if maybe he’s not as repulsed as you think he is, but the other part of you knows you can’t handle any of that right now.
“Oh,” he whispers, “Okay. You’re gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” You lie. “Sorry.”
Minho looks up, something like hurt flickering across his face, and that’s all you need to see before you’re bolting out the door and into the night air.
The tears begin to fall as soon as Minho’s apartment is out of sight. It feels like someone’s reached inside your chest and grabbed your heart in their fist, twisting and twisting until the pain becomes unbearable. All those years as friends, all the effort you put into making sure nothing would ruin your relationship with Minho down the drain in a millisecond.
You find yourself in a secluded corner of the courtyard near your dorm building, eyes swollen and red as you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t anymore. There’s no one around, only the soft whistling of the wind as it whips past your face. You wish you hadn’t left, wish that you were back in Minho’s arms so you could parse through every feeling clawing at your brain.
You’re not sure how long you stay out there, but by the time you’re dragging your feet into the dorm lobby the student worker at the front desk is half asleep. The elevator ride up is miserable, your red-rimmed eyes staring back at you in the reflection of the ceiling. Your head hurts, your heart hurts, everything hurts.
You’re about to turn the corner when you hear Minho's voice, frantic and pleading.
“Y/n, just, let’s talk okay? I know you’re in there, please open the door.”
He’s standing with his forehead pressed to the wood, hand above his head as he knocks weakly. All it takes is one hesitant step forward for him to catch sight of you in his periphery.
“Minho?” You strain, the lump in your throat growing again. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes go wide when he turns to face you, his cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling as if he just finished running a marathon. “I didn’t—I thought that you—” He glances back and forth between you and the door.
You let your eyes travel down his body, stopping when you notice his feet clad in nothing but his house slippers. He’s not even wearing a jacket, his t-shirt uneven at the neck, hair wild from the wind.
“I ran here.” He says once he notices your stare. “I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. I was stupid.”
You force yourself to look up after the last word leaves his mouth, your eyes searching his. “Min—”
“Are you okay?” He cuts you off, rushing forward. He wraps one hand around your wrist, lifting your arm to inspect for damages. When he doesn’t find any, he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, brows furrowing when he notices how puffy your eyes are.
“You’ve been crying.”
“I haven’t, it’s just windy out there.”
“Stop lying.” He mumbles. “You can’t lie to me.”
“It’s fine.” You try to say, stepping back. His hands fall back down to his sides. “It’s nothing. I just need to sleep.”
You shoulder past him, keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the tears that are already starting to form. You’d rather not look more pathetic than you already do. There’s nothing he can say to fix this, this is your problem. Something that you’ll have to live with and move past even if it hurts.
“I love you too.”
The world around you stops moving. There’s a ringing in your ears, static spreading throughout your entire body. If it wasn’t for your death grip on the door handle, you probably would’ve fallen to the floor.
You turn, painfully slow, and come face to face with Minho’s similarly fearful eyes.
“If you meant it the way I think you did, I love you too.”
“You’re just saying that,” you whisper, “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, okay? It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said it. I got too caught up in my own head and I accidentally—”
“Don’t.” Minho croaks, eyes glossy. “Don’t tell me it was a mistake. Don’t bullshit me.”
“What are you—”
“Actually, no, fuck it.” He sighs, closing the distance by a few steps. “You got your turn, now it’s mine. I meant what I said even if you didn’t. I love you. I’m in love with you. I’m sorry I let you leave without saying it back. I froze up because I never thought that I would hear you say it first.”
It’s your turn to open and close your mouth, words lost. Minho is looking at you like you might disappear if he even so much as blinks. His voice is thick, like there’s a layer of fear coating his throat as he forces the words out one by one.
“I thought I could live with it, I thought that I could stand never being able to tell you. But then I got a taste of how it felt to have you so close to me and, God, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Every night after you leave feels like an eternity until you come back the next day.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Why do you think I haven’t just given you my console? Why do you think I force myself to focus on youtube videos whenever you’re over? I needed a reason to keep asking you to come back. I needed something to distract myself from wanting to hold you close and tell you how badly I want you to stay.”
He lets out a shaky breath, his chest heaving up and down like he’s just finished running a marathon.
“I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong. Maybe you didn’t mean it like that, maybe you just want to be friends. But these past few weeks of having you with me every night, of being able to hold you and pretend for just a moment that you’re mine, have made me so unbelievably happy. You have no idea. So, please, if this isn’t what you want, tell me. But I need you to know that I love you, too. And I’m sorry that I didn’t say it back when I had the chance.”
