A fancy dinner turns into something much more when Minho stops hinting and finally decides he’s done being patient.
REQUEST from my 200 follower celebration
warning: vanilla smut
MDNI
REQUEST from my 200 follower celebration
The restaurant is dim in that intentional, expensive way. Gold light spilling across white tablecloths, crystal glasses catching every flicker. Minho booked this table weeks ago. He arrived in a black suit tailored so well it might as well have been painted onto his body: sharp shoulders, narrow waist, the fabric shifting like liquid shadow every time he moved.
You’ve been together long enough for most things to feel familiar. The automatic press of his palm at the small of your back as he guides you through the door. The quiet scrape of your chair as he pulls it out without flourish. The way he always remembers you like your wine slightly sweet.
But tonight the air feels heavier. He looks at you longer.
Not the quick, fond glances he gives when you’re mid-ramble about something unimportant. His gaze lingers. Drags. Slow and deliberate. Pupils dark enough that the dim light barely reaches them. He studies the way your dress clings to your waist, the dip of your neckline, the softness of your bare legs, which he got a look at when you sat down.
“You look…” He pauses, fingers tugging once at his cufflink as though grounding himself. His voice drops lower. “Dangerous.”
You let out a small laugh, pulse already kicking. “Dangerous?”
“For me, Jagi,” he says, simple and devastating.
Your stomach swoops hard.
Dinner unfolds like normal on the surface. Wine poured. Soft voices. His fingers brush yours when he passes the bread basket. But beneath the table, his knee slides between yours and stays firm and unapologetic. His thumb draws slow, absent circles over the delicate skin of your inner wrist while you speak, like he’s mapping your pulse.
Halfway through the main course, he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“You wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you?”
You tilt your head just enough that your cheek grazes his. “What if I did?”
His jaw flexes. A muscle ticks. “You’re fucking cruel.”
You both know exactly what this has been building toward.
Months of late-night makeouts that left you both wrecked—his hands clamped around your waist like he was physically restraining himself, the way his breath would stutter and catch when your lips found the spot beneath his ear, the low, broken sounds he tried to swallow when your nails dragged lightly down his back. You’d never crossed the final line. Not yet.
Tonight, he isn’t pretending to be subtle anymore.
When dessert arrives, he barely glances at the plate. His eyes stay locked on your mouth while you take slow spoonfuls of the rich lava cake, watching the way your lips close around the spoon like it personally offends him.
“You want to come over after this? Jisung is sleeping at Chans.” His voice is rougher now.
You swallow. “I thought that was the plan.”
A ghost of a smile. “Just making sure you’re still willing to ruin me.”
The car ride back is almost silent. Not tense. Electric. His hand wraps yours the entire way, thumb stroking over your knuckles in steady, rhythmic passes, like he’s reminding himself he’s allowed to touch you, like he’s afraid he’ll forget how fragile this permission still feels.
Inside the dorm, he doesn’t rush. Doesn’t shove you against the elevator wall. He’s terrifyingly composed.
But the second his unit door clicks shut, the mask cracks.
You barely set your bag on the island before he’s in front of you.
Both hands cradle your face, gentle at first, thumbs brushing your cheekbones like he’s asking without words. His forehead drops to yours. His breathing is ragged now, uneven in a way you’ve never heard.
“You’re sure?” he whispers.
You nod once.
That’s all it takes.
The first kiss is slow. Deep. Devastatingly tender. Like he’s trying to pour every restrained moment of the last few months into it.
His hands slide from your cheeks to your waist, pulling until every inch of you is sealed against him– chest, hips, thighs. The tension that’s been coiled tight for hours finally splinters.
The kiss turns hungry.
Fingers twist into your hair. Yours fist the front of his shirt, wrinkling thousand-dollar fabric without remorse. He walks you backward, careful steps, never breaking contact until your spine meets the hallway wall with a soft thud.
His mouth leaves yours only to map lower: jaw, pulse point, the sensitive skin beneath your ear. You feel the tremor in his exhale against your throat.
“I’ve been trying so fucking hard to be patient,” he murmurs, voice frayed, lips brushing your collarbone.
You smile, breathless. “You’ve been awful at hiding it.”
A quiet, broken laugh against your skin. Then he’s kissing you again–slower this time, deliberate. His palms slip beneath the hem of your dress, warm and sure against the bare skin of your waist. Not frantic. Just claiming. Exploring like he’s been starving for this exact texture.
When he finally pulls back far enough to look at you, the teasing is gone. What’s left is something raw, open, almost frightened.
“If you want to stop,” he says quietly, “at any point. Tell me.”
“I won’t,” you breathe.
He exhales shakily, kisses you softer, and guides you toward the bedroom.
The door closes with a soft finality.
-- Smut below--
Inside, he doesn’t turn on the overhead light. Only the low bedside lamp spills warm amber across the sheets.
He undresses you with aching patience, fingertips tracing the zipper of your dress like reverence, lips following the path of exposed skin as fabric pools at your feet. When you’re bare except for underwear, he steps back just to look. Chest rising and falling hard. Eyes glassy.
“God,” he whispers, almost to himself. “Look at you.”
You reach for his belt. He lets you undo it, lets you push shirt and jacket to the floor, but when your fingers brush the waistband of his pants, he catches your wrists—gentle, but firm.
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I want to feel you fall apart first.”
He eases you onto the bed. Kneels between your thighs. Kisses a slow, burning path down your sternum, ribs, and stomach every inch like worship. When he reaches the edge of your underwear, his eyes flick up to yours, asking again without words.
You nod. Lift your hips.
He peels the lace away like it’s something sacred.
Then his mouth is on you.
Slow at first, soft licks, exploratory, learning every hitch of your breath, every tremble. When your fingers twist in his hair, he groans against you, the vibration ripping a broken sound from your throat. He gets greedier after that. Tongue circling your clit, sucking gently, then harder when your hips start to rock helplessly against his face.
Two fingers slide inside you—long, curling perfectly—and he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, gasping his name like a prayer, thighs clamping around his head as you come undone in long, shuddering waves.
He doesn’t pull away until you’re whimpering from overstimulation.
Only then does he crawl back up, kissing you deep so you taste yourself on his tongue. His erection strains painfully against his briefs; you can feel how hard he is, how much he’s leaking.
Your hand slips down, palming him through the fabric. He hisses, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
“Fuck—wait—”
You don’t wait.
You push the last of his clothes away. Wrap your fingers around him—hot, thick, pulsing. He bucks into your grip once, twice, before catching your wrist again.
“Inside–Jagi,” he rasps. “Please. I need to be inside you.”
You guide him.
He sinks in slowly—agonizingly slow—eyes locked on yours the entire time. When he’s fully inside, he stills, breathing hard, letting you adjust. Forehead pressed to yours. A quiet, wrecked whimper escapes him.
“You feel…” He swallows. Tries again. “I'm not–I, you feel so good.” He's cut off with a loud moan when you clench around his cock.
Then he moves.
Deep, rolling thrusts at first—controlled, deliberate, hitting every sensitive place inside you. When your nails rake down his back, he loses the last thread of restraint. The pace quickens. Harder. The headboard taps the wall ina steady rhythm while his mouth finds yours again—messy, desperate kisses between gasps.
One hand slides between you, thumb circling your clit in tight, perfect strokes.
