The night air was thick, wrapping around you like a suffocating veil as you stormed down the dimly lit streets. Your heart pounded heavily —not from exertion, but from the frustration clawing at your ribs, desperate to be let out.
"I won’t kill you."
Taemin’s words wouldn’t leave your head.
"Forget it. I’m not turning you."
You wiped at your eyes furiously, barely registering the cold against your skin. The night stretched endlessly before you, the streets deserted except for the occasional flicker of a neon sign.
It wasn’t fair.
Why did Taemin get to decide how this ended? Why did he get to live forever while you counted down the years, waiting for the moment you’d be too old, too broken, too human for him?
Your chest ached, a deep, unbearable pressure that no amount of pacing could fix. You wanted to scream. To tear at your own skin. To be someone else—someone who didn’t have an expiration date.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see him at first. Didn’t notice the way he leaned against the flickering streetlamp, arms crossed, smirk perfectly in place. Didn’t realize you were being watched.
“You look lost, princess.”
The voice was smooth—like a whispered secret, a blade dipped in honey.
You froze. Something in your body responded before your brain could catch up, your breath hitching, skin prickling with unease. Your gaze snapped to the figure by the lamp.
He was tall—his lean frame draped in something dark and unapologetically expensive. Midnight hair fell carelessly over piercing eyes, his entire presence humming with a slow, lethal confidence.
His smirk widened when he saw you staring. Like he knew something you didn’t. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You weren’t stupid. This wasn’t just some random guy. There was something dangerous about him. Something that set off alarms in the back of your mind, telling you to run.
But you didn’t. You squared your tense shoulders, forcing your voice to stay steady. “I’m not lost.”
A chuckle. Low. Amused. Like he didn’t believe you. “I suppose not.” He tilted his head, eyes raking over you like he was reading every thought you’d ever had. A beat of silence passed between you, thick with something unspoken.
Then—
“You know exactly where you’re going, don’t you?”
Your stomach twisted. There was something about his voice—something unsettlingly familiar. Then it hit you. Your heart halted. “You’re… like him.”
The moment the words left your lips, his smirk deepened. “Like Taemin?” His voice was silk and shadow. “Yes. But no.”
He pushed off the lamp post, his movements too smooth, too controlled. “Taemin fears what he is.” He took a slow step forward. “I don’t.”
Something inside you shifted. There it was again—that coil of unease tightening in your chest. You took a step back, your voice barely above a whisper. “Who are you?”
A slow smile. A quick step forward. He took your fragile hand into his, not forceful, yet determined, placing an ice-cold kiss on top of your hand.
“Kai.”
The name slithered down your spine, wrapping around your ribs like a vice.
Kai.
Even the name felt sharp. He studied your reaction, the amusement in his gaze shifting into something sharper, more calculated. “You’re hurting.” His voice softened, the smugness melting into something dangerously close to understanding. “Taemin won’t turn you, is that it?”
You flinched, revoking your hand, your fingers clenching into fists. He let out a soft hum, tilting his head. “It’s exhausting, isn’t it? The waiting. The hoping. The endless feeling of being—” He paused, watching you carefully. “Disposable.”
Your breath caught. “I’m not—”
Kai tsked, stepping closer. You should have stepped back. You should have left. But his presence held you there, locked in place. “You think he’s protecting you, don’t you?” His voice was softer now, coaxing. Like he was offering something. Your throat tightened.
“He is.” But your voice wasn’t as steady as you wanted it to be. Kai smiled. Like he’d been expecting that answer. “Or maybe…” He leaned in, his breath cool against your skin. “He’s controlling you.”
Your stomach dropped. “No—”
“Oh, come on.” His chuckle was like smoke curling around your ribs, thick and suffocating. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought it.” Your pulse pounded. Kai circled you slowly, like a predator playing with its food.
“He loves you, doesn’t he?” He arched a brow. “So why won’t he give you what you want?” Your mouth opened. Then closed. Kai’s smirk widened. “Because it’s not about you. It’s about him.”
He stepped closer.
“He’s been alive for how long now? A hundred years? Two? You think you’re the first person he’s ever loved?”
Your chest tightened. You hated how his words dug into your insecurities, the ones you tried so hard to bury. Kai sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “If he truly wanted you, he wouldn’t hesitate.” His gaze darkened, voice dipping lower. “I wouldn’t hesitate, princess.”
The air crackled, electric and dangerous. Your fingers curled into fists. “Why are you telling me this?” Kai smirked. Like he’d been waiting for this question. “Because,” he murmured, eyes gleaming, “if he won’t turn you… I will.”
Your heart stopped. The world tilted. The weight of his offer slammed into your chest. You swallowed, hard. Your mind screamed no, but your body… your heart… hesitated. Kai saw it. He could smell it in the air—your doubt, your longing, your desperation.
And he thrived on it. He extended a hand, his voice smooth and inviting. “Let me give you what he won’t.”
Your breath came out shaky. You knew this was wrong. You knew you shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. But as you stared at Kai’s outstretched hand, you couldn’t ignore the hunger in your chest—the need to finally have a choice.
You reached out. But just before your fingers brushed his—
A voice sliced through the night like a blade. “Get away from her.” Your heart leapt. You spun around—
Summary: When you recieve a series of messages from your boyfriend's best friend confirming your suspicions that he's been cheating on you, you go to his house to confront him. Instead of being greeted by your boyfriend, however, you're greeted by his dad, Minho. When you tell Minho what happened, he decides that he's willing to do anything to make you feel better.
Warnings: INFIDELITY, Bf's dad!Minho, age gap (Minho is written to be in his mid 40s and Reader is written to be in her early 20s), unprotected sex, creampie, slight dom/sub themes, oral (f receiving) use of the title "sir," praise kink, Reader and Jisung have an incredibly toxic relationship, attempted gaslighting, implied round 2. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!
Tags: @yoonguurt, @kwanisms
A/N: The dynamic between Reader and Jisung is heavily inspired by F.U. by Little Mix. If you haven't listened to it, I definitely recommend checking it out!
Fic is under the cut.
When you saw that you had a new Instagram dm, you had no reason to expect it to be anything other than your friends sharing a meme or your boyfriend sending you a cute post that made him think of you. The message was incredibly different from your expectations, however.
You opened the message and saw a collection of pictures sent by Jeno, one of Jisung’s friends. Each one showed messages where your boyfriend told Jeno about various times that he’d cheated on you with Minjeong, one of their other friends. It honestly would have hurt less if he’d been with anyone else, but you’d told Jisung countless times about your concerns regarding his excessive closeness with Minjeong specifically. Each time you asked him about his closeness to her, however, Jisung would call you crazy before telling you that he loved you and promising that nothing was going on between them.
As you could now see, however, every single one of those promises had been bullshit. You’d been suspicious for a while, but now you had the proof right in front of you. As you read the messages, you started to feel sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if crying until you couldn’t breathe or just killing Jisung sounded more appealing. Before you did anything else, however, you sent Jeno a message that said, “Thanks for telling me. I had a feeling, but it’s nice to know for sure.”
“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I just thought you deserved to know.”
You closed Instagram, and that was when the tears started to fall. You loved Jisung more than you’d ever loved a romantic partner before, so finding out that he’d betrayed you was devastating. Sure, he had his faults, but you still loved him. You even defended him every time your friends expressed their concerns due to his reputation for being a bit of a player. You knew all about the rumors, but when he asked you out, you really wanted to believe that he’d changed. Now, of course, you knew that he really hadn’t.
Once you didn’t have any tears left to cry, you decided that it was time to confront Jisung. As you got ready to leave, however, you couldn’t help but worry that you wouldn’t be able to do it. After all, you’d tried to end your relationship before. Every time, though, all he had to do to get you to change your mind was bat his pretty eyelashes, tell you that he was sorry, and kiss you with those soft lips that just drove you crazy. It was the same routine you’d been through with him a hundred times before. This time, however, you were determined to stand your ground, despite your worries and his manipulative tendencies. You were going to tell him that the two of you were done and mean it this time.
Once you were certain that you were ready, you drove to Jisung’s house and knocked on the door. You were surprised, however, to see his dad open the door instead. You stood frozen for a minute, unsure of what to say to him. You hadn’t really spoken to Mr. Choi much outside of family events that Jisung brought you along to. The biggest reason for that was the fact that you found him to be incredibly intimidating. You would have been lying if you’d said that he wasn’t also incredibly hot, though. He was significantly taller than you, with dark eyes that seemed to stare right into your soul every time he looked at you and a voice that you were certain should have belonged to an angel instead of a human. God, you really needed to get your thoughts under control. He was your boyfriend’s dad, for fuck’s sake.
In an attempt to shake the inappropriate thoughts, you asked, “Hi, Mr. Choi. Is Jisung here?”
“No, sorry. He went out with Minjeong earlier,” he said with a slight frown. “He always seems to be out with her, anymore.” You were pretty sure that you weren’t supposed to hear the last part, though, so you ignored it.
“I figured as much,” you responded, your voice starting to break.
“Is everything ok, (Y/N)?”
“Everything is fine, Mr. Choi. Thank you.”
“You can call me Minho, you know.”
You hesitated before you said, “Ok. In that case, thank you for asking, Minho, but everything is fine.”
“(Y/N), forgive me for saying this, but it really doesn’t seem like everything is fine. You sound like you’re trying not to cry. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Something about the softness in Minho’s voice made your walls crumble in an instant, and before you knew it, you were crying again. In between sobs, you told him about everything, from the screenshots to the number of times you’d tried to leave before and changed your mind, though you didn’t know how much he could understand. Once you calmed down a bit, you just sighed and said, “I can’t do it anymore. I love him, but he’s hurt me too many times.”
