tags: lee taemin x fem!reader // dom!reader x sub!taemin, smut, dom and sub dynamics, handjob, established relationship, begging, lots of kisses, light pain kink, subspace, power play, slight dacryphila, bondage, blindfold, lots of teasing, mommy kink, soft and cute ending
You gently open the door to your shared bedroom.
Everything is right as you left it. The room is dimly lit with the only source of light being the cozy warm led lights from under your bed and a few candles scattered around on the bedside table. You can still slightly smell the vanilla scent from your perfume. The bed doesn’t have sheets, as you thought it would be more convinient for them to be on the floor.
You shift your thoughts onto the king size bed in the middle of the room. On it, you see your greatest piece of art you’ve ever seen. Taemin is on his knees, legs wide open, with a white satin ribbon covering his eyes to act as a blindfold. His hands are tied up and placed over his head, while also being tied to the bedframe. Safe to say, you did the knots so nicely, he cannot move his hands and arms, so they wont get in your way. He is shirtless, with only a white ribbon around his neck, that has a little silver heart dangling from it. He also has on white, semi-skinny pants, that you’ll be taking off soon enough. You can see a slight bulge forming in his pants and his breath quickening as he hears you in the room. He tries to look at you, but the blindfold in unabling him to do so.
You stand in the doorway and watch him squirm and wiggle in his restraints, and you can’t help but chuckle at how needy he is. Earlier today, you were at the set of the music video making of „Famous”. When he was shooting the opening scene, he was tied by his hands up to the ceiling and the idea of this, has been planted in your head ever since. 30 minutes ago you prepared everything: tied him up, made sure he was comfortable with this, get him riled up and then left the room. You felt the need to tease him a bit, so he has been waiting for you in that room awaiting his fate, unable to touch himself or even move. Now, he is just a whimpering mess, unable to do anything, and that’s what makes this so fucking hot. You decided that it’s enough teasing for him and make your way over to the bed.
You’re dressed in a white, satin nightgown, matching him. It’s the one that goes only to the half of your thighs and making everything visible, when the angle is right. It drives him absolutely crazy.
You finally stand before the bed, before climbing onto it. He can sense you getting closer and he starts to wiggle even more, while whimpering something unaudible. Sitting before him, you finally grip his thighs and say in a low tone, not to startle him.
- Stop wiggling so much, youre okay. -you comfort him before whispering in his ear:
-Mmh… someone is needy for mommy, huh? – you chuckle lowly into his ear.
In response, you get a surprised gasp at the nickname you gave yourself, before him blushing so so so much and mumbling:
- Yes… yes, please… ah! Touch me, im begging you… I’ve been waiting so long… -you can hear how desperate he is.
You run your hand through his hair and then let it rest on his cheek, while you use the second one to drag your nail from his chin to the hem of his pants in a straight line through his body. He lets out a slutty moan and whimper from the little pain your action gave him. You hook your finger around his choker and pull him closer to kiss him. You swirl your tounge around his plush lips and ask for entry, which he greedily accepts. The kiss is getting more heated and you tug at his hair. When you two finally unstick yourself from eachother with a string of saliva still connecting you two, you start making your way down his body with sloppy kisses. You start at his earlobe, nibbling at it a little, which earns you another groan coming from him. Then, you go down and make a small hickey near his collarbone, which of course, he loves. You go down his chest and stop at the nipples. You take one of them into your mouth, swirling your tounge around the sensitive bud and take the second one between your fingers and pinch.
-Ahh!...ugh…please, more… -Taemin pants out. You can clearly see how hard he is. It almost looks painful. You decide to not waste any more time and swiftly take off his pants. There’s a big patch of precum on his boxers.
-You’re already this wet… all for me, pretty boy? -you say grinning at him.
-Yes mommy… all for you, i’m all yours… -you respond to him with a slap of his boxers waistband against his skin.
-Please fuck me already… I-I cant take it anymore…-he says with a shaky voice.
-Shh, baby… Let me take care of you already, hm? You’ve been such a good, patient boy. You deserve it. -you smirk and take off his boxers in a swift motion.
-C-can i please see you?
-Of course, sweetheart -you say softly.
You begin to untie the ribbon on his eyes and throw it across the room. He blinks a lot, looking around the room trying to take it all in, when he shifts his gaze to land on you. His breath hitches at the sight of you wearing his favourite piece of clothing and you chuckle. You remember you blindfolded him before he could see the setting of the room, so he had no idea you prepared all of the candles and lights.
As he’s still in awe, you snake your hand down to his dick and spread the precum all over it, acting as lube. You wrap your fingers around his lenght, placing your thumb over his slit and running it across agonizingly slow. He lets out a cry and you can see his glossy eyes watering from need. You finally began to lazily stroke his dick, causing Taemin’s hips to buck into your hand. You detach your hand leaving him panting and whining.
- Stop moving, or I won’t let you cum tonight. -You say with a stern tone.
You don’t let him finish his words before resuming your actions. Your speed increased with every moan coming from Taemin’s lips. He is now a moaning and mumbling mess. You look into his eyes with a look full of lust. When he feels you staring, he starts to now wiggle even more in his restraints now, and you can feel he’s close. Your free hand snakes up his torso and starts playing with his nipple, which you know drives him absolutely crazy.
-Oh fuck… [name] please don’t stop… ngh! I- I’m so close. -he whines and start to mumble praises.
You chuckle lowly and with your hands busy, you kiss him deeply. After a while, you detach yourself from his lips, just to make a hickey on his neck. It seems like it was his breaking point, because seconds later, he was coming with a loud moan of your name. He released himself all over his stomach and you gently make him come down from his high and try not to overstimulate him. Pretty, teary eyes looking at you like you were the Godess of love herself, reincarnated. Finally, you detach yourself from him and untie his hands from the bed. Next, you lay him down on a pillow and get a warm, soaked in water towel to clean him up. While you’re doing that you, ask him sweetly:
- Are you okay, baby? Was I too harsh?
While having his eyes closed, he responds:
-No sweetheart, you were perfect. -he smiles and then looks at you, looking like an angel with the afterglow.
You cannot resist and you climb over him just to place gentle and pure kisses all over his face. Once you finish cleaning him up and also the place, which consisted of you blowing out the candles and getting the sheets from the chair in the room, you turn off the lights and lay down next to him to cuddle. He gently puts the sheets over you two and places his arm around your waist while you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. You both drifted to sleep pretty quickly, and all happy about the night, that you’ll definietly never forget.
note from author: this is my first ever fic guys! and im so happy with how it turned out. I have another taemin oneshot in mind and im working on it right now lol i will post it soon (its also sub taemin 😈). Sorry if theres any mistakes, english is not my first language 😔.
