Synopsis: requested - Art major! Minghao needs a new muse for his portfolio for the upcoming finals. He puts up an ad for a "nude model" and never expected his long-time crush to answer the call.
Warnings: mdni, 18+, nerd! Minghao, loser! Minghao, art major! Minghao, simp! Minghao, smut, oral (f rec.), fingering, boba barista! reader, silly, theater major! dk, culinary arts major! Mingyu, 97 line friendship, Dk & Minghao are roommates, public smut? (squint), consent king! Minghao, these two dummies have crushes on each other and don't really tell each other, stranger danger!, Minghao is big and pretty, riding, loveseat, Minghao has a mid-life crisis, Minghao stopped meditating, cream pie, unprotected smut, overstim etc.
wc: 4.8k+ (guys, my longest fic yet)
Minghao is getting desperate.
Everybody thinks being an art major is easy until finals are near and only half of your portfolio is done.
Honestly, at this point, Minghao is contemplating calling one of his friends for a huge favor. He knows Kim Mingyu, a culinary arts major, would show up for him, or even Seokmin, a theater major, and his other friend would show up for him. But if Minghao was being honest, he’d rather die.
I know, dramatic, and maybe it’s cause he stopped meditating two weeks ago, but he’s also kind of serious. Half of his portfolio already consists of his two friends, and he shouldn’t have to rely on them to be his muse for the whole thing. Art is expression; it is stepping out of the box, reading in between the lines, or whatever they’re selling to kids these days.
So, instead of calling on his usual lifeline, Minghao puts a neon green flyer for a “nude model” on the bulletin board outside his campus’s library and rushes to his part-time job at an antique store when he’s used up the rest of his resources.
He doesn’t really think he’s going to get a response from the flyer; there are so many colorful papers already on the board as it is. And he only got the idea from Seokmin, who had put a plain white paper on the board when the theater major told him he was going to try to do some tutoring between classes. And let’s be honest, not many people would respond to being a nude model for his art class; it was a vulnerable thing to be naked in front of someone who would be attempting to make art out of life.
But then, after closing up the antique store alone one night, he gets a text from an unknown number. It’s a short text, saying they saw his flyer and were open to trying something new. It’s a miracle. And Minghao is thrilled that he might just make finals, so he forgets to ask who is texting him. He just gives a thumbs-up emoji and gives a date and location of the art studio to a stranger on his phone and rushes to the bus to make it back to his dorm for the night.
Seokmin is the one who reminds him of “stranger danger” when he sees his roommate back in the dorm. They’re both in the shared kitchen, with the National Geographic playing in the background of their living room. It’s then, when the narrator talks about the pod of whales swimming south for the winter, that Minghao realizes he never asked who texted him three hours ago. “Stranger danger is a real thing; it can happen to anyone,” Seokmin says, dead serious, and Minghao has to focus on pouring his tea so he doesn’t give his friend a deadpan look.
“What if it’s a girl?” Mingyu calls out; he’s on speakerphone on Dokyeom’s phone, and the room suddenly goes still. The three men didn’t have much interaction with women in college. Surprisingly, none of them had much experience with dating. Not that they planned this, it was just that, in society standards, they were at the bottom of the pyramid when it came to the cool guy persona.
Not many girls were interested in guys who had a Dungeons and Dragons game that had been ongoing since freshman year; they were juniors now.
“I’m not some creep,” Minghao scoffs, breaking the silence as they thought about the prospect. “I’m an art major, we need to see all types of people,” he continues and tries to mentally convince himself that his hot tea is what is making his hands clammy. “If the model is a girl, I’ll make sure she’s okay with doing the job still, and hopefully I’ll have my portfolio done just in time for finals.”
And that’s the end of that, because Mingyu, who literally handles knives every day for culinary class, trips, and the sound of a plate shattering resonates through the phone. You can hear Mingyu whine out a curse before both Seokmin and Minghao bully the clumsy one through the phone mercilessly.
