synopsis: while minho was gone for holiday promotions he entrusted you with both his cats and his apartments. when he comes back from his trip to find you snuggled up on his couch with both his cats and his hoodie? well, let’s just say he has a hard time pretending you’re just a friend.
pairing: friend!minho x f!reader
genre: smut
contains: reader and min bickering a lil bit, kissing, biting, unprotected sex (don’t.), pet names (jagi, kitten), fucking on a kitchen counter :D, possessive min, there’s probably more that i’m not remembering sooo read with caution :P
word count: 2.9k
now playing: meat - bibi
event taglist is open!!
[a/n]: let me be the very first to tell you that i am a whore for this man :D !!
the apartment is quiet when minho pushes open the door, the kind of quiet that settles into spaces when they've been empty for too long.
except his apartment hasn't been empty, not really.
he knows you've been here, taking care of his cats while he's been away for the holiday promotions. what he doesn't expect is to find you still here though, all curled up and cozy on his couch like you own the place.
and what’s the cherry on top of this whole little surprise? it’s not the fact that you were supposed to leave this morning, nor the way you’re laying sprawled on the couch asleep. no, it’s that way your doing it all in his hoodie.
minho pauses in the doorway, bag still slung over one shoulder. the sight alone is enough to stop him in his tracks—you, small and soft against his cushions, the oversized black fabric swallowing your frame. one of his cats, soonie, is curled up near your feet. the scene is domestic in a way that knocks the air out of his lungs.
he sets his bag down as carefully as possible, not wanting to disturb the perfect picture you make. even then, the soft thud of the bag against the floor is enough.
your eyes flutter open, unfocused at first before they find him standing there. "minho?" your voice is rough with sleep, confused.
that confusion is quick to shift to something not far off from panic as you realize that he’s not just showing up unannounced, but it’s you that shouldn’t be here. especially not asleep and wrapped in his clothes.
you bolt up so quickly that you’re hit with a pang of whiplash. with a groan you raise a hand to the back of your neck to ease out the tightness, blissfully unaware of how the hoodie—his hoodie—shifts and slides over your shoulder. "you're back early."
minho simply shrugs and says "wrapped up sooner than expected," before stepping further into the apartment. his eyes never leave you, tracking the way you're trying to smooth down your hair, the flush creeping into your cheeks. "didn't know you'd made yourself so comfortable." his hand lifts lazily to gesture at you in your entirety.
it’s then that you actually look down at yourself, and your blush deepens when the full gravity of what you’re wearing really hits you. "i—it was cold. and it was just... there."
"just there?" he repeats, and there's something in his voice, something dry and amused that makes you squirm.
minho offers you a raised brow before turning to move towards the kitchen, unhurried as he gets a glass from the cabinet and goes about filling it with water. "so you just help yourself to my closet when i'm gone?"
"i was house sitting," is the defense you feed him as you push yourself up from the safe warmth of the couch cushions. you pull the sleeves over your hands before crossing your arms. "and it's comfortable. sue me."
minho takes a sip of his water, watching you over the rim of the glass. his gaze is steady, knowing, the kind of look that makes you feel like he can see right through you.
you hate it when he does that.
"comfortable," he echos your words again. you have half the mind to call him a parrot before the sound of glass clicking against marble fills the air. "or does it smell like me?"
your mouth opens, then closes.
minho gives satisfactory little click of his tongue, knowing damn well he‘s got you trapped with that one. he can see it in the way your eyes widen slightly, the way you can't quite meet his gaze anymore. "that's- i didn't—"
"didn't what?" he's leaning against the counter now, arms crossed with the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "didn't think i'd come home and find you wrapped up in my clothes like you missed me?"
"you're reading too much into it," you grumble as you too make your way to the kitchen, fingers playing idly with the hem of the hoodie like you need something to do with your hands.
"mm. sure i am.”
you ignore his little remark as you brush past him to reach for a glass from the cabinet. minho stays quiet, far too concentrated with the way his the hoodie shifts on your body as you move, how the fabric falls to brush just above your thighs.
have you been walking around his apartment like this the whole time he's been gone? the thought does something cruel to him, something that makes his dick twitch and his head feel fuzzy.
"you know," minho drawls, voice coming just a tad bit lower than than his usual tone. "you look good in my clothes."
your hand freezes on the glass. slowly—so, so slowly—you glance over at him. "…what?"