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a look back at yours and taemin's relationship over the years- from being young rookies in the industry keeping your relationship hidden, to being the industry's favorite couple
pairing. lee taemin x reader genre. fluff warnings. n/a word count. 402 note. short and sweet! hope you like! tysm for requesting :)
You met Taemin during the album release party for his first solo album. you didn't know much about him, but since you were both under SM entertainment at the time, and his group was notably more popular than yours, your management convinced you to go. Somehow, you and Taemin ended up getting shoved into a photoboth together- a move from your manager in an attempt to get you and your group some exposure.
But despite the awkward situation, you and Taemin actually hit it off almost instantly. He was actually just your type- a little offbeat, his personality separating him from the rest, with big brown eyes and a gorgeous smile, you were instantly a goner.
You kept your relationship a secret for a while, a decision ultimately made by your fear of getting harassed by crazy "fans". But it made things more fun in the beginnings stages; the sneaking around SM headquarters, stealing kisses behind closed doors, donning disguises to attend each others shows.
You wish you could say that the relationship becoming public was a gradual thing- maybe a few leaked pictures, spottings at each others shows, smiling a bit too much when the other wins an award- but no. It happened during an interview a few years into your relationship. Taemin was doing a solo interview while promoting Shinee's 1of1 album when the interviewer asked if he was in a relationship. Normally, Taemin would say no, his minimal media training working for him. But through a stupid slip of the tongue, he said "yes."
The whole industry was turned on its head after that simple word. The fans went insane online (and in person, they practically mobbed the SM building), both of your management teams working double time to try and figure out a solution. In the end, they decided honesty is the best policy, and you and Taemin confirmed your relationship two days later.
Fast forward to today, after a decade of love, several collabs, a few breakup rumors, and multiple awards dedicated to each other, you're still going strong. Despite the many people that said it wouldn't work, the media starting rumors, the hate trains on Twitter- none of that mattered.
You went from young rookies running around trying to keep your relationship hidden from the world, to two confident successful veterans proudly displaying your love. No matter the circumstance, you and Taemin were in it forever...
The second you say it—“이거 뭐야?”—and look up at me with that mix of bravado and fear, something settles in my chest like a lock clicking shut.
“Baby…” I slide my hand to your jaw, warm and steady. “You’re my girlfriend. 내 여자.” I don’t blink when I say it. I don’t hedge. “No guessing. No maybe. I’m here.”
You try to turn it into a joke, because that’s what you always do when you’re overwhelmed with a big feeling, but I don’t let you run from it. Not this time. My thumb drags across your lower lip, slow. “Say it back,” I murmur, eyes on yours. “Then I’ll kiss you.”
You swallow, tiny nod. “Your girlfriend.” That’s it. The gravity changes in the room.
I kiss you like a promise—and like a problem I don’t want to solve. Gentle first, then deeper when you sigh into my mouth. Your fingers curl in my shirt and I pull you into my lap like you belong there (you do). The world outside the curtains—neighbourhood noise, a distant bus —goes fuzzy. I can feel your heartbeat through your chest to mine, rabbit-fast, and it sends a shot of pride through me so hard I have to laugh against your sweet lips. “Look at you,” I whisper. “My girl. My y/n.“
You whisper, “탬,” and my control thins to silk. “Don’t,” I breathe, forehead pressed to yours, smile wrecked. “Say my name like that and I won’t stop.”
I don’t stop anyway. Why would I?
I kiss you the way I dance—tempo shifts, control, then the slip. Mouth to mouth, then I angle to your cheek, your jaw, the hollow just under your ear that makes your breath catch. “여기 좋아해?” (You like it here?) You nod, a little gasp, and I file it away: cartography of you, y/n. You like it when I grab your waist. You melt when I slide a hand up your spine. You go quiet when I kiss the soft place under your ear, and you claw at me (God, yes) when I mouth the side of your throat. “Hickeys?” I murmur, smile curving. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” you breathe, small and dangerous. “Good girl.” I keep it tasteful—slow, claiming, not too dark—and then I kiss where I’ve marked, soothing. “Mine,” I tell your soft skin, not because I need to hear it, but because maybe you do. “내 사람.”
You’re shy to dance with me, always, even though you love to dance—so I don’t ask. I just put on a slow song (yeah, “1 of 1” is queued next, because of course) and stand, keeping your small hands in mine, pulling you up into me. “No choreography,” I say, mouth against your temple. “Just this. Just us.“ We sway in my living room, your cheek under my chin, my palm sliding lazy circles at the small of your back. I feel you unclench minute by minute, your shoulders dropping, your breath syncing with mine. “You feel that?” I whisper. “That’s us. No shoe dropping. Just us.”
You tip your head back to look at me and I’m a goner. I kiss you again, slower now, like I’m sipping something expensive. When you smile into my mouth, I lose the plot and laugh. “누나… 진짜 미치겠다.” (Noona… I’m actually going crazy.) I mean it like worship.
I make you ginger tea in the kitchen without letting go for long—my fingers never leave your hip, your wrist, the hem of your shirt, like I have to keep you tethered. You sit on the counter, legs open, and I step between them, bracing one hand on the cupboard, the other around your waist. You’re watching me, eyes soft, and the urge to take care of you hits hard. “Had dinner?” I ask. You shake your head. I’m already on it—garlic, eggs, rice, quick and warm. “Not your nationality‘s treasure, but chef’s kiss,” I tease, feeding you the first bite with the chopsticks. You roll your eyes, pretending not to be charmed, but you take the bite and hum, and now I’m grinning like an idiot because your happy sounds are my new drug. “Better than being cool,” I say when you catch me smiling. “I’d rather be yours.”
On the couch again, I tuck my hair behind my ear—your “Korean long” comment lives rent-free in my head—let you card your fingers through it. You always do when you’re half-shy, half-feral. “Touch me,” I murmur, guiding your hand to the nape of my neck. “Like that.” Your nails scrape lightly and I shiver, eyes closing. “Christ, y/n.” I open them again because I want to see your face when I say this next part. “I know your past. I heard you. I’m not leaving. Stop looking for the exit when I’m trying to walk in.”
You go quiet, but the kind of quiet that means you’re listening. So I keep going, softer. “You think you’re hard to love.” I kiss the slope of your cheek. “But all I know how to do is want you.” Another kiss at your jaw. “Want you when you’re loud, when you’re quiet, when your stubborn Virgo-brain is manifesting the moon.” A smile against your skin. “I’ve been eating grapes under tables for years and didn’t even know why.” (You laugh, that snort you do when you’re trying not to, and I beam like I won something important.) “Turns out it was you.”
