#but that is a whole ass middle-aged man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atticrissfinch · 4 months

Text

The Morning After | (joel miller x reader) (18+)

Part 5.5 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: The morning after Valentine’s Day. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), daddy!kink, oral (m receiving) (we did it folks it only took 5 parts to get a blowjob), joel being weak as shit for bjs, degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), smoking, brief mentions of past consensual sex under the influence, mentions of weed, some more fluff ig word count: ~3.3k | ao3 a/n: not many notes, just enjoy some cute sexiness ♥️

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

You’re not in your own bed. That much you can tell right away. The sheets are too scratchy and smell too musky. And when you shuffle under said scratchy, musky sheets, you bump against something. That’s when you remember.

“Mornin’, Sugarplum.”

A few sleep-saturated sounds work their way from your throat as you stretch your arms above your head and roll to your opposite side. Joel is beside you under the covers, an arm behind his head on his pillow as he looks up from his phone with a lazy smile.

You squint at the time on his screen. 9 AM. “Why are you awake?”

Joel breathes a laugh out of his nose. “Sleep schedule’s a little different than yours, darlin’. Drifted in and out all night.”

You scrunch your eyebrows and rub the heel of your palm over your eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that. I guess I just kind of passed out after…”

Joel smirks at you, “After the third round of Jill and the Beanstalk?”

You give him an unimpressed look. “Think you got a whole beanstalk, huh?”

Joel shrugs with a cocky little grin. “Been climbin’ me like a tree since we met. Figured a beanstalk might be more true to size.”

“Arrogant old man,” you mutter sleepily, turning back to your other side.

“Mmm,” you hear him hum, and he presses up behind you, just as naked as you seem to be under his bedding, judging by the notable hardness prodding at the small of your back. “Didn’t hear you hollerin’ anything different last night, did I?”

Your answering scoff lacks conviction as he hooks his bare leg over yours and breathes deeply into your hair.

“Don’t think I did. Just heard a helluva lot of oh, daddy, that dick is so big. Fuck me with that huge cock, daddy,” he mocks in a horrid interpretation of what you actually sound like with a smile you can feel plastered on his lips against your skin. You’re unsure whether you’re more embarrassed by his impression of you or from remembering all the shit you said after he’d danced with you, fed you his come straight from your dripping cunt in the middle of the street, and subsequently got the both of you fairly crossfaded before falling back into bed together.

“Shut up,” you mumble, burying your face in a pillow.

“Don’t get shy on me,” he sings in your ear, smoothing a hand down your side and squeezing at your hip. His dick twitches at your back, and your ass presses back of its own accord in response. That pulls a groan from Joel directly into your ear, and just that sound has your pussy blinking awake in intrigue.

You feel the ache there from last night. You probably should’ve known better than to take his cock — his ungodly large cock — three times in one night, but he just felt so good and he kept saying the right things, the perfect things, and that masochistic traitor between your legs wouldn’t calm the fuck down.

And here she goes fucking again. Whispering that she wants him for breakfast, despite having him for dinner, dessert, and a midnight snack.

You huff and crane your head around to meet his eyes, flooded with good-natured humor. The softness in them makes you sigh, cup his scruffy cheek in your hand, and capture his lips with yours. He moans into it with ease, moving with you in drowsy tandem. As his tongue clips the inside of your mouth, you taste mint, and reality hits you.

“You brushed your teeth?” you ask, pulling back, suddenly self-conscious about your own morning breath.

He strokes a thumb over your cheek with an unbothered smile and says, “Been up for a couple hours now. Was hopin’ I’d get lucky again. Wanted to boost my chances.”

“How about you get a girl some breakfast and we can talk?”

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice gritty and already dipping lower with arousal. His hands slide around you as he presses a kiss to your throat. “How d’you like your eggs, sweetheart? Fried or fertilized?”

“Jesus Christ,” you groan, shoving his face away from your neck, and he chuckles at your disgust, placing a peck on your shoulder instead.