-
“5 pm in room 2130.” Minghao reads the text once, twice, and then a third time when he steps out of the shower on Thursday afternoon. He’s finished all of his classes for the day and rented out the art studio for two hours, five to seven pm.
After that night when Seokmin lectured him about strangers being dangerous, he chickened out from texting the unknown person on his phone to ask who they were. It felt awkward to ask after he had already set up the time and place, so he just let it get buried in the back of his mind while he continued his classes for the week. And when Thursday came around, Minghao had decided to keep the positive attitude of “glass half full.”
He will not be the first to die in a horror movie; it’ll be Dokyeom.
“What if the model ends up being that one person you stare at when we get boba?” Mingyu suddenly says while Minghao is shrugging his jacket on. Seokmin and Mingyu were settling in on the couch, about to re-watch Star Wars in chronological order, and Minghao’s heart dropped to his stomach.
“Are we talking about the barista whom Minghao sketches in his notebook that he thinks we don’t know about?” DK quips, and Mingyu nods his head while pointing at DK in agreement.
“What? I don’t- wait, how did-“ Minghao feels heat crawl up his neck and face when he thinks about his crush, forgetting his words while his friends share knowing grins. “There is no notebook.” He finally huffs, and Mingyu snorts.
There definitely is a notebook.
“Yeah, and Seokmin doesn’t have a crush on the girl he’s tutoring.” Mingyu teases while Seokmin startles, caught red-handed. Minghao would have high-fived Mingyu for that, but he’s still reeling about the idea of his crush naked. So instead, he ends up ignoring both of the idiots he calls friends and leaves to head over to the studio.
He planned to arrive at the studio ten minutes early to set up. He wants to set up his area and pull up a chair for whenever his model gets here. He remembers to turn the temperature up in the room, knowing it’s always cold in the studio, and as he unzips his bag to pull out his favorite pencils, he hears the door open.
Mingyu literally prayed for Minghao’s downfall.
Minghao only turned a little before he froze in place, because only your head is poking through the open space in the doorway, but Minghao would have recognized you anywhere. In a crowded room, across the library, on Wednesday nights in the cafeteria for trivia night. I mean, he’s only had a crush on you since the end of freshman year.
“Hi,” your voice is soft, and your smile is dazzling as you take a quick sweep of the room and meet his eyes. And it’s just him, lips parted, eyes a little wide, staring back at you. “Is this for the nude modeling?” You ask, and Minghao might pass out.
Minghao flounders; the grip he suddenly has on his pencil almost might break it, but he luckily finds his words and says, “Yeah.”
Smooth.
You step fully into the room now, your smile brightening and blinding Minghao that he forgets, for a moment, how to think. You’re stunning, and not in your boba uniform, as you walk closer to him. Your lips move, most likely introducing yourself to him, and Minghao can’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart. He already knows your name; he had immediately needed to know it after one small interaction years ago, but you don’t know that yet.
And his hands immediately sweat as he realizes you’re blinking at him with a little grin after a few moments of silence pass between you two. Oh. Oh. It’s his turn to talk. “Minghao,” he chokes out, and your smile grows big again, a giggle slipping past as you nod your head at him.
“Minghao,” you echo, letting yourself hear it from your own mouth, and Minghao’s cheeks darken with a blush. “I like it,” you decide and send him a wink that you don’t know will be seared into his brain for years to come. “So, how do we do this? It’s my first time modeling,” you hum and clap your hands, already looking around for a stage or something to know what to do next. And Minghao’s heart stutters; the thing actually squeezes in his chest because it’s dawning on him, you’re about to strip for him, and he was going to sketch you. Fuck, he was going to see you naked!
Alarms ring in his head as he genuinely swears to any of the gods that might be listening to him right now that he’ll be extra nice to Mingyu the next time he sees him when this is all over. He straightens up after that thought and soldiers on bravely. “I have a chair,” Minghao dumbly points out, his long index finger pointing at the loveseat in the center of the room. Your eyes follow his finger to the chair. “I think it’d be more, uh, comfortable than standing.” He explains, and you nod cutely in agreement.