Minho looks at you like you’re holding his heart in your hands, broken and bleeding. He doesn’t know that he’s owned yours since the moment you met, since he flashed you that lopsided grin and you knew that you were always going to be his.
“I meant it.” You say slowly, watching as he swallows hard. “I meant it the same way you did. I love—mmmnfgh!”
Minho’s kissing you before you even get the chance to properly say it back. He brings his hand up to rest on the back of your head, holding you in place while he slots his lips together with yours. It’s soft, gentle, almost as if he’s scared he might break you. If he really wanted to, you’d let him.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours and drops his hands to your waist.
“What does this mean?” You whisper into the space between your lips.
Minho sighs. “It means that I love you, and you love me. We can figure out the rest later. Together.”
That’s all the permission you need to pull him back into you by the collar of his shirt, smashing your lips together in a kiss much more urgent than the last. You let him push you backwards into your dorm, kicking the door closed with his foot as soon as you’re inside. Minho walks the two of you in the direction of your bed against the far wall, and you silently pat yourself on the back for saving up to afford the single room this year.
You let out a noise when the backs of your knees hit the bed and you go tumbling backwards, Minho landing on top of you with a grunt. Your lips are still attached, almost like you’re glued together, and Minho grins.
“Stop smiling,” you mumble, “I can’t kiss you when you’re smiling.”
He pulls away, trailing kisses up the side of your cheek, over your nose, down the other cheek, laughing. “We can’t have that can we?”
The third time Minho kisses you is different. His movements are slower, more sensual, and you gasp when his tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You let him in, a strangled moan escaping when he slots his leg in between yours, applying pressure.
“Min—”
“Fuck. Sorry.” He says quickly. “We don’t have to—I should’ve—”
“No,” you say, sitting up. He blinks at you a few times, watches as you place your hands on his chest, run them down the length of his torso until they reach the hem of his shirt. “I want this. I want you.”
Minho’s eyes darken as he brings a hand up to your face, hooking his thumb and forefinger just below your ear as he cups your jaw. “You,” he breathes out, touching his nose to yours, “You drive me crazy.”
“Good ‘crazy’ or bad ‘crazy’?” You ask, letting him guide you back down until you’re flat against the bed. He plants his knees on either side of you, drops his body until you’re chest to chest, and starts placing open mouth kisses along your neck. You squirm beneath him, squeezing your thighs together as the desire in your stomach builds.
“Good.” He mumbles against your skin, sucking at the spot just above your collarbone. “So fucking good.”
Minho lets you pull his shirt over his head, the dip between his shoulder blades visible when he drops back down to remove your sweater, mouthing between the peaks of your breasts as soon as it’s off. You arch your back into him, groaning when he reaches around to unclasp your bra.
“This okay?” he asks, throwing it to the floor.
“More than okay,” you whisper, “Feels good.”
Minho wastes no time in taking one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling the other one between his fingers as you writhe beneath him, your lower half looking for some sort of friction. He brings his knee back in between your legs, presses his thigh against your core and clenches the muscle.
“Use it,” he mumbles, teeth biting at the flesh of your chest, “Let me feel you.”
A broken whine escapes your lips when you grind down onto his thigh, the pressure making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re so wet already, clenching around nothing as Minho continues to lick and suck at your breasts.
“Min.” You moan, tangling your fingers in his hair. “Not enough. Need you. Please.”
“Fuck.” Minho growls, propping himself up on his elbows. He stares into your eyes, lips swollen and pink. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Tell me.” You plead, your vision going blurry when one of his hands behind stroking the side of your stomach. Minho’s fingers are slender, soft to the touch, and you think you could get the shape of them tattooed as a reminder that the two of you existed in this moment in time together.
“I’ve been thinking about you forever. More in the past few weeks, but, you’ve always been there. Always in the back of my mind. You’re so pretty. The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I—” he laughs, ducks his head for a moment before looking back up, “I never thought I’d be able to have you like this.”
His hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants, and you bite your lip to stop the moan from leaving your lips when the pads of his fingers dip into your folds.
“Like I said, you drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted someone, anything, the way I want you. I—fuck, y/n.”
“I’m here now. I want you. Need you. Have me, Minho.” You moan, clenching when he pushes a finger in.