“Come with me,” he pleads against your lips. “Please—fuck, I’m so close—let me feel you—”
You do with a loud whine. “Minho, fuck–”
The second orgasm hits harder than the first—white-hot, blinding, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. He follows almost instantly—hips stuttering, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he spills inside you, pulse after hot pulse, until he’s trembling on top of you.
He doesn’t pull out right away.
Just stays buried deep, arms wrapped around you, face tucked against your neck. Breathing uneven. Pressing soft, shaky kisses wherever he can reach.
After a long minute he whispers, voice quiet and tender:
“I’m never going to be the same after this.”
You smile tiredly into his hair, fingers tracing lazy patterns down his spine.
Dom!Jealous!Minho is an absolute beast, and you can't tell me otherwise.
NSFW under the cut! <3
Dom!Jealous!Minho is something that you see just a little too often. He tries to come across as level-headed, as a good older (albeit a little strange) hyung to his dongsaengs, but the second someone breathes at you in a way he doesn't like? He's fuming, eyes sharp and mean, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side like he can't keep his energy contained. When he's like this, you can practically feel the anger and jealous rolling off of him in waves, and people around him subconsciously give him space. His general aura is so displeased that it makes anyone in his vicinity vaguely nervous.
The only person who should be nervous is the source of the jealousy. There's three scenarios where Minho would get particularly jealous, and he response would be different for each one.
Scenario one is when you're out in public and some random is being flirty with you. In all honesty, they don't even have to actually be flirting with you. Some people have a naturally flirty personality, and some people are just naturally touchy, and you've tried to tell him that, but he doesn't care. Because someone is too close to what's his, and he doesn't share.
And maybe you're too nice. You're at some club with him and some of the other boys, the ones who are down for a little bit of partying every once and a while, and he didn't want to be here in the first place. He's just here to babysit you and the rest of them, because you gave him a tiny little pout when he said he didn't want to go and he folded instantly. You didn't even have to say anything, because he's already huffing and picking out an outfit, asking you what color you're wearing and pretending to chose something that matches "by accident".
But now you're awkwardly laughing at some girl who slid up next to you at the bar. He can see from the booth where he's situated the way your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, and the way your finger is tracing the rim of your drink is your tell that you don't want to be in a conversation anymore. Minho knows this, knows you're not actually interested in the girl in front of you, but something mean still settles in his stomach when you let her rub her hand up and down your arm, let her buy you another drink when you haven't even finished your first. You're too nice, too kind to step out of the conversation and rejoin Jisung out on the dance floor, so you stand there and make polite conversation while someone just blatantly flirts with you.
He doesn't even realize Hyunjin had rejoined him at the booth until he coughs loudly, raising an extremely unamused eyebrow at Minho when his head snaps to look at him. Minho knows he's glaring, knows that he's practically got steam pouring out of his ears, knows his anger is being misdirected at Hyunjin, but when jealously strikes, he doesn't care. Everyone becomes the enemy when he's like this.
"What." He hisses out, voice flat and sharp.
"Jeez, chill, man," Hyunjin says, laughing when Minho's brows furrow further, "You gotta get that glare of yours under control. You're gonna burn a hole into the back of their head."
He just frowns back, fingers clenching around whatever shitty drink Han had convinced him he wanted earlier. Hyunjin winces when his nose wrinkles, and then sighs.
"Whatever, hyung, you just keep pouting over here. I'm going to go find Binnie-hyung."
He reaches across the table, pries Minho's drink from his fingers, and downs it in one fell swoop. Minho gawks at him, and he just winks and saunters off like he didn't just make Minho's night infinitely worse somehow.
With no more drink as an excuse to tie him to the booth and brood, Minho's up in an instant, unable to take anymore of this. It doesn't matter whether a boy, girl, whoever is flirting with you - Minho's going to get possessive and jealous over you, always. Dom!jealous!Minho doesn't play about his partner, and he doesn't like that he's somehow made someone doubt his claim over you. The two of you belong to each other, and he doesn't like that it's not obvious to every bozo in this room.
So he stomps over to where you're standing, people in front of him parting on instinct when they catch the look on his face. The girl in front of you has an easygoing smile on her face, fingers too close to yours on the bar counter, and Minho thinks he might just cause a scene.
"Hey jagi!" You say, relief clear in your voice as he approaches, though one look at his face makes you stiffen. "This is, uh..."
The girl gives her name, eyes a little more uneasy as she takes in Minho's features, and with a large swallow from her drink, she mutters some excuse about the bathroom before scurrying off. Her drink is left on the counter, forgotten, in her hurry to get away. She can read the room clearly, and you're glad, because you don't want to berate your boyfriend for his attitude in front of some stranger.
"Minho."
His arms circle around your waist and he leans down and sinks his teeth into your neck. No warning, no "hey jagi, I'm going to bite you in a very public space", just teeth in your neck and a blossoming pain as he suckles over the spot.
You don't even have to look to know that the spot is already reddening, the skin warm and pulsing as blood desperately flows back to it. You open your mouth to give him a piece of your mind but his hands slip to your hips and use their leverage to spin you around, and then he cages you against the bar, breathing heavy. You make eye contact with him for only a moment, long enough to catch the way something hardens in his eyes, before his mouth is on yours.
The kiss is rough and possessive, all teeth and tongue and spit. It's the kind of messy that's reserved for your bedroom, not a public space, and you push against him until he finally pulls away, lips swollen and red from kissing.
"Minho. What has gotten into you?" You ask, though you certainly already know by the way the person you were talking to ran off the second they really saw him.
"Nothing." He bites back, but it's full of venom, and his fingers leave the bar to dig into your hips again.
"Just needed to remind the people here who you belong to."
You're mad that he's hot like this. Eyes dark and swirling with jealousy, grip tight, breathing heavy almost as if he couldn't control himself. He doesn't like to share, and you don't like to be shared. You like the claim he lays over you, because you can lay the same claim over him.
If he could, he would take you right there over the bar counter, in front of everyone. He tells you as much and you laugh, but it's breathy, and he sees the way your thighs press together.
He takes you in the bathroom instead. He doesn't even drag you into the handicap stall, too impatient for that, plus he tells you that you don't deserve the bigger stall.
"If you're going to act like a slut and let that...thing touch you, then you should be treated like one." He says as he presses you to the back of the too-small stall, your cheek smushed against cold plastic.
He yanks you pants down just enough to expose your entrance, which clenches around nothing when it's exposed to open air. You whimper as he jabs his fingers at your mouth, and you open your mouth instinctively to suck on his fingers. He groans, clothed crotch rutting against your ass as he lets you lube up your fingers.
Once they're sufficiently coated in spit (or once he's too impatient to wait any longer) he spits on your hole, laughing when you it makes a shiver shoot up your spine.
"Whore." He says, but it's said endearingly, a fondness in his tone that you can't miss.
He's not nice when he opens you up, two fingers shoved in at once, and the edge of pain mixed with pleasure is enough to have you leaking more arousal. It drips down and coats your inner thighs, and Minho's fingers sneak out of you long enough to dip them down and scoop up some of your arousal to use as extra lube. It's gross, and it makes you leak even more.