Seeing you so distressed because of his son devastated Minho. He’d thought that he raised Jisung better than that, but now he was starting to doubt himself. He would have a talk with Jisung about how he treated you another time, though. Right now, his priority was comforting you. When he was sure you were done talking, he pulled you into a hug and said, “Why don’t you come in? I could make you some tea, and we could talk a bit more. It might help.”
You were quiet for a minute while you thought about whether you should accept Minho’s offer. Initially, you wondered if Jisung would be weirded out by you hanging out with his dad without him. Then, you remembered that the entire reason you’d gone to his house was to tell him off for cheating on you, and suddenly you didn’t give a shit about how he would feel about it anymore. Without any further hesitation, you said, “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem at all,” he said as he opened the door the rest of the way.
You’d been in Jisung’s house before, but this time, you felt significantly different. Whether it was the reason you were there or the fact that you were there without Jisung, you weren’t entirely sure. Either way, though, walking through the door felt strange. As you entered the living room, you couldn’t help but think that this was probably the last time that you would be there. The thought was disappointing if you were being honest with yourself. Since you had started dating Jisung, you’d felt so at ease every time you were in his house.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Minho asking you if you still wanted some tea. You hesitated for a minute before you said, “No thank you. I’d just like to talk if that’s ok.”
“That’s perfectly fine. If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“Thank you.”
The room was quiet for a minute before Minho asked, “So, you said that you found out because someone sent you screenshots?”
“Yeah. Jeno sent me a message on Instagram with screenshots of messages that Jisung had sent him about hooking up with Minjeong.”
“I’m sorry that he did that to you, and I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.”
“There’s no reason for you to apologize. It’s not like you told him to do it,” you said with a laugh.
Minho knew that it was wrong, but when he saw you start to smile, he couldn’t help but think that you were absolutely beautiful. Hearing your laugh put a smile on his face and butterflies in his stomach, which was something he hadn’t experienced since Jisung’s mom had divorced him a few years prior. While he was embarrassed that he was feeling attracted to you, he also had to admit that it was nice to have those kinds of feelings for someone again.
The two of you continued to talk, and you found that you felt significantly better. Something about the gentle way that Minho spoke to you while he comforted you gave you the confidence that you needed to finally end your relationship with Jisung for good. Before you did, though, you decided that you wanted to have a bit of fun as revenge. Without giving yourself time to think about whether it was a good idea, you moved closer to Minho and kissed him.
You knew that what you were doing was wrong, but you loved the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours. Sure, part of the excitement you were feeling was because you were doing something you weren’t supposed to, but that wasn’t the only reason for your lack of care. As his lips moved against yours, you couldn’t help but think that Minho was a much better kisser than Jisung, probably because he had far more experience.
Sooner or later, however, you did pull away to catch your breath. When you did, though, you saw a look that you could only describe as utter shock on Minho’s face. That was when you really processed what you’d done, and you felt terrible. As the panic started to set in, you said, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. It was-”
“Amazing?”
“I mean, yeah, but it was also wrong. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
The last thing that you wanted to do was leave, but you knew that it was probably for the best. So, you stood up to grab your purse. Before you could get too far, though, Minho called out, “Wait.” You turned to face him, and he continued, “I don’t want you to go. If you want to go, then I won’t keep you, but you don’t have to.”
When you heard Minho say that he didn’t want you to go, a wave of relief washed over you. You really didn’t want this to be over yet, so you said, “I’ll stay, then.”
You sat back down on the couch, and before you could think about the consequences for too long, you kissed Minho again. Somehow, this time was even more exhilarating than the last. You never wanted it to end, and if the soft groan that slipped out as his lips moved against yours was any indication, neither did Minho.
After a few minutes, Minho deepened the kiss, and you tangled your hands in his hair as a familiar feeling of need started to build between your legs. You wanted to be ashamed of how little time it took for you to start thinking about fucking him, but you were too horny to care. It had been too long since the last time you’d gotten fucked, and now you were determined to change that. The tension between you had grown to be too much for you to bear, so you pulled away just enough to whisper, “I want you. Please?”
Minho smiled and asked, “What do you want, sweetheart?” with a teasing tone in his voice. You went quiet, and he added, “Come on, baby. If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give it to you.”
“Just want you to touch me. Please?”
Minho pretended to think for a minute before he started to kiss your neck, biting the skin occasionally. You moaned softly at the sensation, and it only worsened the tent that had started to form in his pants. He desperately wanted to be inside you, but he was more than willing to wait for that if it meant that he could watch you squirm at the slightest touch. It was a little bit mean, sure, but he just thought you were so cute.
Once Minho was satisfied with the patchwork of hickeys that he’d left on your neck, he pulled away just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. Once he had your shirt off and your bra undone, he gave your breasts the same treatment that he’d given your neck. You wanted to be upset that he was teasing you so much, but you really couldn’t find it in you. Especially when the way he touched you already felt so good.
Minho continued to kiss his way down your body until he found a comfortable position in between your legs. Before he went any further, however, he looked up at you and asked, “Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?”
“I’m sure. I want you.”
“Lift your hips up, angel.” You did as you were told, and Minho made quick work of removing your pants and underwear. When he finally saw your pussy, he groaned and whispered, “Fuck. So pretty.”
You whined softly, suddenly feeling shy as you realized that Minho was still fully clothed. Any shyness you were feeling was quickly forgotten, however, when he started to gently suck on your clit. The sensation drove you crazy, and without really thinking about it, you moaned loudly and said, “More, sir. Please.”
Hearing you call him “sir” made something snap in Minho’s brain. Before you knew what was happening, he started sucking faster and inserted two fingers into your pussy. You continued to moan loudly as Minho fucked you with his fingers, and every noise that left your lips drove the man insane. He could have said that he didn’t love the way you tasted on his tongue, but that would have been a complete lie. As much as he loved tasting you, though, he also desperately wanted his cock inside of you.
“Fuck! It feels so good, sir,” you moaned.
“I know, baby. You’re doing such a good job for me. Can’t wait to feel this beautiful pussy around my cock.”
“Please, sir. I want you to fuck me.”
“I promise I will, baby, but I want you to cum on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, baby?” You nodded vigorously, desperate to please Minho.
It didn’t take long at all for the knot in your stomach to start to tighten, which was how you knew that you would soon be giving Minho exactly what he wanted. You wanted to warn him that you were close, but you couldn’t have gotten the words out in time if you’d tried. You came undone around his fingers and tongue with a loud moan of his name, and he’d never wanted to fuck another person more than he wanted to fuck you in that moment.
Once you came down from your high, Minho carefully stood up and kissed you once again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You hated to admit it, but you were quickly getting addicted to the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours. You were certain that you only felt this way because he’d just given you the best head you’d ever had, but you were really considering a more serious relationship with Minho. That would have to happen after you officially broke up with Jisung, though.
Before you could think about it much longer, though, Minho pulled away from the kiss and asked, “Would you like to take this to my room?”
Still in a bit of a daze, you nodded and quietly said, “Sounds good.”
“Follow me, sweetheart.”
It was silly, but you couldn’t help but feel giddy every time Minho called you “sweetheart.” It had to be the way he said it, considering you’d never really liked the nickname much before. Honestly, though, most things sounded better when he said them. At this point, you were pretty sure that he could read the dictionary aloud and you would get butterflies in your stomach.
Before you could think about your newfound love for Minho’s voice much more, though, you found yourself in his bedroom. You’d never been in this particular room of the house before, but you had to say that it felt a lot cozier than Jisung’s room. The walls were painted a warm brown, and the soft lighting made you feel right at home. It was too soon to say with any certainty, but you were pretty sure that you could get used to spending time in Minho’s room.
You wanted to say something, but before you could, Minho pinned you to his bed and started to rub his clothed erection against your bare pussy. You moaned louder than you intended to, and you begged, “Please, sir. Want you inside me.”
“Fuck, baby. Need you so bad.”
Minho stood up just long enough to rid himself of his clothes before he was back on top of you. As you watched him strip, the only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted him inside you. You wanted to beg him again to just fuck you already, but before you had the chance, you felt him carefully aligning his tip with your entrance. He gave you one more look to confirm that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, and when you nodded, that was all he needed to slowly push his hips forward.
When you finally felt Minho inside of you, the only thing you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and moan. He was bigger than you were used to, and you knew that it would take you longer than usual to adjust, but you also knew that you could take him. Once he checked in with you again to make sure that you were ok, he slowly started to move. It hurt just a little bit at first, but the pain quickly turned to pure pleasure as you adjusted to the sensation.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. It’s like this pussy was made for me.” You moved your arms from around Minho’s neck and covered your face, feeling shy as a result of the way that he spoke to you. He quickly moved your hands away from your face, however, and said, “Don’t get all shy on me now, princess. Let me see you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Something about hearing Minho call you a good girl just melted your brain. It was like you couldn’t think about anything except him, and all you wanted was to make him proud of you. If you could think straight, you’d probably be embarrassed at the state that your boyfriend’s father had you in. In the moment, though, you loved it and only wanted more.
“Harder, sir. Please?” you begged, digging your nails into his back as he fucked you.
“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy, sweetheart,” Minho said with a groan as he started to pound into you faster.