"you heard me." is his response as he pushes off the counter. within seconds you feel him behind you. he’s warm, warm and so close that his presence feels nothing short of suffocating. "you look good wearing my things."
your heart pounds so hard you in your chest that you wouldn’t be surprised if the hammering broke a rib or two. "minho-"
"say it." he cuts you off, his hands come to rest on the counter on either side of you to effectively cage you in place. he doesn’t touch directly, but he doesn’t need to. he knows that. minho knows you well enough to know that the proximity alone is enough to leave you overheating. "say you wore it because you miss me."
you turn around slowly to face him, not realizing how much closer the shift would actually bring the two of you until it’s far too late.
it’s at that moment you accept your lose.
minho’s face is inches from yours now, so close that it’s easy to see how his pupils have blown just so. he looks down at you like he's been thinking about this—about you—for far longer than when he walked in the doorway.
"and what if i did?" your voice comes out breathier than you want it, but it isn’t really something you can help. not with him this close. not with the way he's looking at you.
"then i'd say you're not as subtle as you think you are." his gaze drops to your lips, then back up to your eyes. if you were a little quicker on your comebacks, you’d make some snide remark about how he isn’t as subtle as he thinks. "i'd say i've noticed the way you look at me when you think i'm not paying attention. the way you find excuses to be near me."
"you're one to talk," you do shoot back this time, finding your voice. "you think i haven't noticed you watching me? the way you always seem to be wherever i am?"
something flashes in his eyes—surprise, maybe. or satisfaction. "observant," he hum, and there's something like approval in his tone. "i like that."
"what are you doing, minho?" you whisper, but you're not pulling away. if anything, you're leaning in.
"what does it look like i'm doing?" his voice is barely above a murmur now, lips so close to yours that you can feel his breath with every exhale. "i'm done watching. i'm done pretending i don't want this."
"want what?"
"you." the word is simple, direct, so utterly minho that it makes your breath catch. "i want you. been wanting you. and seeing you in my apartment? in my clothes??” he scoffs, jaw tightening. "you're not making this easy."
"maybe i don't want to make it easy." your hands come up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "maybe i want you to work for it."
his laugh is low, dangerous. "is that right?" one of his hands leaves the counter to catch your wrist, his thumb digging into the skin right above your pulse point. "your heart's racing. you sure you wanna play games with me, kitten?"
"you know me, min. i love a good game…"
the kiss is everything you didn't know you needed—firm and demanding and achingly thorough.
minho kisses like he does everything else, with focus and intensity, like he's been thinking about this and now that he's finally getting it, his only thought is to do it right. his hand comes up to cup your face, angling you exactly where he wants you, and you melt into it, into him.
when he pulls back, you're both breathing hard. "still want to play?" he asks, voice is raw and strained.
"just shut up and kiss me again."
he does. and this time, there's no hesitation, no holding back. his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasp into his mouth at the contact. he takes advantage of it, sliding his tongue against yours until you’re left dizzy from the taste of him.
it doesn’t take long until the only thing grounding you is the solid warmth of his body against yours.
when your hands move to tear the hoodie from your body, minho slaps them away before they can even grab hold of the hem.
"keep it on," the order is mumbled against your lips as his hands slip beneath the heavy fabric to find bare skin. “need you to keep it on, yeah?"
"possessive," you manage, the laugh you pair it with coming out shaky.
"you have no idea." his lips trail down your jaw, your neck, finding that spot that makes you whimper. "seeing you in my clothes, in my space—do you know what that does to me?"
you can feel exactly what it does to him, pressed against you like this. "tell me," you breathe.
"makes me want to keep you here." his teeth graze your collarbone. "i’m gonna fucking eat you alive, jagi." he down hard where your neck and shoulder meet, smoothing over the patch with his tongue before promptly repeating the action again further up. “…gonna ruin you for anyone else."
"then do it, minho. follow through." the words are out before you can think better of them, but they’re not something you regret.
how could you regret something that leads minho to lifting you with maddening ease until you’re seated on the edge of the counter, the bulk of him moving to stand in between your thighs like he has every right to.
"you’re a brat." his hands are on your thighs now, thumbs dragging in circles that make it incredibly difficult to think straight.
"’m horny. there’s a difference" you breathe as you pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist.
what happens next is a blur of sensation—his mouth on yours, on your skin, his hands everywhere but never where you need them most.
the hoodie stays on, just like he wanted. he maps every inch of you with his fingers, his lips, learning what makes you gasp, what makes you moan his name in that falsetto that he loves so much.
"been thinking about this," he confesses against your skin, voice ragged. "been driving myself crazy thinking about you."