“Alright,” Joel concedes in a sing-song voice, untangling himself from the sheets and straddling you for a quick second to kiss you on the nose before sliding off the bed, his cock bobbing with the movement. “You doze off for a minute. I’ll make breakfast for the pretty girl.”

He doesn’t even put on underwear, he just waltzes out of his room and down the hall, presenting you with the perfect opportunity to admire his ass on the way. That is, until he brazenly scratches and tugs at his ballsack as he walks and you have to refrain from ridiculing him. He is in his own home, after all. You’re a guest. He can scratch his balls all he wants.

So. You’re in his bed still. You’d slept in his bed. That had not been your intention when you drove here last night, thirsty for attention. But it had been the safe thing to do after smoking and drinking and fucking throughout the evening. And, to be truthful, you didn’t mean to fall asleep. You were on orgasm five, or maybe six, of the night. The pot didn’t help the sleepiness factor. And after going multiple rounds with Joel, you conked out. Anyone would’ve done it. And you slept like a baby, anyway. You can justify this.

You spot your phone on Joel’s nightstand next to a pack of cigarettes, a crumpled receipt, a cluttered ashtray, his keys and wallet, and various loose change — a small peek into what is clearly Joel’s post-work dumping ground. And in the brief moment of blackness before your phone screen alights, you catch a look at your reflection and realize that you never took off your makeup. Jesus, you must look like a fucking wreck after getting the shit fucked out of you an irresponsible amount and then sleeping in an unfamiliar bed.

And Joel didn’t say a goddamn word about it.

You stumble out of Joel’s bed and are immediately met with much cooler air than you’d prefer. You spy one of Joel’s tattered t-shirts on the floor along with his sweats from last night, so you pull them on to combat the chill. Through his open bedroom door you see Joel streak across the living room in his birthday suit, rummaging a cigarette from the pack on the coffee table and standing with his back to you as he lights it. You see him raise his arm to take a puff and tilt his head straight up to billow the smoke into the air.

Stupid, hot-blooded fuck. Strutting around all naked and…upsettingly sexy. Like he doesn’t have a fucking baseball bat swinging from his crotch. One that had him sliding right into your home plate last night over and over and —

You press your eyes shut and shake your head. Fuck no. That old fuck is not infiltrating your mind with dumb metaphors. He’s not infiltrating it at all.

When you’re done scrubbing your face as clean as you can without your usual supplies and fixing your hair into something acceptable, you meander to the kitchen and lean against the entryway.

He’s facing away from you, braving the feat of cooking eggs and a few sausage links on the stove with his whole bare chest out and his dick gone mostly flaccid. Joel prods at the pan with a spatula with one hand, poising a smoldering cigarette over an empty shot glass to catch the ash with the other.

“Are you smoking over my breakfast?”

“I’m smokin’ over our breakfast, thank you very much,” he sasses, his eyes fixed on the scrambling eggs while he taps ash into the tiny glass and then takes another drag. He turns his head to look at you, but when he does, his eyes blow wide and the smoke shoots from his mouth all at once in surprise. “Good golly goddamn. You deadset on givin’ me a heart attack this whole visit of yours, Sugarplum? Sluttin’ around in my clothes like that?��

“Watch your sausage, Chef Joel,” you brush him off with a muted smile, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Oh, I already know exactly what he’s doin’ right now,” he quips with arousal ablaze in his stare.

You roll your eyes and saunter over to him, just to pluck the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers with a wink and wander to his couch to finish it off for him.

Back in the kitchen, you can hear him mutter over the sizzle of the skillet, “Hail Mary, full o’grace…”

You giggle to yourself and settle into the now-dry site of one of your many debaucheries the night before, lying back just as you were around twelve hours ago, but this time with a cloud of cigarette smoke looming overhead instead of weed.

You hear the clinking of silverware and the scrape of a pan. Then Joel calls out, “Get back in here, little temptress. Food’s ready.”