You pull me closer and I don’t make you say thank you with words. I let you say it with your mouth. I kiss you until you stop bracing for goodbye.
We drift toward the bedroom because gravity says so. Not rushed. I keep checking your eyes, your breath, your yes. I’m a menace, yeah—but I’m careful with what I care about. At the edge of the bed, I pause and tip your chin up with one finger. “Color?” I ask softly. (You roll your eyes at me, but the way you relax says it lands.) “Blue,” you whisper, and then you’re pulling me down.
What happens next isn’t a movie montage. It’s two people learning each other. It’s my mouth finding the places that make your back arch, and your hands finding the places that make my breath stutter. It’s me worshiping your tummy—yes, the one you say you hate—kissing it slow, telling you, “이 부분… 내가 제일 좋아해.” (This part… I like it the most.) It’s you going quiet and a little wet-eyed for a second, and me kissing that expression away. It’s your pretty eyes blowing wide when I tell you, plain and honest, “You’re exactly my type,” and then prove it with patience and a little menace, the kind that makes you gasp my name and clutch at the sheets. It’s the kind of heat that feels like home, where I don’t have to posture and you don’t have to pretend.
After, I do the small things that say more than speeches. Warm cloth. Water. My hoodie—“territorial behavior,” you accuse, smiling, as you tug it on; I shrug, unashamed. “Facts.” I press a kiss to your temple. You burrow into me, thigh over mine, your hand on my chest like you’re testing if I’m still there. I am. I always am.
You’re not a morning person. So I set your alarm, then set another for me two minutes earlier so I can wake you with kisses instead of a siren. I put water on the nightstand and a note under the glass where you’ll find it: No more ‘what are we.’ We are. A stupid little heart because I’m younger and cocky enough to get away with it. When you roll, half-asleep, to hide your face in my neck, I whisper, “내 사람.” (My person.) You answer in your drowsy native tongue that melts my spine and I have to bite my lip like a teenager.
Sometime around 3 a.m., you stir, the old fear flickering across your face like a shadow of a bad dream. I feel it happen. I always do. My hand rubs slow circles on your back, my mouth finds your hairline. “Shh,” I murmur. “I’m not a ghost. I don’t disappear.” You breathe out, long and shaky, and I press your palm to my heartbeat. “See? Still here.”
Morning in our city is grey-blue and soft. I slip out just long enough to grind beans, make your coffee exactly the way you like it, leave it where your hand will find it before your eyes fully open. I crawl back under the covers, cold hands on your warm waist, and you squeal, smacking my shoulder. I take the hit, laughing, and then I’m kissing you good morning like I promised—sweet, unhurried, plenty. “좋은 아침, girlfriend,” I murmur into your smile.
You squint at me. “We’re really doing this?”
I tip my head, pretend to think. Then I nod like a judge. “Yes. Sentence: unlimited kisses, public hand-holding, me singing badly in your kitchen, jealousy rights when men stare too long, and…” I lean in, drop my voice. “The right to tell me when you need gentler, and the right to demand when you want rougher.” Your eyes spark; I kiss the corner. “All appeals denied.”
You tug me close by the hoodie strings and kiss me like you mean it. I groan, happy and gone. “Look what you did,” I complain softly, but I’m already rolling over you, bracing on my forearms, hair falling around us like a curtain. Your fingers push it back, and I swear I could live in this exact moment forever.
We spend the day the way new lovers do when the question mark is gone and the exhale finally arrives. We walk along the river with your hand in my pocket and mine around your waist because I like you tucked into me. You point out dogs; I point out sunlight in your hair. You make fun of my playlist until I put on the exact song you were going to request and pretend it was your idea. We read horoscopes at a café; I scoff at mine and take yours dead seriously. We plan trips we haven’t booked and dinners we haven’t cooked. At crosswalks, I press kisses into your hair; in shop windows, I watch you watching yourself and mutter, “우와… 진짜 예쁘다,” (wow… you’re really beautiful) like it’s new information every time.
And every time that old doubt tries to creep in—when a car door slams too loud, or your phone lights up and you hesitate like you’re bracing—I’m there. A hand on your lower back. A look that says I see you. A kiss you feel in your knees. “No exits,” I remind you, grinning. “I’m already inside.”
That night, when we’re back at my place and you curl into me on the couch, I pull a folded page from the coffee table and slide it into your hand. It’s messy, written between dance drills and thoughts of you:
We are.
You asked me what this is. It’s me waking up and wanting your face before sunlight. It’s me dancing better because you exist. It’s me worshiping the tummy you think I shouldn’t love and loving it more out of spite. It’s me learning your native pet names and your favorite noodles and the exact pressure to put on your hips when you’ve had a day. It’s you, all of you. It’s home.
You read it, then look at me like I hung the moon, and I have to hide my face in your neck because I’m younger and pathetic for you. You laugh, that bright sound, and tug my hair. “Come here,” you say, and I do, because there’s nowhere else I’m ever going.
Later, in the dark, I trace the outline of your lips with my thumb and whisper the truest thing I know in both languages, so there’s no way you can miss it. “You’re my only one. 진짜 1 of 1.” You smile without opening your eyes, say, “I know,” and tuck your cold toes under my calf like you own me.
You do.
And when sleep finally takes you, I stay awake a little longer, kissing your forehead, memorizing the peace on your face, thinking how insane it is that a man can pray for something his whole life without a name for it—and then one night in a club, there you are, laughing like trouble, tasting like forever, asking me a question I get to answer every day:
Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.
Wattpad | AO3
Chapter 2
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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.
warnings: none? idk?, lowkey sexual tension, suggestive themes, mention of Jonghyun for those who still have a hard time 🫂
author's note: this is over a year old??? I finally gave it the finishing touches. thanks to those of you who give feedback!!
Minho. Minho. Minho. The insufferable and sturdy himbo. Ah, that fucker.
Minho who loves toning up that already cut body, loves reminding you that you're beautiful whether you exercise or not, and eagerly chases off guys that don't pass his vibe check.
"As a man, I can smell the bullshit a mile off. If you want me to beat a dude's ass, just say so."
You feel protected in a way.
Minho, a thirty-one year old gym rat roommate who is somehow the best roommate you've ever had and he has no intentions on moving until you tell him to because why would he? Your shared apartment is just close enough to the nightlife of the city to keep the both of you busy, he's five train stops from his job, three train stops from the grocery store, and then there's you getting home most nights before he does.
Are you actually waiting for Minho? No. He's your roommate.
Do you pretend you're waiting for Minho? Well... who wouldn't?