Minho swears under his breath, kisses you through the process of removing both of your pants, the loss of his fingers leaving you empty as you throb with want, with need.
“Do you have—”
“Top drawer.” You cut him off, jerking your head in the direction of your night stand. Minho smirks before reaching over and pulling out a condom. He takes a second to roll it on, your mouth pooling with spit at the sight of him.
He’s big. Unbelievably big. You swallow when he lines himself up at your entrance, lowering himself as he cages your head in between his elbows. “I’ll go slow,” he whispers, placing a chaste kiss on your lips, “Want to take my time, remember this forever.”
“Sap.” You giggle, gripping his shoulders.
He kisses you again, smiling into it. “Only for you. Anything for you, remember?”
“I remember.” You grin. He kisses you, messy and wet until you’re melting into the mattress, and then Minho pushes the head of his cock inside.
“Oh God,” you whine, burying your face into his neck. Minho brings a hand down to sooth you by rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb as you mumble into his neck, broken noises escaping your throat as he pushes himself in further.
“That’s it, baby, just like that. You feel so good, let me hear you.” He grunts, picking up a steady pace.
It’s so much all at once. The feeling of Minho’s cock filling you to completion, the warmth of his firm chest against yours, the iron grip he has on your hip, probably bruising. You hope it bruises. Hope that it’ll stay, a permanent mark just like the one he has on your heart.
Minho is so beautiful like this, hanging over you with his hair dangling in his face as he gives you his all—gives you the world. You’re dizzy with want. With love.
Minho thrusts into you like you’re his, taking you apart from the inside out. He touches you with fire in his fingertips and leaves a trail of ice in their wake. His moans are broken, strained, falling from his lips like a mantra as he says your name over and over again with every snap of his hips.
“You’re incredible.” He says against your lips, your teeth clacking together. “It’s you. It’s always been you. Will always be you.”
You let him wrap his arms behind your back completely, gasping when he pulls you upright, your body pressed against his chest as he sets you both in a sitting position. He leans his head back, moans when you angle down into the kiss, bouncing slightly to meet him halfway as he continues thrusting upwards into you.
It’s so much—everything you’ve ever wanted and more. The feeling of Minho beneath your fingertips, your hands exploring every inch of him, from his chest to his back, stopping at the base of his neck as you moan into his mouth. You’re not sure if you’ll ever recover, not when you've gotten a taste of what heaven feels like.
Minho falls back against the pillows, letting his hands find purchase on your waist as he helps lift you up, his hips smacking into yours at a pace that has your head spinning.
“Min—ah. I’m so close.” You cry out, digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Fuck, me too. You’re so beautiful. So, so, beautiful. The most beautiful person in the world. Let go for me. Be mine.”
Abdomen clenching, completely filled, you cum with a sob of Minho’s name, him following right behind as he spurts into the condom. Minho whispers reassurances into your ear the entire time, rubs soothing hands up and down your back as you both ride it out until you collapse against his chest.
“Baby,” Minho croaks, sliding his fingers into your hair. “Jesus, y/n—”
“Was that okay?” You ask. “Are you regretting it?”
“What? No.” Minho soothes, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Of course not. I would never regret that, would never regret you.” There’s an air of finality to his voice. He’s sure.
You stay pressed together for a long while after that. Eventually, Minho moves to clean up, and you allow yourself to be wiped down and dressed in the same t-shirt he came in. When he’s done, Minho pulls you into his bare chest, fits your head under his chin so that he can nuzzle his face into your hair.
“Hi.” He whispers, taking a deep breath.
“Hi.” You say back, closing your eyes.
“This is kind of a mess, isn’t it?” You ask when he starts drawing circles into your hip bone.
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know.” You sigh. “It doesn’t feel real. I’m scared I’m gonna wake up and you’ll be gone.”
Minho tightens his arms around you, drops a firm kiss on your forehead. “I would never. And as far as it being a mess goes, I don’t care. I’m happy as long as you’re happy. This is whatever we want it to be. At the end of the day, it’s you and me. Mess and all.”
You smile into his neck, brushing your lips against his skin. “Promise?”
Minho nods, lets his chin knock against the top of your head. “Promise.”
“I love you, Min.” You say with certainty this time, wanting him to know that you mean it. You vow to yourself that you’ll never let him go without knowing again.
“I love you, too.”
“Min! Look!”