He fingers you without the intention for you to get pleasure out of it. It's not careful, he's not aiming for your sweet spot. Instead, his fingers are only in you to stretch you. A third finger slips in just to stretch your entrance wider, just big enough to fit him but not so loose that it doesn't hurt. He wants you to feel this, wants you to remember the way that nothing can stretch you open like his cock can.
When he thinks you're stretched enough to fit him without too much pain, he pulls you back by the hair with his free hand and slips his fingers out of you, offering you his palm.
"Spit."
It's not a question or a statement, it's a command, and your foggy brain obeys it instantly, so pliant under his touch. He makes a content sound when your spit lands on his palm, and he lets your hair go to fumble with his belt. He zips his fly down and wrestles his cock out with one hand, pants just open enough to free his cock. He spits into the hand that has your spit, mixing them together around his cock as he jerks himself off with it. He grins when your hips press backwards, entrance clenching around nothing.
He presses the fat head of his dick to your entrance and rubs it there once, twice, before he shoves himself all the way into you, grinning as a loud moan tears out of your throat.
"Good job jagi, taking me so fucking well," he grits out as he sets a mean pace, "Bet that fucking girl at the bar couldn't make you feel this good, could she?"
You don't respond, because you can't, voice knocked out of your throat by how violently he's pounding into you. Unfortunately for you, that makes one of his hands find the back of your throat and squeeze, a warning, and he uses the leverage he has to pull you back against him. His hips slow down, thrusts now slow but still just as hard, and he leans in, breath hot against your ear.
"I asked you a fucking question." He says, and his hand squeezes a little harder when you just whimper in response.
Your head is foggy, the room is spinning and you're dizzy with pleasure. There's tears brimming your waterline, blurring your vision further as he asks you again.
"She couldn't, could she? Couldn't-fuck-couldn't fill you like this, make you leak l-like this," he pants out, thrusts getting faster like he can't help himself, "Only I can, right? Say it. Fucking say it."
"Only you!" you wail, sobbing as he lets you go and you catch yourself against the stall door, "Only you, Min, only-ahhn! Only you."
"That's fucking right, only me," he says, and you can tell he's close, because he's pulsing inside of you, "Scream my name as you come. Let everyone is this god damn club know who-hngh-who you belong to, jagi."
You come with a sob of his name, echoing off of the bathroom walls as your release pushes him over the edge, too, and he fills you with a grunt. He barely gives you a second to pause, hole still fluttering with aftershocks, as he pulls out and uses his fingers to pull your entrance. You whine, sensitive, but he doesn't care, fingers breaching your rim to shove his cum back inside of you as your hole tries to push it out.
"Keep it all in there," he says, voice gravelly and rough from exertion, "Want it dripping down you thighs as we leave this stall, want you to walk back out there and remember who fucked you this good."
"Pretty sure the whole club heard who fucked you," a voice pipes up as the bathroom door clicks closed (when did it open?), "Glad you got it out though, hyung. Would've been a miserable ride home if not."
"Shut up, Hyunjin," Minho responds, though it doesn't have much bite, "Leave us alone."
"Not my fault I have to pee!" He responds, and you have to hide your face in your hands in shame as Minho re-dresses you and drags you out of the stall.
Hyunjin whistles when he sees you, and you think you're going to have to kill everyone in the room and then yourself.
Scenario two is when you're with just him and the members, and you're just a liiiiittle too comfortable with one of the other members. Jisung is an exception to this scenario purely because Minho knows how absurdly close he is with him, so he can't get jealous when you're the same way. He really enjoys seeing the two of you get along particularly well, and while he does like seeing you get along with the other members as well, it's different with them, and something green curls in his chest when you sit pressed next to Hyunjin on the couch, or when Jeongin looks at you with those eyes.
Tonight it's when you choose to curl up on the couch next to Changbin during movie night. It's completely harmless - he knows neither of you think a thing of it - but Minho feels almost...hurt by your choice. Changbin's arm slings around you easily, letting you into his space, and the two of you chat idly, like nothing's wrong, as Chan clicks on some random movie that Minho can't remember the name of.
This is the kind of jealously that's crueler to Minho than it is to you. Because, unlike with the girl in the bar, this isn't amount reminding you that you belong to him (in a way that gets both of you off). This is more personal, because it makes Minho feel like he's not enough. He sees you next to Changbin, someone he knows very well, and a green little part of him feels like you look better there. That Changbin would be a better fit for someone like you, that someone who gets jealous over one of his closest friends doesn't deserve you as his partner.
This is the kind of jealously he doesn't act on right away. It sits and it simmers, collecting into something mean and darker inside of him until the weight of him leaves him quiet on the walk home, fingers drumming against his side. When you reach to hold his hand he flinches and you drop it, confusion written across your face.
This kind of jealously is the hardest to handle because he won't tell you that he was jealous. He embarrassed and ashamed to be thinking and acting the way he is, and he won't let you know what's going on.
His dorm room is quiet and it stays that way, even when you ask what's wrong. He'll give you some sort of non-committal answer and then pull you into bed, burying his face into your shoulder.
These kind of nights dom!jealous!Minho needs something more than a rough fuck. He takes it slow, loves on you. He needs you to remember that, despite how he may act sometimes, he loves you so much it hurts, so much that you're the only thing that keeps him going sometimes.
It's all sweet talk and slow thrusts. Dom!jealous!Minho puts you on your back, legs hiked up around his shoulders, and presses you into a mating press. His mouth never stops moving - whether it's pressing kisses to anywhere he can reach or whispering praises into your ear - and it's overwhelmingly good. He knows exactly how to fuck you and how to make you feel, and he uses it to his advantage.
You're smart, and if you're far enough into your relationship with Minho, you know exactly what's bothering him. You caught a hint of it in the clench of his jaw when you sat down next to Changbin and not him, and you knew it for certain when he couldn't say much more than a few words to you on your way back to his and Jisung's dorm. You knew it in the way that the two of you left before Jisung had time to catch up and walk with you, because you both knew that Jisung and his chattiness would've pulled it out of Minho before you had even made it to the dorm.
On these kinds of nights, the praise needs to go both ways. Your mouth starts to move too, little things at first, mostly just about how good he's making you feel now. You need to ease him into it, need him to start sinking into a warmer, happier headspace as he's fucking into you. He may be in charge of the pace, but this form of dom!jealous!Minho is softer, more willing to bend to your whims. He's in control, but only because someone needs to feel like he is or he'll fall apart.
You start small, little whispered praises of, "You feel so good, jagi, filling me up so well."
He just groans back in response, voice ragged as he pants into your ear. You reach up to tangle your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and use it to guide him down to you, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth - anywhere you can reach. His eyes flutter shut and his thrusts get impossibly deeper, slower as he focuses on the way your pleasure is mixing with his. Every kiss, every thrust, feels like love, like a confession all over again.
"Just like that, fill me up so perfect," you moan when his tip presses against that sweet spot again and again, "So perfect. Love you so much, Minnie, love you so much!"
"I love you, jagi, love you," he pants, and everything blends together from there.
Both of you are speaking but neither of you are really present, floating off as your orgasms grab you together. You tip over at the same time and it's an incredible feeling. You're pretty sure you tell him you love him again and again, and you think he's saying it back, but the room is so hazy, full of sex and sweat and love. This perhaps a rarer variant of dom!jealous!Minho, but it doesn't make it any less real.