He's kind and he's gentle. He always brings you home a treat from the bakery across the street from where he works and he helps you cook dinner most nights if he's home on time.
He's touchy. Unintentionally so but a beefy man with no concept of personal space by any other name is still a beefy man with no concept of personal space.
That's why he's so insufferable. That's the only reason why he's so insufferable.
Whether it's the way he hovers close behind you when you're both in the kitchen trying to read a new recipe on your phone or the way he stops you at the door each morning, hands pressed against the walls on either side of you to trap you between his arms and asks you if you have everything you need for the day; he stirs you up and fucks with your head and it's all the worst because he doesn't even mean to.
That feeling of his warm body pressed against yours drives you crazy.
It drives you insane.
He's so obviously husband coded and blunt yet soft with you. It sends you into a spiral daily and you utilize that alone time before he gets home from work whenever you can.
Touching yourself and saying his name felt wrong at first but now it's second nature to you and his name tumbles out of your mouth so effortlessly when you climax.
It's all parasocial to say the least.
"That guy... Toby? Whatever his name is. Yeah... I told him I'm your husband. I don't like him," Minho says as he comes up beside as you sit at the kitchen table and leans down to look at you.
You snort, "My husband? That's new."
Minho sits in the chair beside you and reaches down to grip your seat at the edge and he pull you closer before plucking your book from your hands, "What book is this?"
You don't answer him. The pulling of the chair is a lot for you to process.
"Everything I Never Told You..." Minho mumbles to himself, "Oh... You finished the last book I brought home?"
"Yeah. Made me cry too much but I got through it," You reply.
Minho is somewhat different from when he first moved in. He moved from Korea and didn't speak much English but he was sincere in everything. He would always make extra food and knock on your bedroom door to share with you.
It made him happy to watch you eat.
"Don't hide from me so much... all of my friends are back in Korea. Just because we're roommates doesn't mean we can't be friends too, right?" he told you one night.
That was the beginning of your friendship. It was the easiest thing in the world to cook and eat together so you did. He promised you that you'd like him better once you two were able to communicate more comfortably and he was right. You learned some Korean here and there but it was hard. He was always patient with you and of course he was right; you like him a lot now that you both can communicate.
Now as you sit and watch his eyes scan over the pages of your book, Minho smiles then glances at you, "Let me know when you're done with this one, I wanna read it too."
You nod as he gently eases the book back into your hand.
"Honey," he hums softly. He means nothing by it- you're sure he never has and you've trained yourself to keep yourself together instead of falling apart at the way he sounds when he says that to you.
"Yes?" You whisper.
"I ordered pizza because let's be honest, it's not a cooking type of night and I grabbed wine on the way in so we can just... not do anything," Minho sighs as he leans back in his seat. His leg casually nudges yours and you swallow hard.
"That sounds good. I was getting hungry anyway. Thank you, Minho," You say as you close your book and smile at him.
He shrugs.
It's his signature I-know-I'm-the-man-so-you-don't-have-to-tell-me sort of shrug. He's not a jerk about it but he knows his worth. His ego is as big as his heart so it cancels out the nausea most men give you. He's too lovable to deter you from him. Simply put, he's good.
You stand up and set your book down on the table, "I wouldn't mind a glass of wine right now. How about you?" you ask him.
"That sounds good to me," he replies and gets up. He trails you, getting too close just as he always does.
"I can get it. Sit down," You laugh.
Three years of living with this man and he still hasn't wavered on his need to spoil you.
"You sit down," he shoots back as he grips your wrist softly, "You had a long day- You've gotta be tired."
"I didn't even work today," You chide playfully. You can't give him the satisfaction of admitting how spoiled he's made you but he already knows. He sees it in the small ways you that you express how much you need him for nearly impossible tasks like coming to get you and your friends when you're all too drunk to function in public or just simply to having his strong but gentle presence near you as you read whatever book you happen to be chipping away at for the week.
Minho stares you down and you try to wriggle free from his grasp. He laughs and squishes your cheeks with his free hand,
"So cute."
"Minho, let me get it! You do everything!"
"You weren't complaining when I carried all of the groceries upstairs last week when the elevator was out."
"This is different. You stayed late at work and I know you're tired so just chill out stop being so nice all the time. Like... go sit on the sofa and just stop doing that thing you do," You mumble peevishly.
"You sound like a wife," he laughs fondly, brown eyes twinkling as they gaze into yours.
"Yeah well do something about it," You shoot back.
You think back to the way he took all of those grocery bags up all nine flights of stairs in one go. He downplayed it by saying his stamina from working out was what saved him but all you could think about was how effortlessly he did it and how much more effortless his stamina could be.
Minho smiles softly at you, "I'll stand here all night and you know I will."
He moves his hand from your face to your neck and softly pulls you closer. Your body stiffens and you stare at him with wild eyes. You know he's feeling your pulse subtly and he smiles,
"I think you like me," he whispers softly.
Your heart hammers so hard that your ears pulse and a chill starting at the top of your head makes it journey down your body, leaving heated skin and goosebumbs in its wake. The silence is heavy and the hum of the refrigerator and footsteps from the apartment above is magnified.
"Oh... so you do like me..."
You nod and he smiles, "I like you too."
He presses his lips against yours and wakes every cell in your body. All of the fantasies and the nights of lying awake thinking about him, all the times you've watched his lips move as he playfully cursed out his friend Kibum during random catchup calls, how fondly he rolls his eyes when his hopeless romantic friend Jonghyun would ask if you two finally stopped being 'silly little cowards'. You know what peace is now.
Minho circles one arm around your waist and the other comes up to cradle the back of your head; keeping your entire body flush against his and kissing you with the same fervor he has when skins and cores your apples or when he folds your laundry.
You exhale with the sweet relief that you don't have to wonder anymore. He's never leaving and you pull back to catch a breath; finding it harder to breathe without his lips against yours. He touches your face gingerly and smiles, "We're not roommates anymore."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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.
summary: no one knew you like your best friend did... could you stand just to be friends?
fn!reader x kim jonghyun
4.2k words
rating: M - explicit (fluffy ;-;) sexual content
*ALL CONTENT IS PURELY FICTIONAL AND NON-ASSOCIATIVE WITH ANY OF SHINEE OR SM ENTERTAINMENT- PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES!*
It was hot out… really hot.
Well, it wasn’t necessarily hot outside today, but it sure felt like it; the large turtleneck around your neck made the weather seem so much hotter than it actually was. Fashion is pain, you thought to yourself as you swallowed roughly, looking around somewhere for a bottle of water. Maybe if you swallowed hard enough it would quench your thirst. (It did not) You quickly looked to your friend, making eye contact with Jonghyun next to you who smiled softly at you.