Minghao reminds himself to breathe, and his fingers run through his shaggy wolf cut hair as you slip your jacket off with ease. “Cool, you just tell me how you want me,” you say it so casually as you head over to the sofa, that while Minghao checks you out from behind, his cock can’t help but twitch at the hidden innuendo.
He’s so fucked.
And when you turn around, your eyes sparkle as you tilt your head at him. There is clear amusement written on your face, so you must have picked up on your own words, but then you double down, giving him a knowing smirk. “Tell me, do you want me to strip for you now?”
Minghao knows he won’t make it out alive, but he still nods his head weakly, his cheeks burning a darker red as he watches your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt. You’re wearing a simple t-shirt with a pair of jeans, but to Minghao, you look like you’ve been sent straight from heaven. His heart lurches, and before you can lift your shirt higher than your waist, he’s putting his hands out.
His palms face you as Minghao bows his head, clearly flustered, and it’s truly endearing to see him squeeze his eyes shut. “Wait! I, uh, are you okay?” Minghao stumbles out and opens his eyes to see you raise an eyebrow with a grin. “I just-“ Minghao wets his lips with his tongue, and his ears burn hot as he explains. “I know the flyer said nude modeling, but I need to make sure you’re still comfortable with it.”
You could coo the way he tries to reassure you. He doesn’t know how adorable he is, and you decide maybe just showing him would be better than saying it. You make sure he's watching and slip your shirt right off.
Minghao’s mouth salivates.
He’s no better than a pervert when he sees the pretty lace bra you wear. You’re gorgeous, and clearly comfortable in front of him as you unbutton your jeans. “You’re making art, right?” You say, and Minghao’s mind whirls as you smile at him and unzip your jeans nice and slow.
The room becomes warm, and Minghao has to sit down in his seat while you pull your jeans down. More skin is exposed, and he bites his lip to hold in a whimper when he realizes your pretty lace panties match your bra. He’s hoping he’s far enough away that you don’t see how his hands shake, his fingers curling to make a fist over his thighs.
And like you know what you do to him, you speak up again. “Paint me like one of your French girls, Hao.” You reference the movie Titanic with a giggle, and then you reach behind to unclasp your bra. The thin material falls, and Minghao’s eyes roll to the back of his head. If he died right now, he would be totally fine with that. But you’re not done, and when he blinks, dazed, he almost chokes from the view of you slipping your panties down your legs.
You’re everything.
Minghao’s head spins as all his blood rushes south, making his cock swell and jerk inside his pants. You only make it worse when you climb onto the loveseat, the soft cushions dipping under your weight as you lounge back. The smile you give is faux innocence; you can see his face growing redder by the second, and it amuses you to no end.
What Minghao doesn’t know is that you recognize him.
-
The moment you locked eyes with him in the studio, you realized he was one of your regulars at Honey Bee, the cafe you worked part-time at in between being a full-time student. It had seemed to be a habit of his for almost as long as you’ve been working at the boba cafe. Minghao would come in around six pm, head down, sometimes accompanied by two other guys, every Tuesday without fail. You’d usually be on as a cashier, the first person greeting anyone who made the bell above the front door ring.
And you’d see Minghao’s cheeks flush every time you gave him a warm smile. Almost instantly, the chunky headphones he wore would be wrapped around his neck, and his hands would be shoved into his jacket as he avoided eye contact to read the menu board above your head. You would lean against the counter separating you, staying quiet as you let him pretend to contemplate what he would order.
It was adorable that he did this; you knew he always got the same thing, a classic roasted oolong milk tea, only 50% sweet and light ice. And after week five of this, you had made your own habit. Your eyes would naturally find the clock hanging in the corner of the cafe, reading the time, and when it got close to six, you would already be making his drink. You blame it on excellent customer service, but you also never told him you did this. You also conveniently left out that on each clear plastic cup, hidden behind the cup sleeve, there was a sharpied heart or cute smiley face just for him.
You couldn’t blame that on customer service; you’re not really sure why you did it, but it was your little secret. And it always made you smile a little sweeter when he took the cup, his fingers brushing yours before you were back to greeting the next customer.