Minho’s entire body jolts awake, phone flying out of his hand and tumbling off the bed. You’re too ecstatic to care that you’ve just woken him up, not when you’ve finally gotten that stupid purple suit.
“The last sound sample! I did it!” You exclaim as you throw yourself at him. He laughs lightly, kisses your cheek as you giggle over the sounds of Miles’ uncle finally gracing him with the Purple Reign suit.
“Only took you, like, a month.”
“Shut up.” You groan, swatting at his chest. “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?” Minho asks, his brows disappearing into his hairline. You stretch yourself in between his legs, your chin coming to rest on his stomach as you look up at him with a pout.
“It’s hard to find time to play when my boyfriend is so needy.”
“Oh I’m needy?” Minho laughs, pinching your cheeks on either side.
You retaliate by biting his thigh, not expecting the groan that he immediately lets out. You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking when you notice the slight bulge in his pants. “See what I mean?” You ask, squealing when he reaches down to pull you up towards him, flipping you over so he can press you into the mattress with a kiss.
Seen, loved, warm. Minho makes you feel like you’re the luckiest person in the world. He holds you like he’s scared to let go and loves you harder than you’ve ever been loved before.
Soulmates. Attached at the hip. Two imperfect halves of the same perfect whole. It’s always been Minho. You’ve known since the start, ever since you first laid eyes on him.
warnings: non-idol au, marriage au, intended lower-case usage, poly!relationship between reader, hyunjin, & felix, threesome, swearing, alcohol consumption, oral sex (reader & felix receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this), cumming inside (don't do this), impreg kink, praise kink, small mommy kink, dom/sub dynamics, confessions of love.. i think that covers everything, let me know if i missed something!
summary: you decide to celebrate your third wedding anniversary by having a romantic picnic with lots of wine and two horny husbands.
this is a fictional story. nothing in this fan-fiction represents hyunjin, felix, or stray kids as a whole. NOR does it represent their relationships with each other.
read at your own risk.
____
three years have passed since your wedding day. over one thousand days of being cared for and adored by both of your partners.
you had met hyunjin first, he was a regular at the same library you attended every monday, wednesday, and friday. he was a stranger, but he made sure that didn’t last. as each day passed, his stolen glances grew more frequent and his proximity grew closer and closer until you both could be spotted at the same table, quietly bickering over the novel you were both reading.
it wasn’t long after that hyunjin mustered up the courage to ask you out. the library was rigidly silent before hyunjin came out with it, “would you like to come over for dinner tonight? i’ve been dying to try this pasta recipe but it feeds two and i hate leftovers.” his face turning a pale shade of red before everting his gaze from yours.
naturally, you accepted and the rest was history. you two were shamelessly in love ever since.
you two had been together for a year before you met felix for the first time.
you and hyunjin met felix during a night out at a local bar. it was karaoke night and you had enough liquid courage to storm the main stage and sing your heart out to the lyrics of “My Heart Will Go On” by celine dion. Hyunjin admired you from the table you were both sitting at beforehand, sipping on an espresso martini. to his left, stood a blonde-headed boy who was smaller than him, sipping on a beer with his group of friends. The boy was thoroughly entertained by your performance, his laugh like silk as you made a fool out of yourself.
“she’s amazing” he said to his friend, but loud enough for hyunjin to hear, which made him shift his focus from you to the younger boy.
when hyunjin laid his eyes on felix for the first time, his first thought was how beautiful he was. He quickly took note of the freckles that dusted his cheeks, and his light brown eyes.
“after she comes down, you should totally ask her out” felix’s friend suggests with a smirk and a playful shove. felix couldn’t help but giggle and nod.
“she’s mine.” hyunjin spoke up, setting his cocktail down on the table. felix snapped his head in the direction of his voice, his face full of fear.
“oh, mate, i had no idea.. i wouldn’t have said anything if i had known.” he shook his head and pled his case.
“relax, there’s no way you could’ve known.” hyunjin broke his hard facade with a polite half smile. “come sit.” he gestured to the empty chair across from him.
felix visibly gulped and slid into the chair.
“what’s your name?” hyunjin asked, leaning forward to hear over the music.
“felix.. lee felix” the blonde replied quickly.
“hyunjin,” he said, holding his hand out for a truce.
felix met his hand and shook gently with an awkward nod.
“i like you.” hyunjin admitted
felix had a look of confusion painted across his face.
“i think you’re cute.”
“.. but didn’t you just say..”
“we’re open.”
felix still didn’t understand.