You tamp the cigarette and join him at his tiny two-seater table against the wall of his kitchen, decidedly not acknowledging the way his eyes devour you along the way, if only for the sake of your nether regions. You sit opposite his still-naked figure, appearing entirely nonchalant in nothing more than his skin, so you keep your amused smile to yourself.

Joel seems more interested in staring at you donning his clothes than having any real conversation, so you eat in relative silence, metal against plastic plates until they’re picked clean.

You prop your elbow on the table and cup your chin. “Thank you for making breakfast. That was very sweet.”

“I’m sweet as apple fuckin’ pie, baby. ‘Bout time you pick up on that, I think,” he teases, resting one arm on the table while the other ostentatiously slips under it to pull at his cock. “We gonna discuss the other half of this little deal we got goin’ on?”

“What deal? I didn’t agree to anything,” you smirk, watching the shift of his bicep as he strokes himself.

“Bullshit you didn’t,” he scowls, falling back in his chair enough that the head of his cock peeks over the table, disappearing and reappearing in the grip of his leisurely fist.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it? Being cheated out of your end of what you thought was a deal,” you say, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Should’ve had me shake on it, old man.”

“Oh, I’ll have you shakin’ on it, you little slut. Come thank me properly for your breakfast,” he purrs back at you, scooting his chair out further to make space for you.

You suck a rogue piece of food free from your tooth as you admire your nails in disinterest before looking up at him through your eyelashes. “She needs a break.”

“I’ll take any hole you’re offerin’, sweetheart.”

You consider that, tossing it around in your head, and you push yourself up from the table. You take your sweet time rounding the tiny thing until you’re standing in front of him. He tilts his head to the side with a broad smile, waiting for your next move. You clear your throat and unceremoniously drop to your knees between his legs.

“How about this one?” You pose to him as you wet your lips and plant your hands on his thighs.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, tapping the leaking head of his cock at your bottom lip. “That’ll be just fine.”

You dart your tongue to taste the smear of precome on your lips, and the moan you let out might be a little exaggerated, but the roll of his eyes in sheer ecstasy has you thinking it was worth exaggerating.

“Shit, baby. Lemme see this cock between those pretty lips.”

You don’t torture him as much as you maybe should. But you wouldn’t be honest if you said your mouth wasn’t salivating at the sight of him. So you open as wide as you can and close your lips around his tip, laving your tongue over his slit as you suck at him.

“Fuck,” he groans out, already sounding destroyed at what you’re doing and what’s to follow. “So pretty, sweetheart.” He moves a hand under your chin and indents the flesh of your cheeks with his fingers.

You moan around him and hollow your cheeks, sucking harder at his head and tasting more precome dribbling out onto your tongue. You lick it up and pop him out of your mouth as you look up at him. “You taste good, daddy.”

He hums a rumbling sound and pinches in the sides of your face with his fingers again. “Let daddy feed you a little more then, huh?”

You nod your head at him and drop your jaw, descending on him again, but deeper. The stretch required to take him this way is even more than you had imagined, but you’re determined to take as much of him as you can. You think it’s time to show some gratitude to your pussy, for her faithful service in servicing Joel, and take the bullet for this one.

The prominent veins of Joel’s cock feel thicker when pressed against your tongue. His scent is so much more concentrated here, and it has you a little dizzy. You allow your eyes to flutter closed as you inhale through your nose and start to bob on him with concave cheeks. When he nudges at the back of your throat, Joel’s voice pitches up in a way you’ve never quite heard him do before. It’s unsteady and uninhibited and hot as fuck.

He slips free of your mouth and spit adorns your lips and his cock as you catch your breath. “You’re kind of a little bitch for blowjobs aren’t you?” You tease him as you gather the saliva in your mouth and spill it in an obscene display down the length of his cock.

“Fuck me,” Joel grinds out, tipping the glistening head of him toward your mouth again impatiently, “How could you tell?”

“Sounds are different,” you mutter with a proud grin. “Talking less shit,” you add with a wink before diving back down onto him again.