Scenario three is when you're in either of the first two scenarios on purpose. If you're trying to rile him up and get him jealous, get him to react a certain way, Minho doesn't take kindly to that. There's no being sly either and playing it off like you didn't know. The second you play into the flirting, or you put yourself in a situation that could be innocent, Minho knows. He's got a sixth sense for you, and no amount of pretending it wasn't deliberate can get you out of punishment, because Minho is always on to you. If you're going to act like a brat and try and get him jealous, that's fine. Just be prepared for the consequences of your actions.
This is the meanest of the dom!jealous!Minho's. He's not kind at all, and there's a chance that he might not let you come for hours when he gets like this. You ask for this kind of treatment if you're acting out, because he will always react the exact same way.
You thought that dom!jealous!Minho was bad in scenario one? Take that and multiply it by ten. You lean into the guy who's making sleazy comments at you at the bar, laughing just a little too loud at his jokes? The second your hand brushes his bicep he drags you home and doesn't say a god damn word in the car, hands clenched in his lap as the driver nervously drives the two of you back to the dorm.
If you try and play innocent and pretend you had no idea what's going on, you're only going to make your punishment worse. Minho is not like Changbin - he doesn't want to tame a brat. But if he has to, Minho is an incredible brat tamer, because your inner brat will very, very rarely come out to play when you know what the punishment that waits you is.
If somehow you were in the mood to tease, something buzzing under your skin that makes it itch and makes you want to act out, you have to be prepared for the consequences. He doesn't speak to you until you're in his bedroom and the door is locked. The sound of the lock echoes through the silent room, and you swallow hard, the part of you that wanted to act out earlier feeling a little less confident now that you're alone with him here.
"Jagi."
You don't respond. You can't, voice caught in your throat as you try your best to blink up innocently at him.
"You're going to strip," he starts, unbuckling his belt and working on the buttons of his pants, "And you're going to sit on the bed, right at the headboard, for me."
"Says who?" You bite back, "Minho, I'm not in the mood."
That's a lie. He knows it is, you know it is, and yet you still say it. You watch his eye twitch, but he doesn't look over at you, continuing to work his own clothes off.
"If you want to lie to me tonight, you won't be coming for at least a week. Do you understand me?"
His voice dips into that controlling, commanding tone that makes arousal shoot down your spine, and your fingers are fumbling to tug off your clothes before you can help it.
"Fine, whatever." You huff out, feigning disinterest, but the wet patch on your underwear is very telling.
You wait patiently for him on the bed once you're nude, watching through lidded eyes as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. He knows it's driving you crazy, thighs clenching and unclenching as more of him is revealed, and when he frees his cock, the way it hits his stomach with a wet pap! makes your mouth fall open before you can stop it. He just grins, lazy hand reaching down to pump himself, watching your thighs squeeze together as he does.
"What happened to not being 'in the mood?'" he says, voice husky and low in a way that makes you want to beg for him.
"You're not playing fair," you retort, "How am I supposed to not get worked up when you look like that?"
"Hm, that's a shame, because I don't think you've earned me today," he responds, still jerking himself off in firm, slow strokes, "Do you know why, jagi?"
Part of you wants to retort. To pretend that you have no idea why Minho is acting like this. But the smarter part of you knows it's only going to hurt so much more if you lie. Dom!jealous!Minho is not kind, not when he's like this, and while you do enjoy the back and forth you have going, you do want to come tonight, and you both know that Minho isn't above making you wait until at least tomorrow morning if he's in the mood for it.
"I was acting out." you respond, though it's through gritted teeth.
"Oh, is that what we call it know?" he responds, finally stepping closer to the bed, "Because I think you were just acting like a slut."
The whimper you let out is involuntary, a broken little sound that his the corners of his mouth curling into a sharp little smirk.
"Oh? Stupid little thing likes being called a slut?" He laughs, mean, when you whimper again, "Glad a dumb little thing like you at least knows what you are. Only sluts whore themselves out to anything that breathes at them."
"I wasn't-"
He grabs your neck with the hand that isn't stroking his cock, so lightning fast that the words in your mouth die off before you can even think about saying them. Your mouth lolls open uselessly, and he leans down and spits into it, hard eyes watching as you swallow it without even having to be told.
"So dirty," he coos, but when he says it like that, it sounds almost endearing, "Do you act like this for all the other boys you sleep with?"
You try to respond, try to tell him that you would never sleep around, but as you try to, he increases the pressure on your neck, and the words get trapped in your throat. The only sound you can make is a choked thing in the back of your throat that fades away when he squeezes just a liiiiittle harder, making your eyes roll back and spots fill your vision.
"Should've known a little whore like you would be into this," he spits out, fingers working his cock a little faster, "Yeah? You like when I use my big hands and choke you 'til you're crying?"
You hadn't even realized the tears had started, and a hot flush rushes to your face in embarrassment, because he hadn't even done anything yet, not really. You were leaking on the bed, squirming under him, and all it had taken you to cry was his hand on your throat and a couple of mean words. It makes you feel small and pathetic, and it makes another gush of arousal leak onto the sheets.
"Fuck." He groans, cock twitching in his hands, fingers unclenching so he can watch the way you gasp for air.
He loves having this power over you - it's dizzying, how easily your bratty behavior folds under his fingers and his sharp words. He wants to tear you to shreds and get to be the one to put you back together again. He wants to sink his teeth in until you're screaming and crying and begging for more all at once. The way you pull him in is intoxicating, and he wants to consume you whole when you look up at him through teary lashes, pleading for something you can't even name.
He uses his loose grip on your neck to toss you into the sheets, grinning when he catches the way your arousal glints against your thighs in the low light.
"Stick your ass up for me."
It wasn't a question, he wasn't asking - it was a demand, one your body was scrambling to complete before you could even catch your breath from how he tossed you so recklessly into the sheets. You're shaking as you get yourself into position, presenting yourself to him easily.
He reaches out and gropes the fat of your ass, fingers kneading into the skin there as he hums. You arch into his touch, eager and needy for anything he'll give you, and he has to choke back a groan to hide how much it affects him.
"A slut like you needs to be reminded who you belong to," he says, voice flat, like it's just a fact of the world, "So you're going to count."
You have no time to ask what he means before the warmth of his hand leaves your skin and he lands a harsh slap on your ass, right where he was kneading it so softly before. The strength of it sends your upper body hurdling into the sheets, and your knees buckle as you struggle to keep yourself upright for him. You almost forgot his instructions, but when he makes a warning noise in the back of his throat, you scramble to form the words he was asking for.
"O-one, one, that was one." You stammer out, voice sounding so far away and he's only landed one hit.
"Good." Was all you got in response, before his hand was coming down on your other cheek, spreading the blossoming pain evenly across your ass.
You're drooling and sobbing by the time you choke out a "twenty!", and it's almost overwhelming how good you feel. It should hurt, but something about the way Minho hits just hard enough to feel, but not so hard that it genuinely hurts, had you leaking onto your thighs and the sheets below you. You're pretty sure if you looked down there would be a puddle of arousal there, but you don't have the time to, because Minho's fingers are teasing at your entrance, fingers pressing down against the sensitive skin at the rim.
You choke out something that sounds like his name, and he coos at you know, demeanor softer but mouth just as sharp.