“we have an open relationship, and i think you’re cute” hyunjin clarified.
felix choked on his beer.
“oh, um..” he wasn’t sure how to respond.
before hyunjin could continue, you were stumbling back over to the table.
“hey baby!!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around hyunjin’s neck. “i missed you” you giggled drunkenly.
hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh as he placed an arm around your waist.
“this is felix, we just made friends.” hyunjin said, turning you slightly to face the timid boy.
“hi” felix almost whimpered, offering a small wave.
“y/n, nice to meet you phoenix” you replied with a toothy smile.
“oh, that’s not-“ felix started before hyunjin interrupted him
“i was just asking if felix wanted to come home with us tonight, what do you think angel?” he asked, tucking a small piece of hair behind your ear.
immediately, you knew where this was headed and the realization was mildly sobering.
you looked back over at felix, taking him in completely this time, before looking back at your boyfriend.
“that sounds lovely.” you answered sweetly. “what do you think, freckles?” you cocked your head at felix.
felix looked absolutely mortified, like a deer in headlights. Nevertheless, he slid out of his chair and looked between both of you
“let’s get out of here.”
That was over three years ago, and today you are all celebrating your third wedding anniversary.
The whole thing was hyunjin and felix’s idea, they were truly the most lovesick pair you had ever seen. they were almost frantic in your kitchen, shoving expensive wine into the picnic basket and perfecting the charcuterie board for your date.
you had just finished getting ready, a flowy, snug fit sundress and a head full of loose curls. little did you know you were walking into a disaster of a kitchen.
“guys what the fuck happened in here? it looks like a tornado flew around the kitchen.” you gasped, looking at the mess they had made in preparation for your celebration.
felix was boxing up the last few finger foods before waltzing over to you to place a kiss on your temple.
“don’t worry about any of this, me and hyune will clean it up whenever we get back, mkay?” he reassured you, filling his arms with food and drinks to bring to the car.
you grinned and shook your head before reaching out to grab some of the load, but hyunjin yanked it from your grasp.
“what do you think you’re doing? what kind of husband makes his wife carry her own anniversary gift?” he looked viscerally offended. “go wait in the car my love” he cracked, shooting you a dashing smile and a wink.
you playfully pinched his hip as he brushed past you before heading to the car like you were instructed.
felix was waiting outside of the car with the door ajar, waiting to help you inside with an out stretched hand.
“wow, so formal today.” you smirked, taking his hand and climbing into the car.
“always the best for our princess.” he smiled, waiting for you to get comfortable, before gently closing the door.
____
the ride was long, but only because your date was a picnic in a secluded field of flowers.
whenever you arrived, hyunjin and felix worked quickly to lay a large quilted blanket down and set up your lunch.
you thanked them for everything before sitting down between them.
you ate together and emptied wine glass after wine glass. you talked of the past and of the future, and of how much you adored one another.
“i bet if we had kids they’d look exactly like me and have y/nnie’s attitude.” hyunjin teased, propping himself up on his side while plucking grapes off their vine. He delicately placed one in each of your mouths.
“hey, what is that supposed to mean?” you gasped with your mouth full of grapes and slapped his arm playfully.
“it just means they’d be so kind and so sweet and so perfect and not sarcastic, short-tempered, or sassy at all!!” felix mocked as you landed another playful slap, now into his arm.
“you’re one to talk” you rolled your eyes as the laughter died down slowly
“in my defense, i only have an attitude around you guys if i’m trying to have it fucked out of me.” felix shrugged nonchalantly, causing both you and hyunjin to grow wide-eyed and cough at his suddenly bold statement.
“jesus, lix” hyunjin placed a hand over his mouth, trying his best to finish his last bite of food
“at least he’s honest” you added, resting back on your palms
felix blushed smugly at your reactions before picking the original conversation back up
“i would love to have children one day..” he added with shyness laced in his voice
you and hyunjin’s attention shifted to him at the sudden seriousness
“you would?” you asked sweetly
felix nodded, toying with a blade of grass near his hand
you looked over at your other husband, who then looked back at you. you weren’t sure why, but these kinds of conversations always made it difficult for you to navigate. Although you all loved one another equally, whenever it came to the discussion of starting a family, the reality of things had to be faced. Hyunjin, knowing how you are, spoke up first.
“let’s have a baby then,” he said before taking another sip of wine.
this made your heart race as you looked between both of them.
“but-“ you began and felix cut you off this time.