“Smart little slut,” Joel grunts brokenly as he skims against the back of your mouth again, rocking his hips gently in time with your bobbing motions and threatening the stretch of your throat with his thick head. You feel your eyes watering as you fight back a cough, your nails digging crescents into Joel’s tense thighs as he wages his own battle to control the thrust of his hips.

You come up for air, licking up the underside of him and flicking into his slit just to watch his cock jump. “There’s so fucking much of it, daddy,” you whine as you mouth at the circumference of him.

“Daddy knows that’s how you like it, baby,” he rasps, drawing spit across your cheek with his thumb. “Knew you’d be a slut for this big cock the second I split open that little hole the first time.”

You hum against his length as you lick and suck at him. You can’t bring yourself to fully comprehend how much you’d have to practice to take every inch of him into your mouth. So you resign yourself to employing what you have in your current skill set. Maybe you’ll put in some more rehearsal time with the new silicone dildo you have in your nightstand, which you’re loath to admit you purchased primarily to fill the void shaped like Joel when you’re alone. But he doesn’t need to know about that, and his ego certainly doesn’t either.

Despite your lack of ability to suck this man into your throat as deep as you’d like, Joel does not seem disappointed in the slightest. In fact, he already looks and sounds like his resolve is shattering with every passing minute. You bounce your head up and down on him, moaning and sucking at his thickness while his noises grow more needy and insistent and so unlike what he typically sounds like when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you.

You allow him to fall from your mouth just so you can glide your lips along his shaft, lower and lower until you meet his balls. You fix your eyes on him as you encase one of them in the warm wetness of your mouth and do your best to stroke the length of him with your hand.

“God fuckin’ damn it, baby,” he grits out, running harsh fingers through his hair and wrapping a large hand around your own to help you jack him off. “Shit, I’m not gonna last, you gotta…”

You giggle a little as you suck his other ball into your mouth and run broad strokes of your tongue over it.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he whines, his voice cracking midway through, and yanks at your head with urgency. “In your mouth, darlin’ girl. Need it in your mouth.”

You spring up and take his head back in, sucking around it with vigor as you jerk him off in tandem.

“Fuck, like that. Fuck, like that, shit,” Joel says, his voice almost begging with desperation, until he gives a ragged shout and you feel the first shot of him down your throat. Joel’s breaths are vocal and heavy as rope after rope of his come floods your mouth. You whimper around him as drops fall free from the corners of your mouth with the incessant pulses of his cock.

When he’s finally spent, he slips out of you with care, and you seal your lips shut to keep what he’s given you inside. His eyes are tired, his chest heaving as you lock onto his gaze and make a show of swallowing him down, swiping at the stray drops and sucking them clean as well, and presenting your empty mouth to him.

“Jesus, why have I never had you do that before?” Joel pants, raking his fingers through his sweaty curls. “So obsessed with that diamond cooch of yours. Never thought that sassy little mouth could compete.”

“Well, that’s your fault for underestimating me,” you say, placing a chaste kiss to his tip and hauling yourself off the floor to give your knees a reprieve.

“Hell if it ain’t,” he says, gripping your hips and holding you hostage between his legs as he gazes up at you with the kind of affection one only really sees after giving newsworthy head. He rucks his shirt up over your stomach and presses a kiss there, right above the band of his sweats. “Thanks for keepin’ daddy warm last night.”

You shake your head in dismissal of his sentiment but thread your fingers through his hair. “Thank you for letting me crash.”

“Can crash my party anytime, sweet Sugarplum.”

You sway with a hint of bashfulness at the implication of his words and decide it’s better to derail than continue on the current track. “I’m gonna hop in the shower if that’s okay.”

“S’okay if I can join,” he stipulates, hooking a finger into the band of your pants and pulling it outward, peeking down inside them. “Miss her already.”

“Shut up,” you say, batting him away and breaking free toward the hallway. “She’s overworked and tired.”