"Aw, what happened to all that attitude?" He says, and you try to retort. Really, you do! But your words are so heavy on your tongue, and when Minho flips you onto your back, the sting of your ass pressing into the sheets makes all coherent thoughts fly out of your head for a second.
"Do you want it?" Minho says, fingers still circling your rim. He's collected some of the slick arousal that was coating your thighs, and he's using it now to wet your entrance, still not doing more than putting pressure as you clench around nothing.
"I'm soaked, Min, of course I fucking want it-ahn!"
You cut yourself off with a yelp as Minho lands a sharp smack! right against your entrance, wet fingers making the impact sound even more obscene.
"God, thought I smacked that attitude out of you already," he says, and he can hear the way he's rolling his eyes at your behavior, "Must you always be such a fucking pain?"
"Please, I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry," you respond, pressing your ass back towards him in the hopes that will make him touch you again, "So fucking sorry, just-hah-touch me? Please, jagi?"
Calling him jagi now, when you were spread open and waiting for him, was a cruel trick, one that worked more often than not. The name makes his fingers finally breach your entrance, two of them at once, coating in the sticky mess of your arousal. It punches a shattered noise out of your mouth, his fingers brushing just past where you need him to hit the most. Minho knows your body like the back of his hand (perhaps even better than that), which means he knows exactly how to angle his fingers to not hit your sweet spot. His fingers aren't in you for your pleasure, and he makes it known in the way he shoves another finger in before you're stretched enough for it.
You hiss, and he slows his fingers a bit, just thrusting them shallowly, because while he wants this to hurt, he's not actually cruel enough to hurt you that much. He wants the burn of pain to bleed directly into your pleasure, because breaking you down and making your bratty attitude melt is the best part of this, and you give him the best results when he mixes the pleasure and the pain just right.
"I think you're open enough," he says, even though you're certainly not, "I'm going to use you now, and you're not going to come until I've filled you up and marked that stupid hole of yours with my cum. Do you understand?"
You nod frantically, but that's not enough for him. His fingers slip out of you and find purchase against your hips as he bucks forward, dragging his cock right against where you want him the most.
"Use your words," he chastises, "Or did I already fuck you too dumb?"
"Fuck you," you grit, though the breathlessness of your voice gives you away, "Fuck me already, damn it!"
His fingers dig in harsher to your hips, and the rock of his cock against you stops.
"Speak to me like that again, I fucking dare you."
It feels like the room dips two degrees, the icy tone he's taken on nothing to mess with. You swallow, mouth suddenly dry, and shiver against his hold when repeats himself. Because you can't, not when his tone shifts like that.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says, and his hips cant forward shallowly again, "Now ask nicely, or I'm going to take care of myself and come all over your stupid slut face instead."
"Fuck me, please," you whine, leaking in rivulets now, body oversensitive and needy, "Please, Min? Need you, need you, please, it was never anyone else, I belong to you, please fuck me, please please please-"
You gasp as he slips into you in one clean thrust, so incredibly deep that it has stars forming behind your eyes. The stretch of him burns, but it's the kind of burn that sends heat through your veins and makes you try and buck back into his thrusts. He doesn't give you time to adjust, because you don't deserve it, and the pace he sets from the get go is hard and mean and angled just right to press the head of his cock directly into your sweet spot with every thrust.
You know you're not supposed to come before him, but how can you help yourself when he gets the angle so perfect? You're crying again, thick tears streaming down your face, and you try to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the sounds you're making, but he won't let you, fingers tangling into your hair. He doesn't pull, because he doesn't have to - you're so pliant like this that your neck automatically arches into his touch the second his fingers sink into your hair. It's pathetic, and it makes his head spin.
"Gonna come, Minho, I can't-fuck! C-can't hold it, I can't, 's comin', I'm coming, I'm gonna-"
He sighs as you explodes around him, hole fluttering around his cock as you shatter. He sounds so disappointed that you can hear it through the static in your brain and it makes you cry harder, hole still weakly pulsing around his length.
"So fucking useless," he sighs again, slipping his cock out of you, "Can't even do one thing right. Such a fucking slut for cock that you couldn't follow my one direction?"
You wail, trying to apologize through tears, but he just sighs again before manhandling you onto your back. From this angle, you can see his face, can see how flush he is, how his pupils practically swallow his eyes when he gets a glimpse of your face.
"That's fine. I'm just use you like a toy until I come. That's what a slut like you deserves, after all."
You don't get more of a warning than that before he's thrusting back into you, fingers now pressing into the fat of your thighs to force them back, pressing you into a mating press. The new angle makes him sink impossibly deeper into you, and you wail as he pushes you into overstimulation. The edges of your vision are blurry, and you feel so sensitive, but when Minho looks at you with those dark eyes and thrust into you like that, it's all worth it.
"Gonna fucking come," he pants out, voice hoarse from groaning, "Gonna, guh-gonna fill you s-so fucking full, 'til every fucking loser at the bar sees you round and swollen with my kids-"
It doesn't matter if you can get pregnant or not. Minho's too far gone to care, too obsessed with the way you fold under him, the way the image of you pregnant in his head is making his head swim. He wants that, wants to mark you in a way that feels permanent, wants to put a ring on your fingers that glints in the low light of those shitty bars so that everyone knows you're his.
"Want that," you sob, the edge of another orgasm building under your skin, "Want to be full of you, love you, I love you, please please please fill me up, please!"
"Who do you belong to?" he says as his thrusts start to get erratic, his body collapsing forward as his own orgasm nears, "Tell me. Tell me as I-fuck-fucking come and f-fill you up."
"You, I belong to you-"
Neither of you can form words anymore as you come around him, and the combination of your words and the tight clench of your hole around him sends him barreling over the edge with a call of your name on his lips. He pulses as he comes, coming so much that you can feel it pushing out of your hole and dripping down your skin onto the sheets. It's nasty, and you hiss as he pulls out of you, body feeling like jello from the way that Minho treated you.
He surges forward and kisses you, the first time he has since you've teased him like this, and it's everything he can't say right now without breaking the moment. It's so soft, sweet in a way that has you melting against him, and it's a steady reminder that he loves you. That any names he called you in the moment he didn't actually mean. That he does trust you, that he does love you more than he'll ever say. The aftercare on nights like these will be silent until you're both sinking back into the sheets, but it's perhaps still the sweetest aftercare you'll ever get, all soft touches and loving kisses and gentle coos as he cleans the two of you up.
Anyways. Dom!jealous!MInho is hot as fuck. Thank you for reminding us, anon!
Soooo I had written two versions of the Minho smut from Chapter 18. This is the original one I wrote but decided to redo it and went with the softer version for the chapter. 😌
I thought y'all should see what it could have been with mean Minho or as i call him Mean-ho. This was not proofread or edited, it was just a rough draft so it may seem lacking 🫣
chapter 18
Warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, sub!reader, Dom!Minho, crying (a TON), Dacryphilia, edging, choking (with hand and a belt), spanking, subspace, biting, blood in mouth, cursing, kissing, light masochism, asphyxiation, begging, mean Minho
WC: 3.5k
You rounded the corner to go to Chan's room to hide away, but before you could open the door a hand grabbed you and wrapped harshly around your neck, and a sturdy chest at your back. Your movements were halted completely as you screamed in fright, your hands coming up to grab the offending hand.