"could've said something sooner," you manage. minho response consists of doing something with his hips that makes your head fall back, all hopes of coherent thought quickly being rendered impossible.
the kitchen counter is cold against your thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat between you. minho is methodical even now, even like this, paying attention to every reaction, every sound you make, and using it against you to drive you higher.
it's overwhelming, the intensity of it, of him, and when you finally break, it's with his name on your lips and his hands holding you together.
minho’s hands slide up your thighs, pushing the hoodie higher, bunching the fabric at your waist. "keep it on," he says again to really drive it into your fuzzy little head. all you can do is nod. it isn’t really like you can form words right now, not with the way you can feel him everywhere.
his fingers hook into your shorts and underwear with ease, dragging them down and off in one smooth motion. the air is cool against your skin but it doesn't last because in the next moment he's there filling the space.
his body crowds against yours in the best way. one hand braces against the counter beside your hip while the other grips at your thigh, using the the placement there to drag you forward until your pussy is dragging over the bulge of his jeans.
"you have no idea," he breathes, his eyes dark and focused entirely on where your bodies touch. mesmerized. "how long i've been thinking about this. about you like this."
you can't help yourself—your hips roll against him, seeking friction, seeking more.
the movement is instinctive, desperate, and the groan it pulls from him is obscene. his grip on your thigh tightens, guiding you in encouragement you to do it again. so you do. you grind down harder this time, feeling the rigid length of him through the denim, and the cold metal of his zipper catches your clit it sends a sharp cry tumbling from your lips.
"fuck," he hisses, his head dropping to your shoulder. "you're gonna kill me, kitten." but he doesn't stop you. if anything, his hands urge you on, helping you find the rhythm that has you both panting, the friction building into something unbearable and necessary all at once.
when the grind starts leaving you more desperate than satisfied, you reach for him, fingers fumbling with his belt and zipper. minho lets you, watching you with that intense gaze that makes you feel like you're the only thing in the world that matters.
when you finally free him, he groans low in his throat, the sound sending heat pooling low in your belly.
"minho," you whisper, and it comes out needy, desperate.
"i know, jagi" he says, and then he's there, the blunt pressure of him against you making your breath catch. "i've got you."
the push in is slow, devastatingly so. he’s gracious enough to give you time to adjust to the stretch, time you absolutely need because fuck.
your head falls back as a gasp rips from your throat, the sound tapering off into a high whine. minho’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head in an attempt to keep you from hurting yourself on the cabinet.
when he finally starts the rock of his hips that you’ve craved for so long, it’s everything you ever imagined it to be and more. minho is all control, all purpose, each thrust calculated to hit exactly where you need him.
the counter digs into your thighs but you don't care, can't care, not when he's filling you so perfectly.
"so good…" he mutters, almost to himself. "so fucking good for me."
his hand slides under your hoodie again, this time to palm at your breast. his thumb brushes over your nipple once before he twists it between his thumb and forefinger. it sends you arching into the touch with a whimper.
the kitchen is filled with the sound of skin on skin, your gasps and his low groans. your hands scramble for purchase as he starts hitting harder, one gripping his shoulder, nails digging in, while the other braces against the counter behind you.
"need you to touch yourself, kitten" he purrs, deep and breathless. "need to feel you come around me."
you do as told, hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit, and the added stimulation makes you cry out. minho watches with blown pupils as you work yourself closer to the edge.
"that's it," he encourages, his movements becoming less controlled and far more desperate. "let go. come for me."
it builds fast, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps. you come with a broken sob of his name and he follows moments later with a guttural groan, hips stuttering as he buries himself deep.
for a moment, neither of you move. his forehead rests against yours, his hand still cradling your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough that you can already feel the bruises before they’re even visible.
minho is the first to break the silence with a breathy "fuck,", and you can't help but laugh, breathless and giddy.
"yeah," you agree, because what else is there to say?
a beat of silence, and then"i meant what i said. i want this. want you. not just tonight."
his words send what little sobriety you’d started to collect right back out the window. "you're sure? minho, this—"
"i'm sure." he cups your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "i don't do things in halves. you should know that by now."
"i do," you whisper, covering his hands with yours. "i want this too. want you."
the smile he gives you is small but genuine, reaching his eyes in a way that makes him look younger, softer. "good," he says simply, pulling you into his arms. you go easily, and it’s the easiest decision you’ve ever made in your life.
[a/n 2]: some of you may be asking yourselves ‘ghosty, why isn’t hyunjin on the poll anymore??’ and i have arrived to provide you that answer 🙂↕️ on the night of friday 19th your girl is working until ELEVEN PM, and i fear i simply do not want to stress myself out more than necessary. soooo on that night you guys will be gettin hyunjin’s story!! it’s already finished and queued and lovely, and i hope you all enjoy it!! now, with that psa outta the way, you may continue on to voting <3<3
SUMMARY: When an unknown number reaches out then blocks you you decide to use the space as a personal reminder. Until suddenly you get a reply.
Note: please ignore any mistakes or inaccuracies. If you saw them no you did not 🙂↔️ I am doing these for a silly goofy time and they are not meant to be taken seriously.
Bang Chan | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | I.N