“How’s about I give her a nice Joel Miller spa treatment,” he offers, trailing after you

“A spa treatment? For my pussy?” you ask skeptically over your shoulder, “The fuck would that even entail?”

Joel shrugs a shoulder and grins devilishly. “Pretty much just me eatin’ you out while it’s all steamy.”

You pause with your hand on the doorknob, eyeing him from head to toe in all his naked glory, weighing his offer. Ultimately you shrug back with a little upside down grin as you push into the bathroom. “Alright. Sign me up for one Joel Miller Pussy Spa Treatment.”

Joel gives a two-finger salute with a cheeky grin and follows behind you. “At your service, ma’am.”

Next Part _______

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Visit here for instructions on how to get a tab just for the blogs you've subscribed to at the top of your tumblr page!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #sleazy!joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic #mmitb

1K notes · View notes

joelsgreys · 4 months

Text

mornings like these

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: There’s a reason you’re always late to morning patrol. That reason’s name is Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, NO AGE SPECIFIED FOR READER. established relationship though it’s lightly implied it’s a fairly new relationship, hints of fluff, hints of smut, morning wood, very brief mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and fingering.

word count: < 1k

a/n: this is quite literally nothing. just a blurb i wrote in 20 ish or so minutes. it could have been a whole thing, but i am in the middle of editing a long wip update. i needed a break from it and this happened. hardly any plot, hardly any porn, what would you even call this? lol

You wake with a gentle start, your eyes fluttering open.

Sunlight filters in through the sheer white curtains.

Soft. Warm. Golden.

A strong arm tightens around you.

“Mm,” he mumbles from beside you. “S’nice.”

His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.

You’re still getting used to it. To mornings like these.

Waking up next to him—with him.

Naked in his bed, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.

You’re laying on your side, your back against his chest.

You feel him already, hard on curve of your ass.

Suddenly, all you can think about is the night before.

Every deep, swollen kiss he gave you.

Every sweet, loving word he’d whispered to you.

Every minute of every hour he’d spent worshiping your body like he was getting to know it for the first time all over again.

“It is nice,” you agree with him, exhaling a small sigh of content. Finding his large hand splayed over your lower belly, you lace your fingers together with his, the same long, thick fingers that stretched the tight walls of your aching cunt all night long. “After three days of pouring rain, this is very nice. It almost makes me look forward to going out on patrol.”

Chuckling softly, Joel nuzzles his nose into your bare shoulder, deeply inhaling the subtle, delicate scent of milk and honey soap. “Don’t mean the weather, sweet girl.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No?”

He gently nips at your flesh with his teeth. “Nope.”

“Then what do you mean?” you press, innocently.

As if you don’t already know.

“This.” There’s a brief pause. “Wakin’ up with you.”

Giggling, you tease, “You’ve gone soft for me, Miller.”

“And so what if I have?” He’s grinning, you can feel it.

Slowly, he begins to lower your intertwined hands and drags them further down your belly.

You know what he’s doing. The man is insatiable.

“Joel,” you utter his name breathlessly.

“What is it, honey?” he coos into the nape of your neck.

Oh yes, you know exactly what he’s doing.

Pulling your hand out of his, you roll onto your back and turn your head, your nose lightly bumping his. “Don’t start,” you warn him in the sternest voice you can possibly muster.

There’s a mischievous glimmer in his dark brown eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’.”

His cock is rock hard, poking into your hip.

“We have patrol in an hou—”

Joel’s hand slips between your thighs and you’re cut off by the sound of your own loud gasp as he drags a finger languidly along your slick, warm folds.

He skims your jawline with his nose. “Now, what were you sayin’?”

“Oh my fuck,” you curse as he sinks his finger into your cunt, burying it to his knuckle. “Joel, Tommy will kill us if we’re late to our shift again—” You moan as he curls his finger upwards, your hips bucking up off of the bed and into his hand.

That’s where Joel Miller had you.

Right in the palm of his hand.

