a/n: minho just looked too good in this & that mv i couldn’t help myself fuck i need him so badly (blowjob, gn!reader, smut, minors dni)
“we’re going to get caught,” minho hisses at you through his teeth, eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. you’re crouched on your knees in an unfamiliar bathroom, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you fumble with the button and zipper on his borrowed jeans.
“everyone’s on their lunch break,” you reason, finally getting the button open. you smile in satisfaction as you tug his jeans and boxers down just far enough to free his cock. “and the boys know to steer clear.”
“i should know better than to entertain your exhibitionist kink- oh, fuck,” he shuts up with a shudder when you get your lips on his head, sucking lightly and flicking your tongue along his slit. you’re not going for slow and sensual right now, you’re going for quick and dirty.
you are in a very public, very catchable bathroom right now.
“you just look so good,” you murmur against his velvety skin, trailing your lips up and down his length. your lip gloss smears a bit, leaving a pink-tinted cherry scent on him that makes you feel a bit giddy. “i can’t help myself.”
“couldn’t wait- ah,” he throws his head back, revealing the long column of his neck that you would reach up to sink your teeth into if only he’d let you. “-till we got home”
“please,” you replace your lips with your hand, pumping with the help of the sticky gloss and your spit. “you take your makeup off in the car. i wanted a chance to see what you look like when you come wearing eyeshadow.”
“i’m- close,” he pants, squinting his eyes in betrayal as his chest heaves and his muscles tense. he usually lasts longer than this; it seems that you’re not the only one with an exhibitionist kink.
“come,” you command, and like a switch flipped he tenses for a second before shaking through his climax. you open your mouth, catching most of his release on your tongue but some of it lands on your bottom lip. you make a show of licking it clean before swallowing.
“gonna be the death of me, i swear,” he helps you up, sliding his thumb along your lip as if to chase the ghost of his imprint on you.
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