“Feeling okay?” he asked quietly into your ear as you nodded numbly, your eyes glancing around for any outlet to escape. He hummed, watching your eyes, tracking the movement around the vicinity of the area. “Are you feeling alright, Y/N?”
“I’m fine,” you said lowly, brushing off his comment. You didn’t need him worrying about you; but it would be nice, you thought. You wanted his help so badly, but you didn’t want to be so much of a burden to him. “I’m just… tired.” He furrowed his eyebrows, not taking your answer as all-around truthful, studying your demeanor.
“Do you wanna go home?” You felt his eyes on you, not turning your head and taking a deep breath. He wants to be here, you thought, we can’t just leave. You could tell that as soon as you both had arrived, he was beyond excited; you managed to snag last-minute seats that you had chosen for an outdoor concert. You always tried to look your best for him, sporting an outfit that he had told you he liked on you before, which included an oversized turtleneck.
“It’s okay,” you told him, “I promise.” The two of you always had a bit of a situationship happening: You went on dates that promptly failed every time, and Jonghyun was a little picky when it came to finding someone just right that he liked. Sometimes, the two of you would just go on “dates” as friends, knowing the other was still in the process of finding someone, but still wanting to spend some quality time together. Sure, his opinion mattered to you, but what he meant to you felt different than most of your friends… You almost wanted to impress him.
“Y/N,” he whined, moving an arm to wrap around your back and pulling you to his side, causing you to yelp. He laughed, rubbing your back gently: “Tell me if you want to go home—I won’t be offended.”
“I want to go home,” you told him, eliciting a smile from him. “There are too many people here, and this turtleneck is hot, and I am overwhelmed.” You bit the inside of your lip, feeling Jonghyun’s touch on you. He did everything he could in his being for you, but you always felt like you’d flake out when it came to things that he wanted to do; there was no way out of it.
“Why didn’t you say that?” he asked, studying your blank expression, searching for the emotion you hid down deep. His eyes were kind, and all around he was almost perfect; it broke your heart having to break off the events you had planned together. “The tickets were five dollars, c’mon… Let’s go.” You felt him help you up off of the seat, clasping your hands together as he carefully led you through the crowd of people in the audience.
“I’m sorry,” you told him as he lead you through the sea of people. He turned back at you with a large smile on his face, tugging your hand so that the two of you could make a run for it. “Jonghyun!” A laugh escaped your lips as the two of you sped through the mobbed crowd, suddenly halting at the entrance. You slammed against him, causing him to grunt in response and hold you closer.
“There are a lot of people here,” he noted, his eyes darting around, reaching his hand out to find the door. You moved your head toward him, meeting his eyes which were racing with excitement. It didn’t really matter where the two of you went— It was always fun just being together. You could feel his breath on your nose as he exhaled, out of breath from running. “Wanna get boba?” You smiled; you couldn’t help it. He was just so… pretty. And he was also your best friend, you thought to yourself as you found yourself smiling back at him.
“I love you,” you told him in response, causing him to chuckle, squeezing your hand. The actions between you two were merely platonic at best, but you really did love him. Your heart jumped as he led your hand out the door and back outside with far fewer people.
“I love you too~” He sang in a sing-songy voice, swinging your hands in between the two of you. “Hey, by the way… when we get to the shop, do you think we could talk for a bit?”
“Sure,” you said with a smile, playing along with his funny charades. He tightened his grip around you, resting your swinging arms.
“It’s nothing serious,” he said innocently, already feeling your stress from earlier still manifesting in you. It affected you physically too, and he could tell: How your body tensed up, breathing shallowed, and voice got quieter. He knew, and that’s what made him your best friend. “Don’t worry… We just haven’t been able to sit down and actually talk in a while, y’know?” He looked at your face, waiting for your response.
“Yeah,” you told him quietly. Usually, the two of you chatted lightheartedly, but was he actually trying to be serious about this? “I’m sorry, Jonghyun. I want to be able to do things that you want to do, but it’s a little too much for me sometimes; I don’t like how people look at me when we go out.” You felt his thumb rub against your hand lightly and comfortingly.
“That’s why we try new things,” he told you gently, cocking his head to the side fondly, “and when we don’t like them, we move on to try the next thing! And I got a long list of them…”
“Yes, you do,” you told him with a chuckle, the two of you sharing a glance as you smiled at each other. You loved how he made you feel like no other, and you treated him the same. As best friends.
“Look!” he called, pulling you into the shop, fruity scents soon blasting up your nose. He chatted excitedly, raising both of your hands held together to point at the menu board. He marveled at the ridiculous fruit combinations as you got lost in his warm eyes. You searched his face: He was always an open book, unlike you, which made it hard for the two of you, but Jonghyun was always prepared for something different, which is why he could make friends with anyone—including you.
–
“See, I think that’s disgusting,” you told him, pointing to his greenish, brown, sloppy drink. “What the hell is that?”
“This one,” he announced proudly, turning the cup to look at the order receipt, “is avocado coconut!” He laughed as your jaw dropped in disgust, pulling your latte boba closer to you. (It was always the safe option, and what’s worse than the unfamiliar?) Jonghyun was always up for a little bit of adventure, taking a deep breath and sucking at the straw. You watched his reaction as he tilted his head, almost chewing on the drink.
“Why are you chewing on it?” you asked in a horrified voice, your eyes widening.
“It’s got… chunks,” he said slowly, making you turn your head away in disgust as he laughed merrily. “It’s pretty bad.” He examined the smoothie that he had gotten once again, his lip upturned in disgust, and another small laugh escaping his lips. “Maybe if I keep drinking it, it’ll get better…” You watched as he drank more of it, watching his nose scrunch up.
“Oh my God,” you said, watching him drink the sludge liquid. He smiled, setting his drink down and wiping off the condensation around the drink with a napkin and then drying the table, starting to get up. The two of you headed out of the shop, sitting on the park bench just outside the shop. “Okay, what is it that you wanted to tell me?” He drew his lips into a thin line, tapping his fingers against his thighs and looking away nervously.
“I wanted to ask you something,” he started warily. You raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with his sudden anxiousness around you. The two of you were always able to be comfortable with each other, so the idea that he was nervous about you confused you. You nodded, urging him to go on, giving him a reassuring smile and he sighed, dropping his head. “Y/N, I’m having a lot of fun…”
“I am too,” you told him softly, grabbing his hand again and smiling at him, causing him to crack a smile as well. “I enjoy spending time with you.”