And you thought that was all it was. Small interactions with a stranger you saw weekly, you didn’t know that getting distracted by the colorful papers on the bulletin board outside your college’s library would lead you back to him.
It truly was on a whim, the wind fluttering all the papers pinned to the board; you were supposed to be walking to your next class when you stopped in front of all the flyers. Neon pink for an underground rock band, a blue piece of paper informing you of volunteer work at the local pound, a white piece of paper offering tutoring, and then a neon green flyer.
Your lips had curved up in amusement at the prospect of nude modeling, the risk to be on full display, sounded like a nightmare and a possible fun story to tell later, and that’s why you saved the phone number listed at the bottom. Call it impulsive, but you sent a text and didn’t think twice about it.
And maybe that’s why, a week later, opening the studio door and expecting a class of art students to be looking back at you, only to be greeted by your regular customer, shocked you. He seemed just as surprised as you, which comforted you, and you decided it had to be fate.
-
“Is there a certain position you want me?” You ask, resting your head in your hand. You can’t see Minghao’s face, but you can see the way his leg won’t stop shaking. You briefly think you should give the poor man a break from the teasing, but you can’t help but find his flustered state endearing.
His pencil snapping in two brings you from your silly little daydream, and you’re greeted with Minghao’s dark eyes peeking from above his sketchpad. “Position?” He croaks, and you hold in your laughter as you nod your head.
You round your eyes, blinking at him as you wave your hand down your body, feeling his eyes follow along down your side. “Yeah, you can tell me if you’d like me a certain way or if you want to just move me yourself, that’s fine too.”
You hear a choked breath muffled behind paper, and a warmth pools low in your stomach. Your thighs clench the moment your mind drafts a scenario of him, finally losing his last bit of willpower, and giving in. The thought alone has you squirming, a wave of slick seeping from your aching pussy. You weren’t blind. Minghao was handsome, and if his blushing was any indication, you were pretty sure the attraction was mutual.
But as time went on, the small studio was warming up, or maybe that was you, and the thoughts increased. Your eyes hooded, trailed up his body slowly, taking in his beat-up Converse to his baggy jeans, his knee bouncing up and down in such a fast rate you could practically see his whole body vibrating. How could he sketch like that?
And then it dawned on you.
-
“Minghao,” your voice dripped like honey, a sweet hum that made Minghao’s eyes leave the painfully blank sketchpad to look over at you. His mouth parts, his eyes widening as he took you in, and his sanity threatened to leave him.
You had moved, sitting up and leaning back against the sofa with your knees bent up. Your thighs parted naturally, showcasing your drooling cunt to Minghao, the glistening of your folds grabbing all his attention as you tilt your head at him. “Oh,” all the air leaves his lungs, his cock had been hard for a while now, his precum leaking from his mushroom tip and staining his boxers as he quietly had a mid-life crisis.
Turns out, when your crush was naked, barely ten feet away from you, it made it extremely hard to focus on anything. Minghao didn’t mean to waste an hour staring dumbfounded at his notebook, but he couldn’t openly stare at you either. You had come here for a reason, and he really tried, okay?
“Minghao,” you call his name, and his gaze flicks up to you. He can feel his face heat up, his heart hammering against his chest as you level your gaze with his. And then you say the one thing that breaks his resolve. “Come here.”
You’re probably taking pity on him or something, but at this point, Minghao doesn’t care; he sinks to his knees between your open thighs in less than five steps, his warm palms wrapping around your ankles as he looks up at you with glossy eyes. You can almost see the hearts in his dark brown eyes, his tongue wetting his lips as he hiccups. “Can I?” His gaze drops to your pretty pussy, and an anguished groan slips from his lips, “Can I?”
He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before your heart is skipping a beat, you're silent as you nod your head, and your eyes are captivated by the desperation he shows. Should it turn you on as much as it does to see how pathetically gone he already is? You don’t get to answer your own question before his head is dipping between your legs, shamelessly answering for you.