In every which way possible.

“I can stop,” he murmurs against your cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling your soft skin. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t tell him to stop.

Of course you don’t want him to stop.

You never, ever want him to stop.

Moments later, Joel’s head is between your thighs and he’s devouring your cunt like he’s having breakfast. His tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, a mere warm up before you take his throbbing cock.

Hands tangled in his graying, dark brown curls, you forget all about getting to patrol on time.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller blurb #joel miller drabble #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

daydreams-after-dark · 1 month

Note

Haii babes

Hear me out okay. Younger neighbor living next to DILF Chan and he's having a BBQ with all his middle aged friends like Minho, Changbin and Han and he invited you over. Obviously you have to dress your best (to get fucked) and it turns into a gun activity amongst the 5 of you 😫. PLEASE IM DYING ABOUT THIS

Holy shit! This ask came in and it instantaneously unlocked something in me! I was about to go out and meet a friend for coffee and the whole drive over I was thinking about channie and his friends fucking reader!!!

The idea of middle aged Chan and his friends, using younger reader like a little whore has got me rather turned on. Maybe it’s the voyeur in me wanting to see her getting absolutely ruined by the mature men? I don’t know and I’m not going to question it.

I just want to write something downright filthy (because this is the after dark blog). 😈😈💀💀

Just to clarify, the asks is meant to say “fun activity” not “gun.”

Oh and I just have to mention that this is basically 3Racha plus Minho…. Which I’ve always said is my ultimate dream! 🫠🫠🫠🫠 i'M SUCH SLUT FOR THEM!!

Ready? Here we go. Buckle up, it’s going to be pure filth!

CW: age gap - chan and co are in their forties (but very energetic) and reader is 22, implied consent, objectification, praise, name calling, unprotected vaginal and anal sex, double pen two holes, gangbang, blow jobs, cum eating (m and f), cream pie, slapping, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, nipple play., videotaping

Your neighbour, Chan, is a filthy man. At first glance he is quite polite, very good looking, and a wonderful resident of the neighbourhood. But it's just an act. You know this from the way he sits on his upstairs balcony watching you whenever you sunbathe in your backyard.

It feels thrilling knowing he's watching, and the next time you sit in your backyard to sunbathe, you take your bikini off entirely. He doesn't even pretend he’s not looking.

You wonder if he'd come over and fuck you if called out to him? Probably. He seems like that kind of man.

One glorious spring day, Chan invites you over for an evening barbeque. "I'm having a small gathering of a few of my close friends, and they'd love to meet you." he smiles kindly, crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. But there's a deviousness behind them.

"Of course! I'll be there."

From what you’ve seen, his friends are hot too, and so of course you're ringing Chan's doorbell in your shortest sundress, tiniest panties, and tallest heels you own, balancing a platter of finger food in your hand.

“Y/n! Thank you for coming. Everyone has been waiting for you.” He guides you through his home to a closed in outdoor entertaining area at the back of the house.

“These are my friends.” He gestures to the three men sitting in outdoor couches around a low coffee table.

“This is Changbin, Han and Minho.”

You smile and wave at each of the men, exchanging pleasantries.

There are snacks spread out on the table in front of them, along with empty glasses. “Chan, shall I help poor drinks?” You offer. He smiles and tells you where to find the wine.

As you go retrieve the bottle of wine you take a moment to catch your breath. They are all so fucking handsome. You think to yourself, and you’re glad you decided to dress cute-slash-slutty.

“Here she is.” Smiles Chan as you walk back out.

“Drinks, boys?” You chime, holding up the wine, and all four men hold their empty glasses ready for you. You make your way around, being sure to bend over and stick out your ass to give each of the other men a view up your short dress, whilst smiling innocently at the man you were pouring a drink for.

You hear a few mumbled “fucks” and you know they’re eyes are glued to your ass cheeks poking out from underneath the dress.

“Y/n. You should come sit down. Take a seat.” said Chan.