“Did you want to go out on a date?” he spat out suddenly, biting down on his lip at the words crashing out of his mouth, unable to keep them in any longer. “W-With me? I know you’re still on the dating apps and stuff, but…”
“I really like you,” you told him, watching his face relax a little bit. “I really do. I have for a while.”
“How long?” he asked, gawking as if he’d never expected you to say that.
“A long time,” you told him with a tired sigh and suddenly embarrassed now that this topic of conversation had come up unexpectedly. “You’re… really attractive.” The words came out breathily, almost like a whisper. “But-but it’s more than that, of course.”
Jonghyun shifted in his seat, still unable to make direct eye contact with you. “I really wanna kiss you,” he said softly, licking his dry lips out of anxiousness. You turned to him with a smile, moving your face in to leave a small peck on his lips, quickly bringing your face back with a nervous giggle. His eyes widened, his lips staying parted as he still processed what you just did.
“That wasn’t very good,” you said quietly, “I’m sorry…” He brought his hand up to your chin connecting your lips again, making you gasp in surprise. You brought a hand up to his face, fidgeting with the drink in your hand as you attempted to set it down on the bench. Jonghyun gave up on the smoothie, letting it fall to the ground to bring both of his hands up to the bottom of your head, cradling it gently. You felt yourself laugh against his lips upon hearing the drink fall to the ground.
“You dunno how long I’ve waited for this,” he mumbled quietly, tangling his fingers in your hair, causing you to smile.
“Jjong,” you complained lightly, rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks. You had to disconnect your lips from his, although enjoying the moment, he was going a lot deeper than you had ever intended he would.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, separating himself from off of you and awkwardly yanking his shirt down, “too much, too fast. I dropped my smoothie.”
“Oh, don’t pretend to be sad about it,” you teased, slapping his shoulder. He smiled mischievously, pulling you closer to his side.
–
“You have something on your shirt,” you said quietly, touching the green stain on Jonghyun’s t-shirt carefully. He had his arm around you as you both lay on the couch in his apartment, the TV playing a random show in the background. “It looks like avocado sludge.”
“Delicious,” he responded lowly with a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Great, that was a good shirt, too.”
“It’s just a white t-shirt,” you replied softly, leaning your head on his shoulder, and feeling him sigh. “You have a million of them… all identical to each other.”
“You ruined white t-shirt number fifteen out of one hundred fifty,” he complained jokingly, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “What am I gonna do?”
“You go change, and I’ll throw it in the wash,” you told him gently. He didn’t say anything for a moment before sitting up and removing the t-shirt from his torso, chucking it across the room. He laid back down, adjusting his arm around you again and grunting. “Or you can do that.”
“I’ll get to it later,” he said, spreading his legs out. “It’s warm in here.”
“Well, now it is,” you quipped, Jonghyun turning his head so your faces met. He rested a hand on the side of your face, a small smile creeping up on his lips. He moved his eyes down to your lips and back up to your eyes.
“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered. You could see his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, and his eyes became sultry, not taking them away from yours.
“Yeah,” you said. He let out a breath of relief, leaning over to connect your foreheads together. “Please… kiss me.” He brought his hands down, snaking them around your waist as he pulled you closer and met your lips. You sighed, enjoying the sensation of his hands on you, rolling your head back in pleasure, Jonghyun meeting your parted mouth. He moved his open-mouthed kisses down to your neck, eliciting a noise from you.
“More?” he spoke up, watching you nod helplessly. “Can I touch you? Where do you wanna be touched?”
“Everywhere,” you responded breathily, moving your arms around his neck and climbing on top of his lap. His hands slid up your shirt, carefully thumbing over your chest and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “Jjong… I want you…”
“You’re so beautiful,” he mused, feeling you like putty in his hands. “Be mine…” You brought your eyes down to meet his again, feeling your breathing slow down.
“What did you say?” you asked softly as he chuckled quietly. The nerves in him were no longer gone as he had you in his lap all to himself.
“Be mine,” he said again, watching your lips curl up into a smile. You nodded wordlessly, bringing your lips together again as Jonghyun slid his hands down to your thighs, stroking them softly. “Y/N… Let me make you feel good.” You rested your head back as Jonghyun laid you down on the couch. You watched as he appeared above you, feeling his soft hands wander your body aimlessly.
“Jonghyun,” you said breathlessly, earning his attention. You lifted your arms up, letting him lift your sweater above your head, leaving you both shirtless.
“So pretty,” he cooed, moving his hands up your stomach and cupping your breasts, slowly moving his fingers over them and marveling at you from above. “Wow… Will you let me help you?” His hands reached the waistband of your pants, rubbing at your waist softly. You bit your lip, nodding wordlessly as Jonghyun slowly brought down your pants to your ankles, taking them off carefully; he left you in your bra and underwear, sitting up straight to get a better look. His eyes lustfully examined your body, his honey-colored body breathing in and out carefully. He sighed, moving his hand to palm himself through his jeans at the sight of you below him, making you whine for his attention.
“Jjong,” you complained, watching his eyes flutter back open with a lazy smile.
“Sorry,” he replied softly, moving his hand from his clothed bulge down to your hips, using both his hands to stroke the inside of your thighs. “Can I move this?” His hand glided over your clothed area as you gave him a quick nod. He brought your panties down past your knees, bringing your legs up shoulder length apart and humming contently.
“Oh…” You moaned softly merely at the sight of him between your legs as he smirked cutely up at you.
“I’m goin’ in,” he whispered, making you audibly laugh, and he held your shaking legs with a grin on his face. “Just relax, okay?” You nodded, taking a deep breath and moving your hands to tangle them up in Jonghyun’s hair as he went down in between your legs. A breathy moan made its way through your parted lips as Jonghyun’s mouth met the folds along your entrance. Your breath hitched as he left little kisses along your inner thighs, hearing his voice come from under you: “Do you want me to get you off? Hm?”
“Yes,” you responded quietly, running your hands through his hair. “Please…” He smiled, trailing kisses on your thighs as he moved his fingers in to touch you.
“You’re so wet already,” he said softly, running his fingers down your folds, the slickness making a lewd noise as you shivered at his touch. He drifted his fingers up to your clit, feeling a jolt in your body as you moaned out.
“Jjong…” He smiled at your noise of satisfaction, using his finger to lazily circle your clit carefully. You felt his tongue poke out around the sides, feeling the warmth that traveled from the outskirts slowly to your entrance, making you violently twitch, involuntarily grabbing for his hair. You heard a chuckle from him as you felt his tongue enter you, using it to make circular motions inside. He gripped your thighs with his hands, watching his head go in further below you, feeling his tongue fuck you while slowly stroking your thighs.