“So you can listen to me.”
It was Minho. You were so in your own head you didn’t even sense him nearby.
“Minho.. What are y-”
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear any of your fucking snark right now. You’re gonna shut your mouth for once and listen.” His aura was so.. Domineering. Authoritative. It made you instinctively want to obey him. Though you would never tell him that. “Be a good little omega and go to my room. Sit on the bed facing the wall, on your knees. Do you understand?”
You nodded, not speaking as ordered. His low voice in your ear was making you dizzy.
“Good. Now go.”
He dropped his hand from your neck and stepped back from you. He watched as you quickly scurried away and down the hall to his room. Minho dragged his hand down his face and sighed. This is not how he imagined today would go. But sometimes it can’t be helped, you need an attitude check. And he was going to give it to you.
You went into Minhos room, doing as he commanded and climbing onto his bed sitting on your knees and facing away from the door. Once again it was silent, you could hear nothing but your own breathing. Your nerves were shot. You didn’t know what was to come and it was making you incredibly anxious.
You knew you shouldn’t have been so rude to him, especially after he stood up for you and got you out of that frightening situation- but you couldn’t help it. Minho was the only person you were testy with, and clearly neither of you understood why.
Minho stood there at the threshold of his room, observing you as you sat upon his bed and tremored. He moved silently, borderline cat-like, as he crept into the room and stood behind you. You didn't know he had even entered the room yet if not for the sudden clinking of his belt as he slid it through his belt loops and off his pants. You spun your head around quickly, being alerted to his presence by the sound.
“I didn’t say you could look at me, omega. Turn back around.” He ordered, and you wanted to defy him; to tell him to fuck off but instead you settled for a weak glare then stiffly complied.
This time he let you hear his footsteps and movements as he crept closer to you and onto the bed. You felt him crawl up until he was directly behind you, his breath on your neck. You were shaking by the time you felt his lips on your shoulder.
“Mm, such a pretty sight- these marks on your body. The boys did a fine job covering you in their love.” His lips danced across your skin as you sat perfectly still, even going as far as to hold your breath so you wouldn’t move a muscle. “I have no idea why you’d wanna cover them up.” His tongue ran along the darkest hickey that was left on your neck- one from Jeongin the other day. You whimpered at the feeling, tilting your head back even further to grant him access. “Really hurt our feelings.” The last bit came out as a near growl and suddenly he had his belt wrapped around your neck.
You gasped and grabbed the offending belt, panic beginning to rise. “Minho!”
“Shut up!” He looped the belt so it turned into a makeshift leash, not enough to choke you just enough to hold you. His hand that wasn’t holding the belt went to the back of your head, shoving it down swiftly into his bed. “Don’t speak until I say you can speak! You’re not in charge right now, little girl. Learn. Your. Fucking. Place.”
Your hands balled up as you fisted the bedding with your face buried into his pillow and the pure scent of him filling your lungs; seeing as air certainly wasn’t. You were already crying, your tears wetting the pillows. There were so many different emotions running through you; fear, submission, anger.. But the main one was arousal. You could feel your panties dampening against your folds, and it made you embarrassed that Minho could probably smell it.
The man was still leaning over you, having released your head but still holding his leash. His free hand ran along the back of your thighs and up to your covered ass. His touches weren’t harsh but the smack he delivered was. You yelped but quickly bit your tongue to avoid any more sounds escaping. He took note of your obedience. Minho grabbed the top hem of your shorts and tugged hard , drawing them down your ass along with your panties and leaving your bottom half bare for him. He held back a moan when he saw the wet strings of your arousal clinging onto the gusset of your underwear.
Thankfully your face was buried still or he would have surely been able to see how ashamed you felt, knowing he was now able to see you in a way he never has before. You hadn’t felt nearly as emotional when the rest of the pack got to see you intimately though you hadn’t the relationship with them that you’ve had with him- the back and forth, the callus attitudes, the tension.
You just knew he was behind you sporting the smuggest grin (he was) and it made you furious. Furious at him for the power he held over you and furious at yourself for allowing it to happen. Not just allowing it, but enjoying it.
He yanked your shorts all the way off of you and threw them on the floor. The smell of your slick was quickly filling the room, seeping into Minho's lungs and making him feel borderline inebriated. He bit his lip as he palmed your ass, squeezing the thickness of your cheek and letting out an appreciative hum. He was an ass man, afterall. Your fists curled tighter when you heard his sound, almost letting out a whimper in return.
After another squeeze to your opposite cheek his lithe fingers ran up your spine to the laces of your top where he began to untie it. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the fabric untying- save for his small huff when the laces gave him some trouble. Eventually he was able to undo it completely. At this point you started to lose your patience, and you let out a huff of annoyance.
You jolted when he suddenly gave a sharp tug on the makeshift leash, making you choke and gasp. His fingers dug into the meat roughly and you could feel the indents of his nails and knew you would have bruises in the shape of his fingertips.
“Don’t you fucking huff at me. Sit up.” He smacked your ass making it sting and pulled on the belt again.
Apparently you didn’t move quick enough for the beta, as he gave a condescending scoff - choosing to give your ass another hard smack. Once again you remained silent. Your top fell off completely when you put yourself on your hands and knees.
“Mmm look at you, bare naked on my bed, held by my belt, waiting for my command. Finally you're listening to me.”
His hand cupped your pussy from behind then ran two digits through your slick. You shuddered when Minho gathered some of the wetness from your folds, then he pulled that hand up to the front of his face as he observed the way the arousal glistened. You couldn’t see it when he stuck those two fingers in his mouth and ran his tongue along them to clean them up, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head because of how fucking good you tasted.
“So fucking wet and I haven’t done anything to you yet. Seems to me you're enjoying yourself a little too much. Maybe you aren’t as innocent as everyone believes you to be, hmm?” Minho shuffled until he was on the right side of you, leaning down to see your heated face. “I know otherwise though. I could tell you’re not as sweet as you pretend to be, you’ve shown me how defiant you can be.” He tugged the belt, reminding you he held the reins. His tone was beyond condescending as he spoke. “I know what you want, but how about you tell me what you want? Go ahead. Tell me.”
“Minho..” Your voice was soft, beautifully submissive. “Want you..”
“You want me, huh? You sure about that, baby?” He was looking down at you with a borderline evil smirk. You didn’t pick up on the implied malicious compliance, too needy and quickly falling into subspace to even register it, so you nodded your head eagerly.”Say please.”
“Please Minho.” You wet your lips with your tongue, now your lips and eyes are shining.
He tossed his head back and forth as if contemplating your request. “Ok. Here I am.”
Minho yanked on the belt, pulling your face towards him and straight into his clothed crotch. You couldn’t suppress a surprised yelp when your face made contact, the fabric of his jeans feeling slightly scratchy on your skin. He held your lead close to him, not letting you gain any space away from him. Min hissed quietly at the stimulation, his hard cock begging for attention from within its confines. He rutted his hips a little, grinding against your face.
“Min!” Your plea came out muffled and one of your hands went to his thigh to brace yourself.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He ground against you harder, your mouth was still slightly open and your saliva was wetting the front of his pants. “I’m giving you what you wanted. My cock is right here, omega.”