“i don’t care who the father is. The way i see it, we’re all three connected and we would all love the baby the same regardless.” felix offered, trying to soothe your anxious state.
you took a deep breath as the tension built upon itself.
“i’m sorry, i just wasn’t really expected to talk about this today. I apologize for my hesitation. Of course, I would love to have children with you, but only if we’re all sure.”
hyunjin and felix chuckled, sitting up.
“i don’t think we’re ever been more sure of anything in our lives, angel” hyunjin smiled before placing a tender kiss to your lips and running his hand up your thigh.
felix wasn’t far behind him, moving your hair to place an open-mouth kiss to the side of your neck as you sat in between the two men.
you closed your eyes in pleasure, melting into their touches. as hyunjin left your lips you spoke up
“what, are you guys going to knock me up in this field?” you laughed sarcastically, waiting for them to catch on. Instead, the two boys turned their attention to each other with twin calculating looks in their eyes and then back over to you.
“yes,” they said in unison, hyunjin returning to your lips and felix back to your neck.
you moaned into hyunjin’s mouth at the realization and instinctively parted your legs ever so slightly.
even though the movement was quaint, felix took note and moved his hand up your inner thigh gently as he kissed down your collarbone.
“may i?” felix broke the silence, fingers dancing dangerously close to your panties.
hyunjin broke the heated kiss at his question.
“what do you say, pretty girl?” he glanced at felix, and back into your pleading eyes.
“please,” you whined, opening your legs more for felix to fit in between and get to work.
felix hummed and tugged your lace panties down your legs, discarding them nearby. Bring his mouth to your heat, kissing your clit softly to let you know he was starting.
your breath hitched in your throat as hyunjin moved to support you from behind, your back resting against his chest as you got comfortable.
“that’s it, baby, relax” hyunjin cooed in your ear, running his hand up your side.
felix wasted no time licking away at your cunt. his arms were wrapped around your thighs, his thumb rubbing at your clit.
eating you out had to be felix’s favorite thing to do. he could spend all day pleasing you, hearing you cry out for him.
your wetness was dripping down his chin and he loved how filthy it made him feel.
“you taste so sweet” he groaned, entranced by you and the way you responded to him. he moved one hand from your thigh and brought two fingers up your heat, running them down to collect some lubrication.
“look at that, you’re in for a treat darling.” hyunjin half-whispered into your ear, brushing the straps of your dress off your shoulders to allow him access to your breasts.
felix blushed at his husband’s comment before dipping the first finger into your pussy.
felix slowly pumped his finger in and out of you while hyunjin pushed your dress down to reveal your chest. he hummed at his success and began toying with your nipple between his slender fingers.
your back arched at the new sensation and it caused you to clench around felix’s fingers.
“feel good?” hyunjin questioned, pinching your nipple gently.
“fuck, yes. you both feel so amazing.” you whimpered out, clinging to the picnic blanket that laid underneath all of you.
felix had resumed eating you out, adding another finger to fuck into you, growing more eager by the second.
hyunjin brought one of his hands up to his mouth to spit into his palm before bringing it back down over your nipple, swirling the saliva over the sensitive bud.
“hyunjin…” you sighed blissfully, arching your back into his touch.
felix had completely zeroed in on your cunt, fucking his fingers into you at a steady pace while lapping at your clit
“i need you to cum on my face” felix whined desperately, only detaching himself long enough to utter the one sentence.
you groaned at his words and hyunjin’s massage
“i’m close” you mewled, knuckles growing white from your tightening grip
“let go for us, be a good girl.” hyunjin cooed, never ceasing his movements.
that’s all it took for you to twitch and release all over felix’s fingers and his face. He wasted no time licking up anything that missed him and left a trail of kisses across your lower half.
“fuck, that was so hot” felix growled, sitting up between your legs.
“let me taste her.” hyunjin ordered, gripping the young boy by the back of his head and crashing their lips together.
You watched as your husbands made out just above your head, the remnants of your release dripping down from their lips and onto your bare chest.
you always had a lingering sense of guilt, for no reason that you could pinpoint. Both of them catered to you more than they catered to each other, and that always made you feel a little strange. you always hoped they weren’t sacrificing anything to be in this kind of relationship. But it was times like these, watching them melt into each other's touch, that you felt your heart swell, and you could relax, knowing they loved each other, too.
the kiss ended and hyunjin moved out from behind you to face you now.