The moans and whines that left your mouth as Minho fucked you were like music to his ears. It was embarrassing to admit it, but he knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially when he saw the way your tits bounced as he fucked you. He didn’t really care about that, though. As long as he got to see you like this again, he was ok with however his body chose to respond to you.
Within minutes, Minho felt his release start to approach, just like he knew it would. With a moan he said, “Fuck, baby, I’m close. Where do you want it?”
“Inside, want you to fill me up,” you cried out, looking up at him with tears starting to form in your eyes.
Seconds later, Minho stilled inside of you, a string of expletives leaving his mouth as his orgasm hit him like a truck. As he continued to fuck you through his release, you started to get desperate to reach your own. You tried to bring a hand down to your clit to speed up the process, but before you could, Minho moved it and brought his own hand to where your bodies were connected.
Once Minho started to rub your clit, it didn’t take long for you to feel yourself getting closer to the release that you wanted so badly. You wanted to give him a heads up that you were close, you really did. When you opened your mouth, however, a loud moan came out instead, and your entire body tensed as you rode out your second orgasm of the day.
As Minho coaxed you through your second orgasm at his hands, he couldn’t help but think once again that he really wanted to see you like this more often. Before that conversation could happen, though, he made a point to take good care of you. After he carefully pulled out, he helped you to clean up and get dressed. Once you were clothed and comfortable, he got himself dressed again, and he carefully climbed into bed with you. He then found a comfortable position and pulled you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you relaxed into his hold.
You weren’t entirely sure how long the two of you stayed in bed together, but you had to admit that you really liked being held by Minho. After a while, though, you started to get a bit restless. He seemed to notice, and asked, “Do you want to go do something else?” You nodded, and he added, “How about we go to the kitchen? I could cook you something, if you want.”
“That sounds great. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, baby.”
Hearing Minho continue to call you “baby” even after the two of you stopped having sex made your heart do somersaults in your chest. You were embarrassed to admit it, but you really wanted to spend more time with him. Sure, you absolutely wanted to have sex with him again, but it was more than that, too. He had the kind of calming presence that you craved, and he was so much nicer to you than Jisung had ever been. You hated to admit it, but you were falling for your soon-to-be ex’s dad.
The two of you made your way to the kitchen, talking about whatever came to mind. While you sat down at the table, Minho got to work making the two of you scrambled eggs with toast and bacon. While he cooked, you continued to talk and get to know each other better. In the span of only a few minutes, however, the conversation quickly devolved into talking shit about Jisung.
“Hold on. How many times have you tried to break up with him?” Minho asked.
“Four.”
“And how long have you been together?”
“A year and a half.”
“You should have said something sooner, baby.”
“I didn’t think it was an option,” you mumbled.
Minho felt absolutely terrible for not seeing the way Jisung treated you sooner, but he was relieved that he could still be there for you in the end. He thought that you were such a sweet girl, and you deserved so much better than the way that his son had treated you. As the two of you continued to talk, he found himself thinking that he could probably treat you much better. Whether you wanted him to do that, though, was up in the air, at least from his perspective.
Minho sat down with you to eat, and you quickly found that the more you spoke to him, the more certain you were that you wanted more than a sexual relationship. He made you laugh in a way that you weren’t used to, and you loved it. Plus, his responses when you spoke showed that he really cared about what you had to say. You felt loved, respected, and seen in a way that you never did with your soon-to-be ex.
The two of you were so lost in your conversation, you didn’t even notice that someone else had come into the house until you heard Jisung ask, “What are you doing here, baby?”
Hearing the nickname that sounded so sweet leaving Minho’s lips come from Jisung instead left a sour taste in your mouth. Before you could think better of it, you said, “Don’t call me that, asshole.”
“Woah, what the fuck did I do?”
“You’ve been cheating on me with Minjeong!”
Jisung’s face went pale as the realization that you knew hit him, but he quickly regained his composure and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, princess. She’s just a friend, we’ve been over this.”
“Oh really? Then what’s this?” you asked, opening your phone and showing him the screenshots that Jeno had sent you. Jisung immediately went quiet, knowing that he’d been caught. “We’re done, Ji.”
“Whatever, good luck finding somebody better than me.”
Before you could even think to stop yourself, you said, “I already did,” turning to smile at Minho.
Jisung quickly grabbed a bag that had been sitting on the counter and started to walk away, calling out that he was spending the night at Minjeong’s apartment. He then immediately got into his car and left, not wanting to think about what your words or the way you’d looked at his dad meant. Once he was gone, you immediately started laughing. Hearing your laugh made Minho smile, and before he could stop himself, he asked, “So, you already found someone?” with a teasing tone in his voice.
Your eyes went wide as you remembered what you said to Jisung, and you started to say, “Well, I mean-”
“I really hope that you meant me, otherwise I think that things might get a little bit awkward.”
You couldn’t help but start to laugh again. Once you caught your breath, though, you stood up, marched to where Minho was sitting, and kissed him. He immediately deepened the kiss, and a soft moan slipped out. He pulled away just long enough to say, “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna be the death of me,” before kissing you again, this time grabbing your ass as he did.
It was going to be a very long night for you, but you didn’t care. You wanted Minho, and you loved that he wanted you, too.
Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this one, please like and reblog! If you'd like to read more of my work, you can find my masterlist here. If you wanna see what else I have in the works, my upcoming works list is here. If none of that catches your attention, or there's something specific that you want to see, send a request via my asks or dms! If you want to be tagged in my new fics, you can leave a comment on any of my posts, send an ask, or send a dm with the username that you'd like tagged!
Thank you again for reading. I hope you have a wonderful day!
Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.
Wattpad | AO3
Chapter 2
---
Chapter 1
It’s a bit unusual to Minho to be asked to grab something from the main office, but with everyone so busy with the new comeback and with him being the only one who’s finished filming his parts, it made sense to send him.
Essentially, he’s free, so he can’t complain, and it gives him purpose to do acts of service for those around him.
So, he makes sure to write down everything that’s needed from the SM headquarters in his phone. Some documents that have yet to be signed, a black notebook containing some plans for the shooting, and a few other items.
Apparently, there’s only an intern working today, which is why no one could come bring the needed things, but they’ve been notified someone is coming to pick them up, so everything should be alright.
That’s how it usually is during summer months, on Fridays; everyone is away on holiday.
Minho briefly wonders why their superiors insisted on filming this music video during the middle of July, when barely any staff is available, but it is what it is.
He waves everyone goodbye and goes to his car, driving slowly towards the SM building with his AC turned on to the max. It’s so hot and miserable outside, he could die, and the fact that he’s danced for the better part of the last 4 hours doesn’t help too much either, as he still feels sweat droplets rolling down his back and forehead.
Once he gets to the building, he makes his way to the elevator and presses on the 2nd floor, where the main office is located. The elevator moves slowly, he notices for the millionth time.
He should’ve taken the stairs; it would’ve definitely been quicker.
Once in front of the door to the main office, he knocks twice, but there’s no response.
He decides to open the door anyway and sees that the small office is empty, so he takes his time to look through it. Although he’s been with this company for the past two decades, he’s never had to come here.
The office is small, it has 6 desks clamped together in a U shape, an old coffee machine, 6 worn out chairs, 4 old computers and 2 laptops, one of which is open.
This is where the intern sits. Minho notes, making his way over to admire their desk. It’s tidier than the others, although some things look misplaced, but it’s only natural when you’re actively working.
The laptop is open on a Twitter tab that Minho initially decides to ignore. It’s not like he’d want to invade anyone’s privacy.
He quickly changes his mind when he notices that the profile picture of that account is a picture of him at Waterbomb, his torso naked and a cocky grin on his lips.
It makes him raise an eyebrow. Maybe the intern is doing a… market research of some sort. Surely, it’s nothing.
It’s nothing.
Still, it’s been years since he’s last googled his name or read anything his fans say about him, and he’s curious, so he decides to take a quick peak and see what this profile’s on about.
---
NSFW as fuckkk but just the thought of Minho ramming me from behind makes my knees weak
and the fact that he’d just have to say it and i’d be there on my knees
ugh im a slut for him
Posted 2 hours ago by justanotherminhoesimp
---
Minho’s eyes grow big instantly.
Who the fuck posts something like that on the internet for the whole world to see?
He knows some fans are a bit… delusional, but he’s never expected something so explicit.
However, curiosity gets the better of him, and he clicks on the post to see if this person’s got any replies.
---
girllll, ikr?! thinking about it makes me sickkkk
Posted 2 hours ago by shineesfive
whoever he’s fucking is one lucky bitch
Posted 2 hours ago by blingblingisjonghyunnnn
could never be me because if I’d ever see him irl I’d turn around and walk in the opposite direction 🤣
Posted 45 minutes ago by justanotherminhoesimp
and yet you post the most deranged stuff about him 🤣 🤣 🤣
Posted 25 minutes ago by shineesfive
real me and internet me are different people 🤣
Posted 15 minutes ago by justanotherminhoesimp
---
Minho chuckls slightly at this small interaction. Although he finds it very weird that this justanotherminhoesimp person wrote such sexual things about him, he also finds it somewhat amusing.
Would they really not want to meet him at all if given the chance?
When you fantasise about something, shouldn’t you want it to happen with all your heart and soul? At least that’s how he’s always been about his life. He fantasised about becoming a successful idol, and he’s done it. He fantasised about achieving a beautifully sculpted body, and he’s done it. When he’s fantasised about a girl, he took her on dates, he didn’t hide from her.
Shouldn’t it be the same with… whatever this wild fantasy was? Hypothetically, if this person had the chance to meet him, shouldn’t they want it?