The intention was not lost on either of you nor was the nuance of the situation. You were laid out doggy style and completely naked while he was kneeling over you completely clothed, making you rub and nuzzle against his covered crotch. It was a clear power play to embarrass you and make you submissive. And it was working.
Your lips nipped at the material, mouth watering at even being so close to him. But it wasn’t what you really wanted from him. So you gave him what you thought he wanted. “Minho, please. M’ sorry, I’ll listen to you. M’ sorry.”
He raised a brow at you, “ Oooo now you wanna be nice? Now you wanna be good f’ me? Hmm I think it’s too late for that Baby. But,” he began to pet the back of your head, giving you some comfort. “Maybe if you ask me again, make it real sweet and cute like I know you can be, maybe I’ll go easy on you. Maybe.”
Your lip jutted out and your eyes began to leak more crystalline tears, the big glassy orbs resembling an injured doe.
“Minho, please touch me. Please give me your cock. Wanna make you feel good- be good for you Minho. I need it. Need you.” You placed wet kisses to his length, nuzzling the offending fabric right after. “Will do whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want huh?” He gave some slack to the belt he held, petting your head tenderly then bringing his hand to your cheek, tilting your face up to look at him. His thumb wiped at the incoming tear, smearing the liquid into your skin. “ I wanna play with my pretty omega.”
Minho forced your face back into his crotch, this time even rougher than before. The friction was starting to rub your skin raw, making you wince with every grind. His hand left your cheek and went back to your head, this time he grasped your hair tightly in his fist. Over and over again he shoved you into him. He was clearly getting off on this power play; his throaty whines gave it away. You felt like you were suffocating and couldn't breath against the denim. Your hands on his thighs attempted to push him away even for a second but he didn’t allow you too. “Gonna make me cum you rub me so fucking good. Maybe I should just take my dick out and cum all over you. Or I have a better idea; how about I use that belt to tie you to my bed post, then hump your face until I cover you with my cum. But you’d probably like that huh? Dirty omega probably wants to lay here covered in me until it dries on you. Fuck that would be a perfect sight.”
Minho was rambling as if he was stuck in a fantasy and didn’t even register that you were struggling.
Panic began to set in when you couldn’t get away, and you started to squirm and cry. Pleas of his name were muffled along with your crying. Your small fists beat against him frantically and that seemed to pull the beta from his trance.
He grinded on your face once harshly then pulled you back. You sputtered as you gasped for air, drool and tears falling down your face and sticking to his pants.
“N-no.. no more..” You wailed, throat croaky from crying. Your body was quivering and you looked like a mess. “Ple-ase Min… No more, m’ sorry.”
“Aww omega,” Minho cooed and took the hand out of your hair and back down to your face. He was pleased with your submission, finding it easier to break you than he had anticipated. Your skin there was tender from his punishment and the heat of his hand did little to soothe it physically, but emotionally it was everything. You needed his care and mercy so much that even his patronizing tone flew right over your head. “Begged and pleaded for me and you can’t even take it huh? Just had to cry about it like the little baby you are. Do you know how pretty you look when you cry, hmm? Drives me so fucking crazy. Makes me wanna see how glassy those eyes can really get.”
You mewled when his thumb ran softly over your cheek, collecting the wetness. Then he moved it down to your lips. He groaned when you obediently opened your mouth and accepted the digit. Your tongue flicked over the tip and tasted the saltiness of your own tears.
“I think I wanna see what you look like when you cry on my cock now.” His thumb came out of your mouth and he wiped the spit on your lips. Then both hands traveled down to your neck and to the leather of the belt. “Would you like that, omega? You want me to fuck you?” He slowly undid the belt and slid it from your neck and threw it to the floor.
“Y-yes, Minho.” You were glad to have the leash off your neck, one of your hands went up to rub the skin but his own hand smacked it away then ran over your neck himself.
“You’ve been so good for me this far, omega. Are you gonna keep it up and listen like you're meant to?” There was a bite to his words but you were beyond needy for any of his kind attention that it didn’t matter.
You nodded quickly, starting to blubber again. “Mhm, I’ll be so good, wanna be good for you, promise Min, please please.”
“Shhh, baby it’s alright. Min will give you what you need now, ok?” He slowly pushed down his pants and underwear until they fell to the floor. His hard length sprung free and slapped against his covered stomach. He lowered you down onto your back and climbed on top of you. Minho's arms went to either side of your body and caged you against the bed.
You looked absolutely debauched. Your face was wet and your hair was a mess, and you were sniffling and whimpering under him just begging for attention. It became too much for the man to handle. With no more words spoken, he pressed a devastating kiss to your pouty lips. Your whole world shattered and all at once was rebuilt with that one kiss. It was a moment the two of you had been both dreaming about and dreading. And it was totally worth the wait.
Your hands were at your sides and they twitched with a need to touch him- to wrap your arms around him and hold him to you. But you knew better than to do so without being told. You would do anything to stay in his good graces right now.
Minho could feel you squirm and it made him smirk and hum. He knew he held the control and he was becoming drunk on it. Now he knew how Chan felt..
The beta used his tip to smack against your clit, giving a jolt of needed stimulation to the little bundle of nerves. Yet you didn’t move. “Good girl.” He praised and you let more tears fall. Minho went to line his member up with your center, but he paused before he pushed in. “You can touch me now, omega, go ahead and hold on to me. You'll need it.”
Immediately your arms shot up and around him, getting as close as you possibly could to him. You purred in satisfaction when you held him, nuzzling deeply into his neck and wetting his skin with your tears.
He chuckled in your ear, then shoved his length into you with one hard thrust. Your eyes slammed shut and your back arched at the intrusion, making your bare nipples rub against the fabric of his shirt. Your mouth fell open and a throaty whine left you involuntarily. Minho may not have been an alpha but he sure was hung like one.
“Jesus fucking christ, you are so fucking tight omega. Your sweet omega pussy is squeezing the life outta me, clenching me so good.” He didn’t give you time to adjust and began to thrust into you, his hips making a smacking sound.
Minho leaned more of his weight onto you as he used one arm to support his body. The other hand went to your neck and found a place there. He would squeeze your windpipe when he gave you particularly hard thrusts. You thought it would scare you but in reality it felt divine. The dark hair that resided at the base of his cock was stimulating your clit with every single one of his grinds.
You were quickly becoming worked up, your orgasm just on the cusp. Your nails were embedding themselves into his shoulders, drawing blood but you thought he didn’t seem to notice or if he did then he didn’t give a shit. In truth; he loved the pain you were giving him. The masochist in him was reeling.
He moaned and cursed when you clenched around him, “Fuck baby, you’re about to cum aren’t you?”
“Uh huh” you nodded into him. He slowed his movements- his pounding turning into a rolling as he withdrew his chest from yours. “No no no no please don’t go please.” You begged and attempted to pull him back to you, now full on sobbing. “Please Minho please.”
He tsked down at you with a shake of his head. “Pathetic little baby wants to cum? You think you deserve it?”
“Please! Been good!” He was steady despite your tugging on his shoulders, so you resorted to trying to thrust yourself up onto him. “Need t’ cum. Wan’ it Min. Won’t ever be mean to you again I promise!”
The beta smirked, feeling the satisfaction of victory. “I’m gonna hold you to that, omega.” Then he restarted his deep pounding.