“Shit,” he whispered as you watched his head come back up after about a minute. He removed his tongue upon feeling you clench around it, quickly shifting to his next move. “Can I?” He reached for the buckle of his belt, raising an eyebrow at you with a cute smile. You nodded feverishly, whining at the lack of warmth inside of you. “Be patient, dear…” You watched as he lowered his jeans off of his legs, leaving him in his briefs. He took a steadying breath, placing his hands on either side of your head, crawling over on top of your near-naked form. “Wow.”
“Hurry up,” you mumbled quietly, giggling when he brought his hands up to your sides to tickle you. “Jjong! S-stop!”
“Give me a moment, my dear,” he said, his eyes softening, “or I’ll tickle you more.”
“Okay!” you exclaimed, feeling his hands clasp onto yours. He smiled, lowly humming and moving to take off his boxer briefs.
“You need my fingers first?” he asked quietly, earning a small nod from you. “Okay…” He knitted his eyebrows together in concentration, resituating himself so he could have one hand cradling your head and the other at his disposal. He wiped his thumb gently over your folds, hearing your sigh of relief. His finger grazed your entrance and slowly slipped it in, earning a groan from above you. “Relax…”
“Jonghyun,” you breathed out as he hushed quietly in response. “Mm… deeper.”
“Breathe,” he told you. You took a deep breath, feeling his second finger enter shortly after. You threw your head back as he cautiously moved his fingers inside you. “Good…”
“Please,” you said softly, biting your lip roughly, which drew a little bit of blood to your bottom lip. “Just… like, fuck me already.”
“Yeah?” he affirmed quietly, meeting his warm eyes up to yours. He hummed at your anxious wiggling, desperate for some friction. “Mm… I’ll make it better, baby; don’t worry…” You bucked your hips up, feeling his fingers in and out of you slowly.
“Stop teasing me,” you said breathily, gripping the sides of the couch as you felt his fingers stir around inside you.
“All in good fun,” he replied playfully, leaning down to kiss you. You cupped your hands around his face, kissing him greedily as he maneuvered around you, taking his fingers out. He separated your lips, turning around to look over his shoulder. “Hmm…”
“What?” you said, breathing heavily. You watched as he climbed to his feet, looking around.
“Condom,” he muttered lowly, his eyes wide, scanning the room. You laughed, watching him make a run for his room while buck-naked.
“Jjong!” you called with a laugh, covering your mouth. “You’re just leaving me?”
“No!” he exclaimed, waddling back to the couch quickly. “Stop laughing!”
“It’s funny!” you told him as he playfully rolled his eyes. “You’re cute.”
“I appreciate it,” he said, lowering his head as he rested his palm next to your body, the other hand moving to rip the condom open with his teeth. You shifted in your place, the sight of him over you ripping a condom open send a jolt of nerves up your spine. “Mm… You like when I do that?”
“Maybe,” you replied stubbornly as he chuckled.
“I’ll show you something else you might like,” he said lowly, slowly rolling the condom on. He groaned loudly at the feeling, catching his lips in his teeth. A noise rippled out from his throat as he stroked himself slowly, moving his hooded eyes to yours, eliciting a shiver from you. He stroked himself while keeping his eyes on you, bucking up into his hand and letting out a choked moan.
“No teasing,” you told him, sitting up to kiss him again, bringing him down with you as you lowered onto your back again. “I need you…”
“I need you, too.” His kisses became heated and rushed, turning into open-mouthed kisses as he slid his hands under your body to lift you up. “Wanna fill you up…”
“Please,” you said breathlessly, tangling your hands in his hair as he placed open-mouth kisses wherever he could. He held his cock in his quivering hand, using it to trace the outside of your entrance; you whined in anticipation, nodding quickly, hoping he’d give you what you wanted faster.
“Good girl,” he cooed, smiling when a choked moan escaped your lips as he moved his member inside of you. The two of you were still as Jonghyun shakily moved his hands to wrap around your waist, carefully rocking in and out, each time further inside being deeper than the last.
“Jjong–” you started, earning a nod from him; he knew what you wanted. His breathing was as soft as his demeanor, using a hand to drift back down between your legs, gently stroking your clit with one of his fingers. An embarrassingly loud moan came from your mouth as he moved faster, playing with your clit and reaching down to kiss you, releasing the moan into his mouth. He smiled, using this opportunity to go harder, and speeding the pace up with his fingers.
“Look at you,” he mused, feeling you crumble underneath him completely. “You’re all mine… No one else could make you feel like this, hm?”
“Yes,” you breathed out, trying to catch your breath. You were lost in ecstasy as he pumped in and out of you quickly, and used his other hand to play with you a little.
“Couldn’t even find a date,” he whispered lowly, meeting your lips again. “No one knows how to satisfy you like I do, hm?”
“Yes, Jjong, yes.” Your fingers gripped at his hair, feeling his breathing get heavy as you felt him get faster underneath you.
“Want me to pull out?” he asked, leaning his forehead against yours. “Y/N… I’m gonna cum…”
“Me, me,” you babbled, “stay in me.” He let out a breathy laugh, holding the contact with his seductive eyes, your foreheads still connected.
“I’m… Y/N…” You nodded feverishly, using your hands in his hair to bring your faces closer. “Y/N…”
“Please,” you told him, “faster…” He obeyed, moving at an impossibly fast rate, feeling himself release inside of you. He groaned, holding your shaking body, your walls clenched around him.
“Oh my God,” he groaned, lowering his head, unable to keep eye contact with you as he came inside you, holding you in his arms. “That’s it… ride it out, baby…” You felt yourself release, shaking incessantly and moaning incoherently as he held you close to him.
“Ah…” You exhaled heavily, trying to catch your breath, connecting your foreheads together again.
“Wow,” he said lowly, a small smile creeping up on his lips. “Wow, Y/N…”
“Thank you,” you told him, causing him to chuckle and hold your face in his hands, leaning in to kiss your nose. “Only you know…”
“Only I know,” he confirmed, rubbing your cheeks carefully with his thumbs. He sighed, looking down and furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t wanna pull out…”
“Then don’t.” He tightened his lips into a straight line, a blush erupting across his face. He nodded satisfactorily, pulling you onto him as he stayed inside of you. “I feel sleepy…”
“I do too,” he responded quietly, moving his hands to run them through your hair. “It’s warm… I like it.”
“I only want you,” you told him, enjoying his warm embrace and soft, brown eyes: All yours.