“you ready for us, doll?” hyunjin asked softly, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.
you nodded as felix removed his shirt and began undoing his pants to slip them off.
“words, y/n” hyunjin reminded you, waiting patiently for your approval to remove his clothes
“always ready for you.” you smiled, tugging on the hem of hyunjin’s shirt and he wasted no time removing it over his head and then discarding his pants as well.
felix helped you lie down on your back while hyunjin positioned himself between your legs and felix positioned himself behind your head.
“you okay if i use your mouth while hyunjin fucks you?” felix asked softly, stroking his hard cock.
“of course, lixie wanna taste you.” you nod and lean your head back to make it easier on him.
he blushed at the nickname and looked at hyunjin.
“you can start, wanna make sure she’s okay before I stuff her mouth full.” felix chuckled and you rolled your eyes playfully.
hyunjin said nothing, too focused on the way you looked beneath him. he slid the head of his cock up and down your slit experimentally, gathering your wetness before pushing into you slowly.
you whined at the stretch and felix ran his fingers over your cheek, consoling you.
“you doing okay sweet girl?” hyunjin asked, halting his movements.
“yes, yes i’m perfect baby.” you nodded frantically “please give me more,” you begged
hyunjin moaned as he pushed deeper into you, moving your legs to wrap around his hips.
felix took that as his signal to push his cock into your mouth, his eyes rolling back at the warmth, slowly fucking his cock into you.
“fuck baby, how are you still so tight?” hyunjin mewled, throwing his head back, licking his lips
you moaned around felix’s cock as hyunjin’s hips sped up, your body felt like it was floating from the overstimulation.
hyunjin and felix both reached for your tits, hands brushing over each other before they both claimed one, teasing you once again.
“fuck, hyune, i don’t think i’m gonna last.” felix whimpered out to the other boy.
hyunjin was still trying to compose himself, biting his lip between moans
“you don’t have to hold on lixie, we have all day.” hyunjin squeezed the other boy’s pinkie, reassuring him.
felix whimpered, his hips speeding up, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.
“baby i’m gonna cum, can i come in your mouth? please please, can i?” he stuttered
you moaned out in approval, back arching off the ground.
felix’s hip shuddered, his warm milky release filling your mouth, you swallowing it up without hesitation.
hyunjin’s pace quickened, fucking into you deeper and harder.
your eyes were brewing tears, gasping for air.
“y/n, i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum inside of you, are you ready for me?” hyunjin growled, placing his hands on your hips to stabilize himself.
“please, need you to fill me up. please hyune.” you mewled, finding felix’s hand and holding onto it tightly.
“fuck- i’m cumming.” hyunjin confirmed, landing sharp thrusts into your cunt, filling you to the brim.
felix wiped the tears off your cheeks and caressed your cheeks as you came down.
“you’re such a good girl, y/n. our perfect girl.” felix praised sweetly.
hyunjin leaned down and kissed your lips sweetly, leaving a few stray kisses on your neck after.
“did so good. you’re so good for us.” hyunjin breathed out, slowly pulling out of you.
you smiled beneath them and leaned into felix’s hand.
“can i feel you too lixie?” you looked up innocently at the freckled boy.
he looked surprised, “are you sure baby? that was a lot just now.”
you nodded, sure of yourself. “want you too.”
hyunjin chuckled at your cute exchange.
“felix, switch places with y/n,” he instructed, moving back so you two had room to do so.
felix obeyed and laid down on his back, his cock soft due to his release.
you sat next to felix, waiting for hyunjin’s instruction.
hyunjin moved in between the younger boy's legs, leaning down to kiss him.
felix whimpered into hyunjin’s lips, both their cocks growing hard once again at the contact. felix’s hands found purchase in hyunjin’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
you watched in awe, running your soft hands up the side of felix’s leg.
hyunjin let him go, smirking.
“my turn.” you smiled, leaning down to capture felix’s lips this time.
felix smiled into your kiss, his lips tasted like hyunjin and wine.
hyunjin took advantage of the distraction and spit into his palm, rubbing the lubrication over his head and felix’s opening.
hyunjin lined his cock up with felix’s hole and slowly pushed forward.
felix squealed into your mouth at the unexpected intrusion. it startled you so you looked toward hyunjin and quickly picked up on what was happening.
“hyunjin! it was my turn!” you complained, looking at him in belief.
felix became a moaning mess as hyunjin began fucking into him.
“fuck, hyung, you’re so big.” he all but screamed out.