He clicks back on the Twitter profile and was about to scroll further down to check what other things they could’ve said about him, but steps on the hallway make him instantly click on the power button in panic.
He certainly doesn’t want to be caught scrolling on someone else’s laptop.
The door opens and a young girl walks confidently through, her eyes glued to her phone and an amused smile playing on her lips.
“Hello.” Minho says as soon as he sees her, and her eyes shoot up from the phone to his face, her smile immediately dropping. “I came to pick up a few items… you must’ve been notified?”
“Oh, hello.” She replies instantly, bowing respectfully, before raising her gaze again, not looking at him. Instead, her eyes trail over all the way to her laptop screen, which is black, and Minho can almost see her let out a breath of relief. “Yes, of course. Just a moment.”
She replies with the same urgency, and the air feels thick. She seems uncomfortable as she approaches Minho to reach her desk and bends down to pick up a bag from the floor.
“Here you go.” She forces a smile on her lips and prays to God he’d just leave already.
“Thank you. Do you mind if I check that everything’s in here?”
“Not at all.” She points towards her desk but makes sure to close the laptop screen. She doesn’t remember whether she’s closed her browser, and if she didn’t, it would be a disaster if it somehow opened and revealed her secret Twitter profile.
She's a Minho stan through and through. She loves everything this man does and enjoys fantasising about him. She doesn't remember when she started doing it, but it was a funny activity during stressful school days, and she enjoyed creating the “perfect” man in her head and using Minho's face as a representation. Eventually, she started putting her thoughts on paper and sharing her work with the world, and it was even funnier to see that so many people shared the sentiment and enjoyed reading her stories.
Of course, she's completely aware that it's just a wild fantasy that would never come to life, nor would she want it to. She’s completely aware that the Minho she writes about and the real Minho are different through and through. She hadn't even thought about Minho when she applied and got hired to work at SM.
Fantasies are meant to stay fantasies. They're just fun to think about.
And the most important thing about them, is that no one should know you have them, especially not the person you've written about.
She doesn’t normally write or read smut at work, much less about someone important who works at the same company that hired her, but with everyone away and not much to do, she took the liberty to do it today.
And today, out of all days, she had to encounter the one person that occupies most of her thoughts when it comes to sexual fantasies.
Sure, Minho’s about a decade older than her, but who cares?
It’s not real, and it’d never be real, but fuck, he looks so good, and his smell is intoxicating.
She tries to appear busy and do anything else but watch him sort through the things in the paper bag while he’s sat at her desk, so she ends up starting to rearrange the pens from her coworkers’ desks.
She even considers excusing herself and walking out just to make sure she doesn’t have to see him, because fuck, he’s so attractive that it’s hard to breathe. He looks even better in person than he does in pictures.
As soon as he’s done, he stands up from her chair and smiles.
“Everything’s here. Thank you.”
She smiles back and nods and wishes he’d just get out quicker.
“I’m Minho, by the way.” He offers his hand for a shake, and she fights all her urges to grimace.
“Mira.” She barely manages to let out and shakes his hand, then averts her eyes.
“Beautiful name. Thanks again. See you around?”
“Sure.” She nods and watches him leave and hopes she’s never going to have to see him again.
She’s been working at SM for about a year and never had to interact with any celebrities, so why he came around today is a complete mystery, something that she hopes won’t ever occur again in the future.
~
His hand felt nice in hers. It’s way bigger than the pictures, and his hold was strong. If you can tell something about a person from a handshake, what she got from Minho’s hold was that he is a very confident person, sure of himself.
She could feel hardened skin on his palm, most likely from all the time he spends in the gym daily. If she had any time to observe his hand, she would’ve certainly seen healed calluses and rough patches of skin.
She can’t stop thinking about it, so she does what she’s been doing for the past years, an unhealthy hobby of taking her dirtiest thoughts directly to Twitter.
After all, what better way to spend your Saturday night than writing stupid shit on the internet and reading smut?
---
let’s talk about Minho’s hands
don’t y’all think they’re probably not too soft since he lifts weight so often? he must have healed callouses all over
also, obligatory NSFW: his rough hands around my neck would be the perfect Saturday night activity
choke the hell out of me, Minho
Posted 35 minutes ago by justanotherminhoesimp
---
~
Minho couldn’t stop thinking about the dirty post he’s read on Mira’s computer, and although he’d been way too busy Friday night to investigate, he has a completely empty Saturday night.
Opening his laptop, he logs into a burner Twitter account and accesses justanotherminhoesimp’s profile. He’s grateful for his good memory to remember the name and finds it relatively quickly, and to his delight, this person’s profile is public.
He wonders if it could really be that innocent looking girl that could barely look at him yesterday afternoon, but he doubts it.
He notices she’s just posted half an hour ago, and reading the post, he lets out a chuckle before turning his right-hand palm up. She’s spot on with the healed callouses.
He lets out another laugh as he gets further down in the post and reads the last line.
choke the hell out of me, Minho
This is so creepy, but somehow also pretty entertaining.
There are no replies under this post, so he goes back to her profile and scrolls down, finally having the liberty to stalk without the risk of getting caught.
---
Minho looks that absolutely wrecked me (a thread)
Posted 5 days ago by justanotherminhoesimp
---
Minho looks at all the close-up pictures of his abs and arms, his side-profile, even his neck and hand veins.
Is this what people are into? He wonders and tilts his head, deciding he needs to grab a beer (or a few) to see what else this person has in store for him.
---
Imagine you were working at a company and Minho was your coworker, and he’d strike up a conversation with you, and you’d become friends who drink together and fuck occasionally just to let off some steam, but you actually fall in love eventually.
And now stop imagining.
My new fic “Office Romance” is out now. Read on my AO3: # justanotherminhoesimp
Posted 1 month ago by justanotherminhoesimp
---
AO3? What the fuck is that? Minho frowns, not recognising whatever this is supposed to be.
He clicks on the link and gets redirect to a webside, Archive of Our Own, something he’s never heard of before.
---
Office Romance (Choi Minho Fanfic) by justanotherminhoesimp
SHINee
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Choi Minho/Reader, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, smutshinee, fluff, Shameless Smut, Deepthroating, Daddy Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Dom/Sub, Orgasm, Getting to Know Each Other, Strangers to Lovers, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Moaning, Wet Dream, First Kiss, I am delusional and I know it, Coworkers AU
---
As Minho reads through these, he gets more confused than ever.
What the fuck is a smut?
He shakes his head and considers not reading whatever the fuck this is supposed to be.
Based on the descriptions, it seems like this will just be porn.
He shakes his head again and drinks another beer, and changes his mind, so he scrolls down to start the story.
---
Y/N wakes up, excited for the first time in months.
Today, she is starting a new job as an editor for a big publishing company.
She gets dressed, feeling as butterflies fly around in her stomach. The butterflies only get more restless as she leaves home early to make sure she’s not going to be late on her first day.
She even takes a taxi, something she wouldn’t usually do due to how expensive life in the city is, but she doesn’t want to take any chances today.
Today is going to be perfect. She’s going to do everything right: get to work, show everyone her skills, maybe even make friends with a few people if she’s lucky enough to have nice coworkers, and then come back home and take a long bath and wash the day off her skin.
Just as planned, she arrives 20 minutes early, leaving her enough time to pick her badge up from security.
She makes her way through the gates and presses on the elevator button, waiting for ages until it reaches the ground floor.
Once inside, she presses on the 2nd floor where she'd apparently have a shared office with a few other people and waits for the doors to close.
Just before they are fully closed, a large hand gets between them, forcing them to open again.
“Sorry.” the man says with an apologetic smile.
“No issues.” Y/N smiles back politely.
“Oh, you’re also going to the 2nd floor?”
“Yes.”
“You must be our new editor then!” The man replies gleefully. “I’m Minho. Choi Minho. We’ve emailed a few times.”
“Oh!” Y/N bows immediately. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Y/N.”
“It’s good indeed to finally put a face to the name.”
“This elevator is quite slow, isn’t it?” Y/N chuckles. It feels like they’ve spoken for ages, but they’ve barely reached the 1st floor.
“Yeah. I don’t know what’s up with it. We complained many times to management, but so far, they’ve refused to do anything to fix it.”
“Can’t be helped, then.” Y/N shrugs.
“Oh, we’re here! Finally!” Minho laughs brightly as he lets Y/N get out before him like a true gentleman. He then guides her towards the main office and to her new desk, right in front of the window. The view from it is beautiful, she notices.
---
As Minho reads, he can’t help but notice a few similarities between this story and the SM building and Main Office.
Maybe justanotherminhoesimp is Mira for real. He shudders at the thought of someone working at SM and idolising him enough to write about him.
Still, he keeps reading and the similarities only get more uncanny. The office layout is the same as the place she works at, and she even sits in front of a window.
Although entirely creeped out, he can’t stop. He reads and reads thousands of words about how Y/N and Minho get closer and closer, until one night, they go out drinking.
---
“You said you can’t drink much.” Minho chuckles as he sees Y/N drink her 5th glass of Soju.
“This is nothing, dear.” She brushes him off with a flick of her hair and an intoxicating chuckle.
“Really?” He leans towards her, his face mere inches apart. Close enough to feel his breath on her cheek.
“Yes, really.” She turns around and looks right into his eyes as he gently touches the back of her head with his right hand.
Y/N is grateful that the place they’re sat at is empty, otherwise she would’ve gotten very embarrassed by how direct Minho is being.
He presses a confident kiss against her lips, and as soon as she responds, he doesn’t hesitate to deepen it and touch her tongue with his.