With his face buried between your sweet folds, his tongue messily laps up your drooling slit with a low groan. The syrupy slick of your arousal sizzles across his taste buds and makes his mouth salivate even more, his saliva adding to the wetness of your cunt with the awkwardness of someone who didn’t have much experience. His fingertips dig into your plush thighs, spreading you open, and allowing him to smush his face even closer. You’re not sure if he can breathe with the way he glues his lips to your pretty pussy, but you are positive that he doesn’t even care.
Minghao’s knees are seated firmly on the concrete floor, his body hunching over the loveseat to get your thighs over his slim shoulders, and his lips wrapped around your puffy clit. His tongue swirls around the sweet nub, licking the bundle of nerves into his mouth until your hips buck. Every little reaction he can pull from you has him learning what he should and shouldn’t do to get your moans growing and your thighs shaking around his head.
His tongue curls past your velvety walls, placing dirty French kisses into your pussy as he slowly becomes pussydrunk. You can only thread your fingers into his hair, holding on as he surges forward, dragging his nose along your clit as he slurps every drop of slick that seeps onto his greedy tongue.
He’s got your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the lewd smacks of his mouth on your pussy resonate in the empty art studio. It’s filthy, the way he groans lovesick into your wet heat, your gummy walls fluttering around his tongue while one of his hands slips from your thigh to get to your drooling cunt. His tongue is still probing deep into your soaked, twitching hole, but now his middle finger circles the entrance, making your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.
Minghao had seen this on his computer when he was alone in his dorm one night, and you don’t know how much he thought about getting to do it to you. And it’s better than he can ever imagine as your pussy welcomes the intrusion along with his tongue and he forces you to stretch not only around his wet muscle digging deep inside, but his finger too.
It’s maddening, feeling your gummy walls being stretched by his long finger and fat tongue, but then you’re crying out as he adds a second digit. His fingertips rub along your throbbing walls and light up every nerve ending with zaps of electricity that you feel all the way down to your toes, and you're crushing his face closer with a wrecked whimper.
Your stomach sucks in, the muscles in your thighs flexing as your orgasm races to the forefront. And you’re left convulsing as your mind reels, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth like glue as your orgasm crashes through you hot and fast. Wave after wave of your arousal gushes into Minghao’s open mouth, and your jaw drops in a lewd expression, your tongue lolling out from the intensity you didn’t expect from the orgasm Minghao pulls from you.
And throughout it all, his tongue works over your pulsing cunt, prolonging your high until tears spring up in your eyes and you’re tugging on his hair for mercy.
When he leans back on his knees, you're gifted with a fucked-out Minghao. His hair is disheveled from your tugging earlier, his lips swollen from making out with your pussy, and the lower half of his face shining with remnants of your sweet slick. The sight of him is too much to bear, and you're wasting no time in pulling him up to you.
Your lips crash into his, the taste of you still heavy on his tongue, only making you moan in his mouth as your hands reach in between the two of you to tug at his jeans. It only takes a split second to get you flipping your positions and having a pliant Minghao leaning back on the couch. You straddle his lap, tugging his jeans and boxers down low enough to free his aching cock.
And fuck, you didn’t know someone could have a pretty cock. Minghao’s big, long, and curving to the right, that your pussy throbs wantonly from the sight of him alone. You see that the tip of his cock is angry red and needy, coated with drips of precum, and silently asking to be buried down your throat or inside your tender cunt. The veins run down his length with pulsing throbs, and the sight of his hooded eyes looking up at you reverently doesn’t make you hesitate from taking his cock in your hand. “Tell me, do you want to stop?” You ask, guiding him between your thighs until the blunt head of his cock catches at your entrance. Your mind is muddled in lust, but you’re realizing your crush on Minghao is very real and has been for a while. You watch the way his cheeks are permanently flushed, while the sweat of his neck forces pieces of his hair to stick against his skin as you wait for his answer.
“No, please-” His dewy eyes meet yours, and it’s all you need to have your hips lower, the tip of his cock pushing past your velvety walls and having both of you moan from the feeling. “Use me. Whatever- whatever you want.” His quivering hips buck, spearing you all the way down his long length in one slide, and making your clit greet the small tufts of brown hair at his base deliciously.