“baby, it’s still your turn.” hyunjin chuckled “come on, climb in front of me.” he pulled you onto felix.
“oh fuck-“ felix realized what was going to happen “i, oh-fuck, i can't handle-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence.
you followed hyunjin’s guidance and lowered yourself onto felix’s length, earning a loud cry from the pitiful boy below you.
hyunjin held onto you while he fucked deeper into felix, and set the pace for you to ride your shared partner.
you toyed with felix’s nipples as hyunjin held onto you as if he owned you, biting into your neck and shoulders and your hips moved up and down.
felix was seeing stars, his eyes were rolled back into his skull and his breathing was staggered, completely encapsulated by you and hyunjin’s movements.
“lix- you’re - fuck - you’re so perfect.” you praised him, resting your palms on his chest now
“feels perfect too” hyunjin chimed in.
all felix could do was groan out, still not being able to focus on anything.
“are you gonna cum for us baby boy?” you whined, staring at his fucked out expression
he nodded quickly
“gonna make our girl a mommy?” hyunjin added.
felix squealed out and thrusted his hips upwards as he came in you without warning.
you moaned out and hyunjin did the same, finishing inside the smaller boy.
everyone was catching their breath at the same time, you picked yourself off of felix and fell onto the blanket next to him, chests heaving.
hyunjin pulled out of felix slowly and gently, making sure not to hurt him.
after a minute or so of regaining composure, the silence was broken.
“happy anniversary, my pillow princesses.” hyunjin giggled with his bunny smile, leaning over the two of you to place playful kisses on both of your flushed faces.
you and felix both blushed and wiped your faces after his wet kisses.
“happy anniversary.” you smiled at them both, pulling hyunjin down so you could lay in between them.
“i’m so glad you were horrendous at karaoke.” felix challenged and quickly hid his face, awaiting your retaliation, which immediately came after.
“felix! that’s so mean! oh my gosh!” it was hyunjin’s turn to chime in, giggling sweetly.
you laughed as the boys began to playfully fight over you. you looked over at your left hand, where a small golden band hugged your finger.
18+ content. minors dni.
consensual somno. voyeurism.
It had been your idea. A shy request you'd mumbled with your eyes to the floor after one too many drinks. Minho had pulled you close and told you if it was something you were sure you wanted to try, to tell him in the morning—when you were sober. Why did he think you'd asked when you had liquid courage flowing through your system? You grumble a little at his request, prompting a small chuckle from him as he threads his fingers in your hair.
"I'll say yes," he reassures you. "Just ask me in the morning, I'll say yes."
It's the encouragement you need to roll over early the next morning and ask him if he will please try fucking you in your sleep.
He smirks at you, somehow managing to look cocky with his hair all messed from sleep. "Yes," he says. Simple as that.
You toss and turn that night, cursing your brain for always refusing to succumb to sleep when you wanted it most. He would play with you a little first, he'd said. He wanted to wake you gently, with slow strokes and gentle kisses. Your heart was racing with anticipation.
Still, finally, with his arms around you—you sleep.
You wake with him between your legs, his wet tongue flicking against your clit. Your small gasp pulls his attention to your face.
"Hello, baby," he says, one corner of his mouth pulled up a little.
"Hi."
"Sleep well?" he asks as his hand rubs soothing circles into your hip.
"How—" you cut yourself off as your eyes take in the state of your skin.
"I wanted you to see where I tasted you," he says in explanation. "I borrowed some vaseline."
He smiles as you press your finger to one of the faint red marks. It's a little sticky, the residue from your tinted lip moisturiser providing physical evidence that he'd littered your skin with kisses as you'd slept.
He crawls up your body, his cock heavy against your thigh as he slots himself between your legs. "I think it did something to me," he whispers. "Seeing you all vulnerable like that... knowing you trust me..." he pauses as he cups your breast with his hand. "Had so much fun playing with you... watching your pretty lips part as I touched you..." He reaches down to align himself properly. "Playing with your cute little pussy," he says just as he fucks himself inside you. "Is this what you wanted?" he groans after a moment, voice strained as he holds himself still above you—buried deep. "To wake up to my cock? hm?"
You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you," you whisper, desperately attempting to pull his lips to yours.
He lowers his mouth to yours until your breath mingles, hovering at the precipice. "Don't be scared to tell me what you want," he says as his lips ghost over yours. "Tell me all the ways you want me to fuck you, yeah?"
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