“This is too public…” Y/N says after a little while, her breaths shallow.
“Wanna come over?” Minho asks, the same directness and confidence lacing his tone. He wants her and doesn’t hesitate to let her know.
Y/N nods sheepishly, and the taxi ride to Minho’s apartment seems way too long for how impatient she’s being, her arousal pooling in her panties.
As soon as they get there, Minho’s demeanour changes completely. He’s a dom through and through, and he doesn’t falter to command Y/N to take her clothes off to let him admire her body.
“You’re so beautiful.” He breaths out, unbuttoning his shirt as he watches her strip.
Left in only her underwear, Minho makes his way on top of her, marking his way into her skin with soft bites, listening to every whine and moan that comes out of her mouth.
When he reaches her lips, he kisses her over and over, driving her crazy, making her desperate for more.
“Minho…”
“What is it, hm?” He asks in a sultry voice.
“I need you.”
“Oh, yeah?” He asks, almost mockingly.
“Mhm.”
“What do you want me to do, hm?”
“Uhm… just…”
“What, huh?” He teases her. “I won’t do anything until you tell me what you want.” He smirks and makes his way down her body again, stopping in front of her covered core.
He takes her panties off with ease and spreads her legs open, but the only thing Y/N wants to do is close them shut, as she feels embarrassed.
Minho tuts instantly, keeping her legs in place as he presses a chaste kiss against her pussy.
“I still haven’t heard you.” He says again, biting her thigh.
“I want… I want you…”
“To do what?”
“Your tongue…”
“Hmm… where? Here?” He asks as he licks a strip in-between her folds, forcing a desperate moan out of her.
“Yes.”
“You have to beg me first.”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me.” He kisses her thigh again, and the pressure between her legs gets unbearable. She needs him to fuck her with his tongue, to bring her the sweet bless of an orgasm.
“P-please.” She says, almost in a whisper.
“Didn’t hear you.” He smirks again.
“Please!” Y/N says, this time louder.
“Now, that’s a good girl. Daddy will take care of you well, hm?” Minho says in a low voice, sending shivers all over her body as he leans back in and connects his mouth with her pussy once more, making sure to pay attention to every sound she lets out to see what makes her feel good.
It doesn’t take her long to let go on his tongue, and satisfied, he gets back on top of her to give her time to recover and buries his head in the crook of her neck, sucking her skin and leaving purple marks all over, to show everyone she’s his and his only.
“Daddy, please… more.”
“What was that?” Minho smirks against her collarbone.
“I need more. Please…”
“Please what, baby?”
“Please fuck me.”
“Do you want daddy to fuck you hard? Is that it?”
“Yes, daddy. Please.”
“Such a good girl.” He praises. “Get on all fours.”
She follows his command and sits up, getting confused when Minho grabs a fistful of her hair and guides her head towards his crotch.
“Open up.” He says, and she opens his mouth, feeling him shove all his length down her throat.
While gentle at first, Minho eventually sets up a consistent rhythm, keeping a steady hold on Y/N as he fucks her throat roughly.
“Your throat feels so good.” He compliments, caressing her hair while seeing her eyes swell up with tears.
Feeling close to his climax, Minho pulls out and makes her turn around, positioning his dick against her entrance. He pushes in slowly, letting her get used to his cock as she lets out a loud moan.
“You feel so good, baby.” Minho rolls his head back, gripping her hips with his hands.
Y/N becomes a moaning mess as soon as Minho bottoms out and continues fucking himself into her, bringing her to a second orgasm as he releases himself inside of her.
---
What the fuck did I just read? Minho’s eyes open wide, but even with how weird the whole thing was, he couldn’t ignore the raging boner in his pants, now a bit too uncomfortably tight.
The writing was not the best, but it somehow got to him, since it's the first time he's ever read something like this.
It was certainly weird to read porn about himself, but as he’s always been a quite imaginative person, it was way too easy to fall into the trap of visualising everything he’s read about.
He is, of course, himself, and Y/N is… that girl from the main office.
Closing his eyes and rolling his head back, he takes his cock out of his pants and gives it a couple strokes, thinking of Mira begging him to touch her, fucking her from behind while smacking her ass.
It doesn’t take him long to let go and release himself in his hand while hearing Mira’s soft moans in his mind.
Genre: Smut, Angsty (It’s kinda hurt but also comfort???)
Word Count: 4000+ words
Content Warning(s): Past Child Molestation (There’s a flashback part, but it’s not very detailed), Dealing with Trauma, Sex, Dark Religious Themes, Religious Trauma
Author’s Notes: Yes, I know I said I don’t allow any sort of rape in any of my stories, but a friend suggested me to do this sort of thing and made me realise that I’ve gone through something similar where I wanted to do something again. So pretty much, this is what the story is going. It is a bit of a weird one, but I hope I was able to convey Key’s emotions well. Also, Key is in his 20s and the Pastor is about in his 40s.
I still think about what happened, the way he touched me, the way he went about it, and even the way my parents reacted when I finally told them.
While I did feel some sort of guilt, I also had this strange feeling inside of me that would admit that I liked it. Maybe I was in denial, or maybe I was being serious. I didn’t know how to feel, or how I could go about my life without pinpointing exactly the feeling I was getting.
Nonetheless, I knew I wanted to do it again.
—
It was something I thought about for years on end, and I hadn’t been able to tell anyone. I was just ashamed, or maybe people would assume that I was lying for clout.
I knew that it was something that truly happened to me, I even had the very clothes that I wore on that day. I remembered what I ate for breakfast, what my mother was planning on making me for dinner, and even down to a couple of minutes before the incident.
I never went to therapy for my pain, nor I ever went back to church. My parents were disappointed, grounding me every time I missed one day for a week until I went. It was at that very moment that my faith was crippled.
I tend to cry when I think of my emotions, but this time was different. A part of me wanted to move on, even though I didn’t know how to. That was when I was on the phone with my parents, explaining about the pain that I’d been going through. They suggested me to go back, but I wasn’t sure.
My parents hated the fact that I was an atheist. The amount of screaming matches I had to go through, just because they wanted to force the bible on me. Every single time I tell them to stop, they get louder and louder. I had no power over them, and I would feel trapped within myself.
However, this was the first time I agreed with them. I was in my 20s, surely he would change. I shook my head, before cutting off to process exactly what I was about to do.
I planned my trip to my hometown, packing up clothes I would know they would approve. I knew I had to look as manly as possible, especially when I go to church. I took in a crisped grey suit and pants, with a bow on them.
A couple of days later, I finally made that trip and was at the front door of my parents’ house. They seemed so happy to see me upon opening and letting me in, but the facade broke away, and their strictness was back.
“Kibum, if you’re staying here, you will need to go to church with us every Sunday.” I sighed, face-palming while contemplating why I thought it would be a good idea to come back home. I knew I’d only be here for a week, but just the memories coming back made it ten times worse.
I saw my childhood room, thinking about all the times I cried alone in my bed that day. I just wish I could speak to my past self and comfort him. Everything here was filled with horrible thoughts, and not even the TV was safe. The amount of Christian content that I had to watch was concerning. I used to be made fun of at school for not watching shows that all the kids were watching simply because it wasn’t allowed.
I saw a picture of my younger self, in a suit ready to go to church. Right next to it, there was another picture of me, but I was being baptised. It was the happiest day of my life. I thought that I was going to love Jesus forever and be a Christian for the rest of my life. Sadly, that wouldn’t be the case.
I woke up to my parents knocking on my door to get ready to go to church. I was very nervous, yet I put on a brave face as I took a shower to clear my mind. Maybe, this was going to be fine, right?
When I got ready to go into the car, I saw my father waiting outside while my mother walked slowly down the stairs. We didn’t live that far from our local church, but my parents always insisted on walking together like a family. I never understood that, even now as an adult.
I was finally at the place where I feared, the hall. Everyone was walking in, chatting to one and another while I sat alone. Seeing how “lonely” I looked according to my mother, as she was chatting to one of my childhood friends, she introduced me to him, causing me to awkwardly wave my hand as the both of them stared in my direction.
I’ve been an adult for some time now, and even listening to the pastor speaking felt like a bore. But then, he stared at me — and we locked eyes for a whole second before turning back to the crowd, and the service suddenly got somewhat interesting. He seemed happier now that I was here, which felt sweet on its own but weird. How did he know who I was even though I was 10 when I last saw him?
My mind was puzzling in my head, and before I could even process what just happened, the church was over. I didn’t even realise the time until my mother tapped me on the shoulder for food.
I sat down at a table alone, not wanting to sit next to my parents. I had a plate full of rice, bulgogi and kimchi, and ate slowly but steadily. As I was just forgetting about what just happened, I saw Pastor Y/N walking towards me. My eyes widened, and I was still in shock by the time he reached me.
“Is this seat free?” He asked. I shook my head and he sat by me. He still had the same scent 10 years later. He hasn’t even changed a thing at all! As a matter of fact, he looked even better!
“Kibum… you’ve grown so much! I’m so glad you decided to come by today!” He seemed polite in nature, and didn’t seem to have any malicious intentions. I mean, it was normal for him to go up to people and speak to them.
But then, the incident started playing in my head. I stood as still as a rock, looking down so he couldn’t see me. I wanted to ask but was nervous. What if he wasn’t the same guy anymore? Surely he could do me one last time…
“Hey, Kibum… can I invite you to dinner tomorrow?” I quickly agreed, nothing trying to take time to think about what I was getting myself into.