You stand up and look around, but there isn’t a chair or space for you to sit.

“I think Chan means go take a seat on his lap, princess.” The one named Minho chuckles.

You turn to Chan who’s sitting with his legs wide and his arms outstretched along the back of his chair.

Oh. That’s exactly what he means. You can see it written on his smug face.

Quietly, you make your way over to Chan and carefully perch yourself across his lap.

He sucks in a breath and wraps an arm around your back. His other hand comes to your knee and squeezes it gently. “I was just telling the guys about what you and I get up to on the weekend.” He smirks.

“W-what do you mean?” You ask.

“Oh you know perfectly well, babygirl.” He says sternly. “How you put yourself on display for me.” He inhales the skin on your neck, causing you to shudder. “And they want you to show them what you show me.”

You look around at the men. Han is snacking on some crisps like this is an everyday situation, Changbin has the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, and Minho looks like he wants to eat you.

You gulp.

Chan slowly unzips the back of your dress and pulls the sleeves down your arms until your tits spill out. He immediately attached his mouth to a nipple, then he pulls off with a loud pop. “So young. So supple.” He says approvingly groping at your breast.

“How old are you, y/n” Changbin asks curiously.

“T-twenty two.” You squeak.

“Perfect age.” He licks his lips.

“Old enough to fuck rough, and young enough to teach a lesson.” Minho stated.

“Hear that, babygirl? They want to play with you.” He whispers low.

Fuck! You bite your lip and grind ever so slightly on Chan’s thigh. He notices the small action. “You like that idea, don’t you? You gonna be our little whore for tonight?”

His hand slides up your dress to find your soaking panties. “Thought so.” He chuckles, pulling them to the side and pushing a finger into you.

“Fuck! Oh god… Chan.” You choke as he thrusts his fingers into your tight wet cunt.

“Hmmm… I think you mean daddy.” He corrects you. “Now bend over. You deserve a slap for that insolence.”

You looked at him questioningly, and the other men snicker.

“I said bend over, you need to be spanked.”

You move to lay across his lap, and Chan lifts your dress to reveal your ass.

"Hmm, scrumptious piece of meat." ogles Changbin.

"Bin, pass me the cheese knife...thanks, mate."

Your eyes squeeze tight and your breath hitches as he carefully traces the knife up the back of your thigh, before using it to slice your tiny little panties right off.

He tosses the knife back on the table and spreads your cheeks so the other three can see your glistening pussy.

"She looks like she'll be really tight." mumbled Han, his mouth full of food. "Do you think she'll be able to take us all? You know what we're like once we get started."

"She looks trainable." said Minho.

"Now, I think five spanks, should be enough." Chan concludes, and you secretly smile to yourself. You've can easily handle way more than- "Ahhh...Fuck!" you cry when a hard slap lands directly on your pussy. His hand comes down again. Slap! and another one. God, that stings.

"Just three more." Slap. Slap. Slap.

He pulls your dress down your body and slides it off your legs and tosses it to the floor. "Up we get, babygirl. Sit up now." Chan cooes.

You sit up with tears down your cheeks and look at the three other men. They all have their cocks out and are stroking their lengths.

"What do you have to say for yourself." Chan caresses your thighs and nuzzles into your breasts.

"S-sorry, d-daddy." you whisper.

"That's it. Good girl." The praise makes you feel good, and it makes you want to please him more.

"Now, I need you to go and suck Han's cock." He helps you onto your feet. "Go. He's waiting for you." he urges you on.

Naked, except for your heels, you make your way to Han. You feel wobbly on your feet from the shock of being spanked, but at the same time you've never felt more turned on in your life.

"Here, doll." Changbin stands up and directs you to kneel where he had been sitting and lean down and take Han's cock deep into your mouth. "Yes. This way we can have a bit of fun with you at the same time Han is fucking your throat." he adds.