“I’m yours,” he replied, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “You’re never getting rid of me.” You laughed, happier than you ever were in your life. The boy of your dreams was holding you in his arms right now, and no other feeling could ever beat this one. Not in a million years.
hi hi!! thank you all for reading, and i’m excited to announce that i’m back! a new chapter of SHINE should be up today (which includes much more jonghyun content), and you can expect updates from me on here as well as on wattpad the next few weeks. this os was a special request! thank you to all who have been submitting jjong requests! i’ve been thrilled to write them. i hope that you all stay warm this week.
A/N: To the anon that requested this. I am not good with headcanon's, so this has become a fic.
W/C: 1.4K
Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog. Minors DNI.
Warnings: Angst, break up, make up, exes to friends.
Age Warning: None for this work.
You never thought the day would come when you would run into your ex-boyfriend, Taemin, again, and never in your wildest dreams did you think you would find him on your doorstep with a sheepish smile on his lips and an apologetic look in his eyes.
“Taemin… what are you doing here?” You breathe out in shock. Your hand gripped the wooden door tightly, you could feel your hand starting to cramp up, the last memory of him that you had was of him walking out the door and leaving you behind with a broken heart about five years ago.
You clutch the knife in your hand as you slowly put your fork down on the table, you can feel your heart pinching in pain as you stare at Taemin, on the outside you look emotionless, but on the inside, you are falling apart.
“This, what we have,” He says. “It’s not working, we have been fighting for weeks about literally anything and everything, and we can’t even find a middle ground,” You had been fighting for weeks when you had tried to talk to him, but your conversations would always end in a fight, you weren’t sure what had happened, but you were tired of it as well. However, you still wanted to fight for what you had with him, you still wanted to work things out with him, but it seemed like he had given up.
“I’ve tried talking to you, Taemin,” You say. You watch him stand from his chair but keep your eyes straight ahead. “But you keep blowing up on me, you don’t want to tell me why, don’t you think I’m tired of that also?” You tried to remain calm and keep your voice even as you spoke. “You keep pushing me away when I try to break through to you,” You put the knife down on the table and slowly lift your gaze to look at his face. “What’s going on? Is something bothering you at work?” You watch his jaw clench. “Let me guess, I wouldn’t understand?” You stand from your chair, walk around the table, and approach him. “I’ve heard it over and over the past few weeks.”
“Well, I don’t think I’m wrong,” He says. You stop in front of him and your gaze hardens. “You wouldn’t understand what’s happening, or going on, so why should I bother trying to explain it to you?”
“Because I’m your partner!” You say a bit too loudly. You clear your throat and glance at the plate on the table, that was still untouched by him. “I can try to understand, or make me understand, Taemin,” You lift your gaze to meet his, but he does everything to avoid meeting your eyes. “Even if I don’t understand, it would be better for you to let it out, instead of keeping it all inside.”
“Why should I bother?!” He says loudly, making you flinch and take a step back from him. “I would be wasting my breath, and my time!” You could feel your eyes burning as tears began to form in them, his words were harsh and cutting you like a knife. “You will never understand, so it’s best we end things now before either of us gets hurt even more.”
“Taemin…” You whisper, and reach out for him, only for him to pull his arm away and take a step back. You feel your tears spill down your cheeks at that movement, it felt like a knife had been jabbed into your heart. He turns around and makes his way towards the door, you watch him pull it open and look back at you.
“I’ll come for my things later, or throw them out,” He says before he walks out the door and shuts it. As it shuts, your knees buckle, and you crumble to the floor, Is this really it? Was this really the end between you both?
You hadn’t heard from him for two weeks before you had boxed up his things and sent them to his company before letting the landlord know that you would be moving out by the end of the week. You weren’t ever expecting to see Taemin in front of you again, especially not willingly.
“Can I come in?” He asks, he almost looks uncertain about what he is asking. “Only if it’s just for a minute,” You step aside and he slowly enters your apartment. “Thank you,” You close the door once he is inside and turn towards him.
“Do you want to sit down?” You ask. He shakes his head, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with his fingers. “Okay, then maybe you can explain what you’re doing here and how you found me?”
“Well, I had asked around,” He says. “We have some mutual friends,” You nod your head. He takes in a deep breath. “And for why I’m here… well, I would like to apologise for five years ago,” You feel a pinch in your heart. “I had no right to be like that towards you, treat you like that…”
“Taemin,” You begin, only for him to lift his hand and stop you from saying more.
“I was going through things, and feelings and emotions that I couldn’t explain or even understand, but that’s no excuse for my behaviour,” He says. “And I needed to come and apologise for that, for treating you like that all those years ago,” You nod your head, waiting for him to continue. “I know I’m five years too late, but I’m truly sorry for my words and my behaviour towards you.”
“Well…” You quietly say. “I appreciate you apologising to me for that, I am also sorry for what was said during that time,” He shakes his head and lifts his hands.
“No, no, you don’t need to apologise, you tried your hardest to get me to open up to you, but I was just being foolish,” He says and lowers his hands. “And I hope that we can become friends again, I would completely understand if you wouldn’t want that,” You softly smile at him.
“You do know that it would take a while for both of us to be able to trust one another completely again and that it will be hard work, right?” You ask. He nods his head. “Then we can give it a shot,” You knew that it would take you a while to trust him fully again, but hopefully one day you could have a beautiful friendship with him again. “Would you like to come over for a movie sometime?”
“I would like that, but can we make it at my place?” He asks. “I recently got two cats and I don’t want to leave them alone for too long during the evenings,” You nod your head.
“You should have started with your cats, I would have immediately agreed to be friends with you again,” You jokingly say. He chuckles and gives an apologetic look. “Just let me know the day and the time, and I’ll see if I can be there.”
“I will do that,” He says. “Can you give me your number, so we can arrange this?” You nod your head and walk past him towards the couch where you had your phone on charge, you unplug it and turn towards him, handing your phone to him. “Thank you,” You watch as he enters his number before you hear a buzz coming from his pocket. “I just sent a message to my phone, so I can save your number,” He hands your phone back to you and you lock it. “Thank you for your time, Y/n.”
“Thank you for coming all the way here to apologise,” You say. “It means a lot to me,” He nods his head, giving you a small smile. “Send me a picture of your cats, okay?” He laughs and nods his head as he begins making his way towards the door.
“I will, I’ll take one ASAP when I get home to send to you,” He says. You walk behind him towards the door. “Take care, Y/n,” He opens the door and steps outside.
“You too, Taemin,” You say. He walks down the hallway towards the elevator, and you watch him until he steps into the elevator before giving him a wave, he returns the wave, a bigger smile now on his lips, and it seems like a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders. It felt the same for you, like a mountain that had weighed you down for five years had finally been lifted.