Tomorrow felt like a breeze, I didn’t even remember what I did when I was going home. I did remember my mother pulling me into a corner away from my father just to ask me if Pastor Y/N did anything to me. I kept quiet, shaking my head as I looked back at Mother to see if my answer was verified.
“I saw him chatting to you today. He told me he misses you after all these years, and wants to see you in Church more. He could help you build your relationship with God again.” I tried not to roll my eyes for the 8th time, but I wanted to keep the lies going… unless I wasn’t.
I was invited to come for dinner at Pastor Y/N’s. I knew it was something I didn’t want to share with my parents, as I knew that it would come with something more than just two consenting adults meeting in a house.
That very night, I made sure to buy some condoms and lube to bring with me in case anything escalated. I planned out an outfit that seemed masculine enough so he wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at me — even though I was sure that he knew for a fact that I was not a heterosexual man.
I fell asleep, seeing the man that I always dreamed of being close to — but was unsure how to feel about it. As an adult, I felt like a kid again. He held my hand like he was crossing the road, reminding me to look both ways before walking. I saw the road form around me, seeing each sparkle and star create the world around us, seeing familiar people appearing one by one.
It was then that I was brought into the Church, people were singing while praying at the same time. There were too many people, so Pastor Y/N took me backstage where the changing rooms were. At that point, my heart started pounding. This was the moment that it happened, his hand landed on my thighs so he could stroke them. His hands were rough and scratchy, they were also huge enough to cover the whole diameter of my legs from my thighs to my ankles.
My dress pants were pulled down, revealing bright blue underwear with thunderbolts on them. I’d thought he would stop right there, but he continued on and removed the very thing that was hiding my genital area. Everything was a blur after that, having my head facing the wall and feeling the action happening from my rear end.
I woke up almost feeling like I wanted to cry, so I lay there at 5 am while waiting for me to fall back to sleep. I then felt something hard underneath my pants, which meant that I had a wet dream as well.
This was how it was for over a decade. I get flashback dreams, I wake up crying, I get hard, I masturbate, I fall back to sleep. It never failed me. It remained the same ever since. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how I process things, but everyone that I told was quick to say how unnatural it was for me to act the way I did.
I woke up with my pants still down, unable to recall what happened last night. I got into the shower, thinking about everything I wanted to say to that man. My stomach was growling like I was hungry, but deep down inside I was a nervous wreck.
I had to awkwardly eat breakfast with my parents since my mother filled out the whole table with all sorts of fruits, a tray for the tea set and some other drinks, and bread with some sandwich toppings on another tray. All the trays that were displayed made it seem like there was way more stuff than expected. I rarely ate — only trying to take as little as possible so I could excuse myself into my room to get ready.
I sat in my room, waiting for his name to pop up on my phone. He gave me the green light, prompting me to get dressed and walk out of the house. It was noon and my parents were a bit concerned as to why I was leaving at this time. I thought of a quick lie of me walking around my childhood city as an excuse and they accepted it — surprisingly.
I ran off, walking towards a train station that would lead me to his place. He called me a couple of times to ask me if I was coming, but I was underground and had to wait until I arrived to reply to him. He picked me up at the train station, pulling me into a warm embrace which felt imitated.
“Kibum… how have you been doing? Was the journey alright?” He said in his soft voice, possibly softer than he was at the church the day before. He held my hand as we walked out of the station, walking towards what seemed to be his neighbourhood. He lived in a nice little penthouse that seemed small, but it had all the view he could have.
We entered from the entrance, before going onto the lift to the very top. He unlocked his door, opening it to showcase a very warm atmosphere that I could get at any pub or restaurant. Everywhere seemed neat but messy at the same time, while also looking expensive looking. It was a sight I didn’t want to miss, especially with the fact that every single glance was something worth noting, like the gramophone sitting at the corner of the room.
“Make yourself at home, Kibum.” He patted the couch, indicating him asking me to sit down. I eventually did, while he was searching around the room for something catching up to our conversation. “So Kibum… tell me what you have been doing ever since you left Church.”
“Well…” I started. “I moved out and so I couldn’t afford to come all the way here.” I went with the conversation, knowing that he was going to say something very cliche.
“Kibum…” He stopped what he was doing to sit next to me, with his hands on mine while they were on my lap. “Listen to me… Jesus will always love you, regardless of that.”
I didn’t know if I wanted to continue with that talk, yet it was my fault for agreeing to go to a literal pastor’s house. Sure I didn’t want to go through a whole lecture on how God is good and great for the millionth time, but a part of me just wants to see what would happen… between us.
“I always felt like I had to go every Sunday… but the moment I couldn’t… I feel fake.” I lied, even giving him the puppy eyes that I mastered since I was a kid.
“Kibum, don’t say that…” I felt his hand on my back, the adrenaline of the conversation was causing me to go on and keep the lie going. “I always knew your love for Jesus is real, even since you were a boy.”
He was starting to get close to me, having his other hand stroking my crotch area. I was horrified, but I was also excited that I was going to get with Pastor Y/N again after all these years of craving for his touch.
“Kibum…” He was checking me off through my clothes, and I could see a small spark in his eyes. He saw something that he was looking for, and that was me. My young body that he wanted to use again. “…Please… may I pray for you?”
Suddenly, my mind went blank, unsure how to feel or to respond. Was he going to use me again, or was this bait created by my imagination which was so desperate that I generated my suffering by my thoughts?
After all the thoughts that ran through my mind, I agreed, holding both of my hands while we faced each other. His eyes closed, and so did mine. This used to be my everything as a child, being able to picture God clearly with his white-washed face and his gown. Nowadays, I see nothing. It was impossible to convince myself to see otherwise.
“Father in heaven, I thank you for being brother Kibum back into the Church.“ He started praying, in which he started becoming more preachy as every sentence occurred.
I felt his every nudge, every poke, and all the attempts he made to touch me in any way or form. He even managed to place his hand on my thighs while it was spread apart, causing me to be unable to close it.
He was getting deep into his prayer, and I was feeling slightly uncomfortable, but excited at the same time. This was what I was waiting for, or at least that was what I thought I needed. I wasn’t sure how to feel. Did I accomplish anything? Did I make things worse? Oh god… did I make anything worse?
But then… he slipped his hand under my pants, and all those thoughts left my mind.
It was just pure… silence. I was horny, I needed this, and I wanted this. It was exactly what I was looking for at this very moment… someone using me for their benefit. That was my guilty pleasure.
“Wow… your penis barely has changed!” Pastor Y/N went close to me, and I gulped as loudly as I felt like a cartoon character. I could feel that lust in his eyes, doing something that he shouldn’t have.
Then… his lips touched mine. There was no noise, just the sound of smooches and hums in between. He laid me down on the couch, kissing me more like I was a drug. He wasn’t afraid to use his tongue, which made him look attractive to me.
He pulled out, looking directly at me. “I know you’re a homosexual, Kibum.” That threw me off guard, but I owned my identity, so I claimed it as it was. He told me that we could pray again later, but he wanted to feel my gorgeous boy body.
Boy body…? What does he mean by that? Why would he exclaim that my body was one of a boy? Could it be that he still sees me as the kid he used? Either way, my vision of myself was still that young me, but with more clarity and less confusion. With my big age, I would’ve learned how to say stop. Nonetheless, it has been locked away in a treasure chest, and thrown out the window.
I didn’t feel a single guilt throughout all of it. He kept stripping off my clothes, showing my bare body to him, feeling our skin against each other’s. I knew it was Pastor Y/N, but a part of me was starting to gain some sort of attraction to him.
It was like… he wasn’t a Pastor to me… he was a childhood crush.
“Mmm yes… You’ve always been such a good boy…” He caressed my cheeks, while I felt his finger rubbing the lip of my anus.
“I’ll go and get the lube… I’ll be right back.” He kisses me on the forehead, before walking away to his room. I looked down to see my clothes on the floor, including my boxers that I had worn when it happened to me. I kept it after all this time since no matter how many times I tried to wash them, it still smelt like him…
Wait… why did I decide that this was a good idea? I mean, I knew I needed to get over it eventually, but was I doing too much?
It was a line that I didn’t know existed — at least for me anyway. I didn’t see a problem having sex with Pastor Y/N. In fact, it was my dream to have sex with him as an adult now that I know what he has done to me. Unfortunately for me, the fear and guilt came back to bite me in the ass, and now I was unsure of what would be the right choice for me. I felt like a mom nagging to myself and hating it because I had to wash the dishes.
Well, I already went this far so it would be far too late for me to give it up and go home. The least I could do would be to suck his cock and call it a day.
“Kibum, do you want to come to the bedroom?” He called me, to which I immediately complied regardless of any prior thoughts. I walked over to his room, where I saw a very neat room with a comfortable-looking bed and antique-looking pieces of furniture with fake plants around them.
“Come and sit here! I won’t hurt you!” My body began to vibrate, but was unsure whether it was a bad thing or not. But either way, I crawled over to him, with my butt facing him. I could tell it aroused him since he would open my butt cheeks so he would lick me there. Or… at least he would’ve due to my butt plug was in the way.
“I see you’re prepared for me, Kibum! Should I remove that for you?” I nodded my head quickly, and he did what he needed to do. He slowly pulled out my plug, in which I felt everything from the stretching to the rubbing on my prostate. When it was out, I could feel cold air going inside. That stopped when he put his warm fingers inside of me.
It… did feel good, and the way he was very gentle with me this time made me convinced that he might be in love with me. From the way he would lick me, to the type of treatment he was giving me. I knew that it wasn’t something that I wanted to take away from myself.