You threw your head back as you moaned, giving him a chance to increase the pressure on your neck. The slick was pouring out of you and covering both of your thighs and his bed. The wet squelches were a filthy addition to the already overwhelming scene and it was making you both extra fuzzy.
All too soon you felt the build up within you once more, and this time he didn’t let up when you begged to cum. “Gonna cum! Please can I? Please!”
“Yes omega, you can cum. You’ve earned it.” He said it then without a moment's hesitation he clamped his teeth into your neck, giving you a deep claiming bite.
You felt like you exploded into a thousand tiny stars. Your body convulsed as you came, your moans turning to screams from all of the sensations. Minho was growling as he sucked and dug his teeth in further and further, he seemed like a man possessed.
His own orgasm came crashing down on him and you felt the fierce heat of his cum shoot inside of you. His eyes rolled back into his head and his rutting turned almost violent. He wanted his cum as deep into you as possible- wanted so deep it would stay there forever.
Warnings: he calls you little bunny, he also calls you stupid once… overstimulation (is that the name?), slight dacryphilia I think, dirty words, maybe it's not so "hard dom" but I tried, afab reader but without using pronouns directed at reader (if there is, I apologize, I wrote this while sleepy and didn't review it…)
let me know if there are any errors!
Making it clear that this is fiction and does not apply to the real Minho!
I really need to sleep, but I wouldn't be able to if I didn't write something about Minho
He seems so good at being a hard and soft guy, I can't explain it very well, maybe I'm even crazier but god… I need to know if I'm the only crazy one
For me, Minho is tough but when he's really in need he changes.
He loves the way you look at him as he holds your face, squeezing it as you gaze at him with an admiring gaze, your eyes completely submissive, begging for him without saying a single word.
"You're so dirty."
"Come on, what's going through your naughty little head?"
Minho would squeeze your neck, kissing you while his hands roamed all over your sensitive spots, he knows you, he knows how to break you in no time.
"So sensitive, you're so easy."
"You're so silly, trembling with just one touch."
Minho would eat your pussy like a starving man would, not just with his tongue but with his fingers, all for you.
"Stop closing your damn legs."
"That's an order, don't you get that?"
Minho would make you cum over and over again with just his fingers and tongue, he likes to see you broken, destroyed, ruined, that's the vision he needs before he fucks you.
"So fucking good, just for me…"
"You're perfect like this."
Minho would seem to be floating when he finally filled you with his cock, thrusting deep inside you, his eyes filled with tears and all he could think about was how beautiful you looked crying beneath him.
"My little bunny…"
"You're so beautiful crying, keep crying for me."
He loves to see the way you look like a complete idiot, like your brain has left your body and all you can do is moan and beg him to keep going in a broken voice.
"K-keep… keep what?"
He would stop, just to watch you gasp for air as you begged him
"Can't you even form a sentence? Stupid" he would go back to the rhythm of unforgivable thrusts.
But definitely what he likes the most is hearing your noises, your moans so good that they drive him crazy and only encourage him even more to continue fucking you with everything he has.
"That's it, keep going, let everyone know how good I can make you feel"
"That only I can do this to you"
Minho can be tough, but he would take care of you, totally. He cares about aftercare more than anything and always knows when to stop when you are really at your limit, he would never do anything you didn't want and couldn't handle, he knows you can handle him. He would give you several kisses, a bath with scented candles, he would apply ointment to your marks and give you a massage, in addition to giving you your favorite food, what can you say about him? He just loves to spoil you and see your smile, don't blame a man for loving you too much.
"I love you, you were amazing, you know that right? You're always amazing, in everything." he would say kissing your fingers.
But now imagine…
Minho in need, he needs you, like, he really needs you.
"I need… please…"
"You, only you"
He would kiss you, hold you and smell your neck, leaving kisses on the spot while making sure to lay you down on the bed carefully.
"I love your smell, I love your taste"
Minho loves to see you have pleasure, no matter the moment, he just loves and would eat you without hesitation, savoring every moment while feeling your hands in his hair.
"Legs open, you can do this"
"I know you can"
"You're a good little bunny so obey me, okay?"
He would thrust into you, caressing you as he kissed your cheek and lips, holding you as he fucked you, he was just enjoying the way your insides twitched with him.
"S-shit… you feel so good."
"So good… the best."
Minho would shower you with compliments as his thrusts got faster, making sure to kiss away your tears when they started to fall, stroking your back, never stopping his movement.
"My baby crying? Does it feel good?"
"You're gorgeous… I love you."
He would never want it to end, being so connected to you was a gift from the gods to him, Minho would be grateful every day.
"Oh my, you're everything"
"My little bunny, you're my most special gift"
Minho would kiss you, cumming a little while after you did, he would take a few seconds to watch you, breathing heavily, body shaking, eyes still rolled back, oh my, you're perfect. He would touch your face so gently, pulling you in for a kiss, just to feel you again.
"I love you. I love you so much"
Once again, he would bathe you, wash your hair if you needed it, and have a massage available whenever you wanted! He would give you affection and would want to cuddle with you all the time, whether you're watching something or not, he doesn't care, you can even tell him how your week is going, down to the smallest details, he's needy and misses you.
"Tell me, how was your day?"
"Boring? I don't care, just tell me everything, even if you saw an ant on the street… I just want to hear you."
That's it… I'm crazy? Maybe. Probably.
You can ask for suggestions if you want, I may not be the greatest writer but I will do my best.
Sorry for the English mistakes, I'm really not that good at English
Especially writing obscenities… thanks for reading :)
pairing: minho x jisung x reader (afab)
genre: smut, NSFW
warnings: dom!reader, switch!minho, switch!jisung, established relationship (minho x jisung), use of "y/n" once, collar, choking, breath play, spit, thigh slapping, noona kink, dick slapping, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cum eating, rough sex, masturbation, praising, degrading, dirty talk
word count: 10.6k
***
he was lying under you, eating your pussy so well, just like he promised. but instead of praising, you grabbed onto the collar ring and pulled.
“n-noona! f-fUCk!” jisung choked as his cock moved on his stomach. he was about to cum without touching again.
“too much?” you got worried for a second.
“n-no! m-more-”
you exhaled loudly, astonished, pussy clenching on jisung’s face. his responses were hard to hear, because you were still sitting on his face, but the enthusiasm was obvious – he didn't stop pulling your hips down.
“you're such a slut, jagi. you know that?” minho whistled from the side.
jisung let out something between a moan and a whimper. hearing minho's degrading was only encouraging him to please you harder.
he could feel the slick running down his chin, a mix of his saliva and your juices. the inspecting eyes of his boyfriend weren’t making this any easier. he didn’t feel embarrassed, not now. just drunk of feelings and aching for release, for more dirty talk, for one of you to say something that’s… that’s.
“don’t you dare slow down!”
the slap on his dick was so unexpected, jisung opened his eyes wide while minho choked in surprise. they have never tried something like this before, but judging by jisung’s current expression, they definitely will.
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Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N is a student, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess); TW! mention of murder and rape; fighting; Stockholm syndrome; Y/N getting drunk.; mention of sexual punishments and more...
!This is adult content, If you don't like it or feel uneasy about the stuff I mentioned above, please do not read!
Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.
Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it. If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know :)
Chapters will be released on Tuesdays and Thursdays!