He fills you so fully, he’s reaching in places you’ve never felt before. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, and your walls flutter in response. “Use you?” Your echo falls on deaf ears because one look at Minghao tells you he’s gone. His mind is too much of a gooey mess, but he must have an inkling because his head nods pathetically.
You’re so warm, wrapped snuggly around his shaft, and pulsing so sweetly that he is ruined for anyone else. If he had a crush before, he’s not surviving whatever he will be after this. “I-” you feel so good, he’s going to confess his feelings right here and right now, but his brain short-circuits when you move.
Oh fuck.
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, before you set a brutal pace, bouncing on his cock so deliciously that his lips stay parted in pleasure. Each slam of your ass meeting his thighs has tears welling up in his eyes, and your moans growing in volume. Minghao can only grab the sides of your thighs to ground him to reality, his head dropping back in ecstasy as wet squelches of your pussy resonate in the room. He’s not going to last. Already worked up by getting a taste of your pretty cunt had him almost cumming untouched, but now that you're gripping him tightly by your gummy walls, he’s crying out in warning. “M’so fucking close, ngh! I- oh fuck, you’re so warm and wet. Please, need you to cum-”
You’re no better than he is, the familiar warmth in your lower stomach spreading as you lean forward to run your fingers through his dark hair, damp with sweat. “Cum for me, want to feel you cum for me, Hao.” You coo, and he sees stars. Splurts of white seed were coming out in small wads every time you took him all the way to the hilt, and your confession only has his hips pathetically bucking upwards.
“Shouldn’t-” his tongue feels too heavy, you feel too good. “Wan’ you-” his words slur and his nails dig into your legs, leaving crescent-shaped marks that have your pussy clenching obscenely. “Need you to cum f’me, please.”
“Minghao,” you say his name, and his eyelashes flutter, trying to stay open, but you weren’t having any of it. All five fingers of your hand wrap around his milky colored throat, not putting pressure, but having enough weight to get his cock twitching deep inside. “Fill me up, cum f’me, Hao.”
Before you can move back up, Minghao’s clutching to you with unknown strength, his hips slamming up into you as his spills hot globs of syrupy seed inside your fluttering pussy. The feeling of his seed sloshing inside you only makes Minghao gasp for air, the white slop overfilling your pussy and forming a creamy ring around his base as you keep rocking back and forth in his lap.
You don’t show any signs of stopping, your velvety walls swallowing his cock to overstimulation that it brings tears to his eyes.
And Minghao is more than happy to use the other hour of the studio if it’s like this. He’ll fill the rest of his portfolio easily now, his eyes dazedly watching your tits bounce with every movement as his cum drips down his heavy balls and onto the loveseat underneath him.
A/N: Guys, this took me forever, but I also hope that shows. It was really fun world-building my nerdy!svt au and making Hao's lore.
Talk to me, tell me if you liked it or if you didn't. Comment, reblog, and tell me, or tell me in the tags! I see hearts as bookmarks, if the void echoes back, then let me say it first: this made me giggle sm and I'm happy I got a request for this!
thank you: @woncheolisms for reading this multiple times for me <3
oh PAUSE. 1. LOVE the dk fic. will never NOT love anything you put out.
2. did i read "ad for nude models" in that fic??? bc my brain shot STRAIGHT to loser!hao not being able to contain his hand on bc his crush is in front of him NUDE and hes drawing her for a project but how can the poor boy think?? all the blood has gone south!! and shes not a monster so she takes pity on him!! helps him out!!
anyways ive braindumped enough for tonight byeeee🩷🩷🩷
V!!! When I tell you I've missed you - omg look at this Minghao pic!
Anyway, we share the same brain cells, I swear! And I hope I did your idea justice! I also want to apologize for taking forever to reply :(
Muse [nerd!Minghao x reader]
It was sm fun writing this, I couldn't help but make him a simp <3 I hope the svt carats and Minghao carats enjoy!