It was time for him to go inside me, and I opted to go into a missionary position so I could see him the whole time. My legs had to go all the way up to my shoulders, but it was still enjoyable. The moment he went inside, my moans started. He still felt very big inside, just like how it was before. The way he grabbed my legs when he wanted to go faster was something that was unexplainable.
“Mmm… you’re so amazing, Kibum. You’re so tight… you’ve always been tight… that amazing boy hole…” I didn’t take notice of what he said, but the way he gave me praise overpowered any outright creepy comment he might’ve said during the session.
His grunts were something I’d hear in a hentai. If anyone heard him for the first time, they would’ve assumed that he was a toxic top, when he was really a nice person who looked out for his bottoms. Meanwhile, I sounded like I was meowing. My voice may go from low to high, slow to fast, and quiet to loud very quickly. I could also be overstimulated, so curling into a ball would be something I’d do. A typical bottom.
The way he thrusts inside was something I could explain in detail. I could feel it every time he went deep, so much that we grunted at the same time. But when he goes faster, that would be when we go out of sync and I get crazier.
“Ahhh yes… your moans are so cute, Kibum…” I just love it when he says his name. It would always gives me goosebumps whenever he reminds me of my presence and how much it drives him insane.
I want this feeling to last forever, and I want it to be with him. He seemed so into me, that I forget about everything that happened before that very moment. It felt like this was a hookup date and that I met him on a gay dating app. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been on there for at least once. And even if he had sex with other boys like me, somehow he realised that I was the boy he needed.
He needed me more than anything. And I wanted him too.
“Yes…yes… I’m about to cum…” I begged him to place his manhood in my mouth, and he did just that. His white juices went all over my face while some went into my mouth.
He laid me down onto the bed, making me relax beside him. He was still cuddling me while he went soft. He kissed me on the cheek, before falling asleep. I glanced around the room like a lost child, and my sense of my mind slowly started coming back. A part of me couldn’t believe I agreed to have sex with Pastor Y/N, while at the same time, I was glad I did.
I don’t know… but I’d say that it was this strange feeling that always gets to me whenever I look back at this very moment.
Pairing: Taemin (SHINee) x OC (Story is written in 2nd person)
Genre: Explicit, angst
Word Count: 3.2k words
You can also find this story on: AO3
---
Summary:
Taemin's been so busy with his comebacks and you're annoyed at Taemin for accidentally locking Ddaeng in the bathroom all day. He doesn't take your annoyance well, but he makes up for it in the morning.
Basically, smut with a little plot.
I'm back with a one shot, finally! It's been a while since I've posted anything but here we are~.
I do not own Taemin or his cats and this is just fiction.
I've got some stories in the making that are coming along well, so I hope everyone looks forward to them🌸
I'd like to thank @skzhocomments for being my beta reader (she's got really good stories).
Please enjoy!
---
Lovesickness
Taemin’s been working so hard for his next comeback and so hard it seems as if he’s forgotten about you. You watch him as he comes back every day and chucks himself into bed and then you watch him leave in the morning after having a shower. As much as you love him, you hate being forgotten but you don’t want to get in between him and his work. It’s always been like that. And you would lose against his work anyway. It’s his life. You once asked him if he lives to work or works to live and he did not say the latter. The balance is unhealthy and his work is his priority at the moment so you just have to wait and try not to get pissed off. But you feel neglected in every way possible. You still remember his last solo comeback and the stress from it, Never Gonna Dance Again : Act 2 and then he went to the military. You were so excited for him to come back home and spend time with you. You missed him so much that it felt like hell. But SM got more of him than you have in years because then there was Hard and now there's Guilty. And you feel guilty for wanting him to stop working on it and just come and smother you in affection.
You feel stupid for not having noticed it earlier, for being so close-minded that you had observed the life of being with an idol only superficially. If you had known, then you doubt you would have rejected Taemin’s advances or his proposal anyway, but you wish you knew what you were getting yourself into from the get-go. He had a way to charm; he was cheeky and cute and his smile had this boyish charm to it. Now he’s like a brick wall, unsociable, and everything you say to him only receives one word answers. You never know if he’s actually listening to you and it frustrates you to no end.
The look Kkong gives you and the nudge of her head tells you to get out of your head and feed her. Because you may as well be the catsitter, the amount of communication you get from Taemin. So you do. You get up, grab the cat's food bowls and walk into the kitchen. As you open the cupboard, you let out a long sigh, grabbing the wet food and emptying it into the bowls. Kkong is already at your feet so you bend down and let her eat as you run your hand along her body. Ddaeng is nowhere to be seen so you call out for him and when he doesn’t come, you worry. You put the food bowl down on the side and start walking around the apartment, calling his name frantically like a lunatic. When you get to the bedroom, you hear a muffled meow from the bathroom so you open it quickly. Ddaeng is sat there looking up at you and you swear you’re going to kill Taemin. You left before him today because you had extra work to catch up on. So that means Ddaeng’s been stuck in the bathroom all day. You bend down to pick up your baby and talk to him, telling him it’s okay and then walk to the kitchen with him in your arms, popping him down on the counter and letting him eat on there. He deserves it after the day he had.
You sit back down on the sofa and turn on the TV, staring at it completely immersed in thought and you just can’t believe Taemin had locked Ddaeng in the bathroom. You stew on it and get angrier and angrier, minutes of stewing turn into hours and during that time, Kkong and Ddaeng come and busy themselves in your lap. The sound of the door pin being inserted and the door opening catches your attention. Taemin comes in silence and ignores you, walking straight to the bedroom after he changed his shoes to slippers.
You turn off the TV and grab both cats, one under each arm, earning a squeak from Kkong, which you are quick to apologise for. Taemin is already face planted on the bed, clothes unchanged: messy hair, which is now brown and long, one slipper hanging on for its dear life, a white wrinkled t-shirt with sweat stains from dancing, and grey joggers—joggers that left nothing to the imagination—and you just couldn’t help but stare and then tell yourself off for thinking things that were so not appropriate for your mood.
Blinking in disbelief, you walk over to the bed and sit down, letting the babies free as they prance over to Taemin. You can’t help but call them traitors in your head.
“Taemin?” you say, trying to take the edge off your voice.
He lifts his head only slightly before making a grunt and lazily stretching his hand out to pet the cat. You smile, hoping the lingering side-eye you give him warns of best behaviour. “Ddaeng was stuck in the bathroom all day.” You tell him, trying to swallow down the venom that is coating your tongue.
“Why?”
Inexplicable fury blooms in your chest. "YOU—" You need to calm down if you want this conversion to go anywhere. “You trapped him in there. I know you don’t care about me, but you could at least care about the cats!”
He sighs. “He’s fine, though.” Taemin's apathetic behaviour irritates you and a scream is threatening to come out, clawing its way up your throat. You hold it in and put your head in your hands at wit’s ends.
"Still, you need to be responsible. He’s a cat, not a human. If he’s stuck, he can’t get out, and he could have hurt himself trying.” You say reproachfully, stuck on the fact that he won’t just say sorry and that he won’t do it again.
Taemin sits up suddenly and shoots you a glare, brat, and he walks off to the bathroom. You hear him turn on the water and brush his teeth and you can’t get over the fact that he just walked off and glared at you. Taemin has always been like this; he always sulks when being told off and never takes responsibility for his actions. At first, you thought it was cute. He’d pout and pout and wrinkle his nose until you let it go without an apology. But you got sick of it soon because he wouldn’t let it go if it was the other way around. Whatever, you also need to brush your teeth, so you follow, and when you get in the bathroom, you open your mouth to tell him to give your tooth brush, but he cuts you off, starting harshly, “Stop going on about it. I just want to go to sleep. Just-ease up.” ending tiredly.
So you say nothing and somehow your heart clenches and you feel it throbbing. through your body resonating in your chest and you think you heard it crack. No, it is just the toothpaste lid. Taemin’s gotten your tooth brush and put a pea of toothpaste on it. He shoves it into your hand and you start brushing your teeth mechanically, like a robot. But, even after brushing your teeth, you still have a bitter taste lingering in your mouth.
When you’re both done, neither of you speak and you both get into bed, turning away from each other like a brick wall has been put up. It fucking hurts. It hurts more to cry. More, because Taemin knows. He can hear each breath as it's hiccuped out of your chest, and if you tried to hold it, he’d listen to your silence instead, and in the end, maybe you would explode all over him. You can’t hold this in forever. You can’t feel neglected forever and never say anything; maybe you’re just being dramatic. But still, it hurts.
~
In the morning, you’re woken up by lazy, clumsy kisses peppered all over your face. You barely open your eyes, squinting at the light coming through the bedroom window. You squirm and try to turn over, still upset over last night but Taemin’s hand on your waist stops you and pulls a squeak out of your mouth and you’re slammed back on your back after not getting very far out at all. He pushes himself up against your side, flush against you, and you can feel him.
His peppered kisses turn into sloppy, wet, open-mouthed ones, trailing down your neck as his hand carefully pulls up your top and trails his hand over your stomach, humming into your neck in delight. Your body is flushing hot with arousal; you have missed Taemin. Every part of him—his virility, his soft lips, and his dick. It has been so long; you felt like a nun living in celibacy.
He nibbles lightly on the skin of your collarbone before licking a stripe up your neck and nibbling on your ear. His hand travels down to your heat and he chuckles and takes his hand out of the equation. “Wet already? Did you dream of me.” Smug and confident, he whispered it in your ear. And you can’t speak completely under his spell, heart pounding, with no coherent sentences ready to be formed.
When he finally detaches from your neck, he’s on his next conquest, mouthing all around your breasts, sucking, and biting, and you find it hard to stay still. You squirm and writhe but he holds you still, hands on your hips so brusingly tight. He looks up, lust and hunger in his gaze and smirks. He finds it so funny. Taemin loves teasing you; he treats it like a sport when he can. He gets back to work and lays his tongue flat on your nipple, licking a line and then twirling his tongue around it, his teeth barely nipping. And you whine, jutting your hips up, wanting some release for your core—something to fill you up hot and heavy.
Taemin bathes in the sounds you make; he loves hearing them so he rewards you with a kiss so soft compared to the grip he has on you and you want more; you need to feel that connection. You wonder if you’re the only one whos been sexually frustrated because somehow Taemin is fine apart from his throbbing boner, hot and hard on the side of your thigh, a type of self-control that is inexplicable. You cry out, wanting more of his lips on yours so you reach for his long hair and yank it slightly, unsure if he’d like it. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets out a low growl and his pupils expand. You marvel in amazement.
“So needy,” Taemin tutted and bent down, nipping on your bottom lip and dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips and you relish in his mouth, nibbling and sucking on his top lip and letting out a deep, content breath out of your nose. Your fingers slide in deeper, tangling in his soft, messy hair, surrounding them in his hair and jerking lightly, making the erection between his legs throb against your thigh. You feel like you are in a daze, eyes closed, lips moving lazily against Taemin’s.
Taemin moves away from the kiss and slides his hand into your pyjama shorts and he slowly circles around your clit, sending white heat all over. You move your hands from his hair and grab Taemin's shirt; you know not to interrupt his teasing, your hands twisted up and twisting up further in the white cloth as he uses his other hand to fill your mouth with his fingers, making you moan and your eyes roll back. Taemin loves watching you; he loves voyeurism; he gets off on it; he loves videoing, making sex tapes only to watch them over and over on tour, getting lost in your sounds, face, and body. He once told you that you’re face was perfect for porn. You were offended at first but he explained that you look ethereal while he’s ploughing you in.
Taemin dips his fingers down and teases your hole, dipping in and out of it as you nibble on his finger, wanting him to speed up. But he didn't; instead, he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, pressing on the back of your tongue, making you gag, and pulling a deep breathy chuckle from Taemin’s lips. “Calm down,” he demands, with a smile playing on his lips. He is so cruel, but you can’t lie and say it doesn’t get you off. He slips his finger into your hole, finding that spongy flesh and fingering in and out, hitting the right spot over and over as his thumb rubs circles around your clit. Then another finger inside you, in and out.
“Please,” you beg, pulling Taemin’s top over his head and losing him for a second. He smirks at you and pulls his boxers off.
Before you knew what was going on, Taemin had pulled his fingers out, pulled your shorts off, and grabbed your hips as he bent your legs and as he settled down into you, a string of curses and a deep grunt fell out of his mouth as he closed his eyes for a second, letting the feeling take over his body. The feeling was almost too intense, electricity sprialing from your feet to your head, your thoughts clouded, and your pussy desperately begging for some movement as you clenched around him. Taemin seemed to know what you wanted, his hips rolling in one swift motion, thighs pressing against your arse, and his short fingernails lightly scratching over your skin as his fingers dug in.
“I missed you,” Taemin groaned lowly as you gaze at his dick, appearing and disappearing inside of you again and again, the view being the most pleasurable thing you have seen in a while. You have spent so much time watching porn in the past few months that you feel overwhelmed to see a real dick going in and out of you, toes curling into the sheets as you try to not cum straight away.
“You too,” you manage to mumble in a half moan, voice trembling, hands clawing Taemin’s back as you want him deeper inside you. Taemin tries not to let you have your way, but seeing you move so sensually, lifting your hips to try and get him in deeper, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, eyes hazy and glazed, and strands of hair falling into your face and sticking slightly as small beads of sweat have started forming at your hairline. It makes it hard for him to keep the pace slow.
You have to admit that the sight of Taemin is very appealing—the best view you ever had the honour of seeing. His back feels very soft and taut beneath your palms, making you want to continue touching him, explore the lines of muscles and relearn his body all over again.
“You said I don’t care about you. Do you feel cared for now?” Taemin teases as he takes his dick out of you and before you can whine, he pushes his dick back into your entrance and snaps his hips into you suddenly making you breathless and sending prickles of heat through your body. You run your tongue over your body lip, feeling dry from marvelling up at Taemin because he looks so good right now—golden skin droplets of sweat falling down his face, beautifully catching at his philtrum, making you want to lick it. Such a strong carnal urge takes over you as you grab the back of his head and pull him down into a kiss, not wanting to listen to him talk any more.
Taemin lifts your legs up to his shoulders, making an amazing deepness hitting that spot over and over again. The angle is nearly too much for you, as Taemin leans from the kiss and starts playing with your clit, making you clench around him and earning a groan, sending you off a cliff. You can feel Taemin’s weight inside you; his thrusts are getting more intense and sharp, building up, pushing you down into the mattress; the pressure inside you is building up and the muscles in your abdomen are contracting. Your brain is not functioning fully under the influence of arousal and Taemin. You can feel your orgasm about to come crashing, heart pounding insanely in your chest, feeling like it was about to crack a rib.
Your head lolling back, eyes closed so you don’t have to see how erotic Taemin looks, and your spine arching, welcoming Taemin in deeper as the pressure builds up, coiling, and you’re so close, heavily panting, your nails scratching at his back as you try and take the pounding.
Taemin’s groans and teasing words rolling like waves straight to your core, as he speeds up faster chasing his own orgasm, you take your hands and grab the sheets as he’s pounding you up the bed and white stars flashed behind your eyes as you came undone. Taemin’s relentless pounding didn’t stop; instead, he groans as you tighten and spasm under him, letting out helpless cries and he rides you out on your orgasm. “Look at me,” he instructs, his voice so gruff and demanding that you can’t help but oblige. He whispers dirty, sweet nothings, and then his orgasm hits him hard as his body tenses up, mouth parted open, moans falling out, and his forehead creases, making him look so beautiful and fucked out as sweat drips down his golden chest and his slightly pink face glows in the sun that is cascading through the window.
He clings to you, laboured breaths hitting your lips, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes so glassy as he looks into your eyes lovingly. “I love you,” he laughs lowly and pulls you towards him, his tongue slowly licking along your bottom lip and then giving you a proper kiss. The kiss is sweet. Taemin places his hand on your cheek as he pulls himself out, sending shivers down your spine and pulling staggered moans from him.
He lays down next to you and pulls your head to play on his chest as you listen to his heart pounding. You look up at him. “I love you too, but what was that for?” you ask cheekily.
“I’m sorry for being a dick; you know what I get like during a comeback but it doesn’t mean you should get used to it. I’ll try and get better, more tolerable, and treat you better. Also, where is your engagement ring?” He apologises and stokes strands of hair out of your face.
“Your maid took it off while cleaning,” You tell him, insinuating that you are his maid, which, he doesn’t find funny. He pouts so you press up on one of your hands to get closer to his face and press a soft kiss to his lips as you say, “I hope you do. What time is it, by the way?”
He stretches his arm out and grabs his phone, checking the time: “five-forty-five.”
Your eyes pop out of your head as you moan, “I could have been sleeping; why’d you get me up so early?"
“You weren’t moaning about the time ten minutes ago," he tells you and you can't help but laugh at him and snuggle into his chest as he strokes your hair.
Enchanted [T/S] - 0.0k - House-sitting for your uncle takes a deadly turn the night of a blood moon. Your only hope lies in the hands of a stranger who isn’t what he seems.🎃
Page 156 [F]
Headcanons
Turn Ons & Kinks [S]
"The most beautiful thing in all the world is right now. This moment. You. Don’t ever forget that." ~Jonghyun (banner by @classicscreations, thank you indi! 🥹)
Genre: 18+, established relationship, idol!AU, smut, angst, and fluff.
Warnings: This story will contain descriptions of drug usage and alcohol consumption, as well as discussions of addiction and mentions of overdose. It also will contain discussions of mental health issues and it’s effects.
Also, Jimin’s personality, as well as the dynamic between the members of Bangtan, is extremely different in this story (i.e: not that postive) from the one they have shown us in real life. PLEASE, if ANY of this will be triggering for you or if you simply do not like it, DO NOT READ!
Kamaria Jacobs, also known by her Korean name Choi Minali, is an insanely successful idol/actress, the daughter of one of the most legendary female Kpop artists and an extremely influential black hip hop artist from America. After beginning her own career at the age of 18, she spent the two years after that building her reputation and becoming known for her amazing vocals and songwriting.
When Kamaria was asked to star in Park Jimin’s debut solo music video, she readily agreed since she knew it would be a great career move but she had no idea the bond that would form between the two of them. Over the next 8 years, their relationship went from friends to lovers to soulmates; until it all came crashing down and Jimin married another woman.
In an attempt to move on with her life, Kamaria cut off all contact with Jimin and focused on her career. However, as always, Jimin pops back up into her life with an extremely unusual request and she’s left to not only decide if agreeing to his request is worth keeping him in her life but if she even wants him in her life after everything that has happened in the past.
Chapter 1: “I’ve Missed You, Bubs.”
Chapter 2: “Gotta do what I gotta do.”
Chapter 3: Maybe what she thought they had shared wasn’t real.