"Baby, ahhh...ngh... fuck your mouth..." Han hums as you give him the best head of your life, taking him all the way into your throat. "Mmmh...you've sucked cock before haven't you, baby. ahhh...like a fucking pro." he holds your head down and thrusts into you, making you choke. "One of my favourite sounds." he adds.

Changbin spreads your ass cheeks and rubs the pads of his fingers around the entrance to your pussy, making you moan around Han. Then you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Changbin. Split her open for us." Minho says.

"Is our little toy ready to be played with? hmm?" Changbin chuckles as he pushes his cock into you. You let out a muffled cry as Changbin's girthy cock stretches your pussy open. He's so thick, but you're so wet, and once he is fully seated inside you, he starts to fuck you.

His thrusts are slow, deep, measured, and so powerful that you really are being forced to choke on Han's cock. Together, two men use you like a fleshlight, like a pretty toy to fuck into. Their hands explore your body in a rough, animalistic way, and you're fucking loving it.

You know that Chan and Minho are watching you from their chairs, probably jerking off and dying for a turn of you.

"Fuck...your pussy...so fucking tight..." he digs his fingers into your hips and slams your ass back onto him. "That's it...fuck...show me how you fuck yourself..." he releases his hands from your body, and stops thrusting entirely, making you back yourself onto him over and over again.

You can barely breathe, your makeup would surely be ruined by now, between the sting of the spanking and choking on cock, your face is surely a mess.

"Fuck. Coming." choked Han and you feel spurts of his hot cum hit the back of your throat. "Take it, baby. Such a good slut." he pants, emptying himself in your mouth.

Changbin abruptly pulls out, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness, and he pulls your head off of Han by your hair. "Open, quick." he grunts and bullies his cock into your mouth. Three harsh thrusts and he's coming on your tongue too. "Show me, doll. Good girl." He nods in approval when you show him you swallowed every drop. “Belly full of cum.”

Han gets up off the couch to find a snack and a drink, and you almost collapse face first into the cushion. You feel Chan move behind you, spreading your cheeks again for a good look at your used hole.

"Babygirl didn't get to cum did she?" he mocked. You shook your head whimpering. You are so close, and your core feels so tight that you are going to snap at any moment.

You hear the sound of a cap from a bottle and then a familiar feeling of cold lube being applied to your asshole. They're going to fuck your ass.

"Shh... Daddy's just going to loosen you up." he purrs as he begins to prep you for his cock. You rest your head on the cushion and give yourself to Chan, letting him finger fuck your ass until he is three full fingers deep. "Taking me so well. Now for you to feel my cock, yeah? It’s gonna be a tight fit.”

He removes his fingers and presses his cock to your hole.

“That’s it…Good girl…Look at you taking daddy’s cock so well.” He praises as he pushes into you slowly. “Your tight little hole loves to be stretched… doesn’t it. Answer me.”

B-yes…loves to be stretched.” You pant.

“This is what you think about isn’t it? Me deep in your ass.” He starts to fuck you, withdrawing slightly, then pushing in deeper on each thrust. You can’t help but cry out, moan and whimper as his thrusts steadily become faster.

“Next time you’re out in your backyard naked, I’m gonna come around and fuck your ass….just like this…” he pants.

“We’ve managed to hook it up.” Changbin says excitedly.

“Babygirl. Look.” He whispers. You look up to the wall mounted flatscreen to see a close up of your ass with Chan’s enormous cock fucking into you. You turn your head back to see Changbin videoing the action, then your eyes return to the screen to watch your hole being abused.

Han comes to your side to reach underneath you to play with your clit. “You gonna show us how you come, baby?” He smirks.

“Oh fuck! Fuuuuuccckkk!” You squeal, coming hard.

“Good girl! Now daddy’s gonna fill you up. Ready, sweet thing?” His hand comes down to slap your ass.

“Yes, daddy. Fill me up. Need your cum.” You plead.

Chan groans as he releases himself deep in your ass and withdraws himself.

“Princess. Over here right now.” Minho snaps.

You haven’t even a chance to recover from your orgasm, as you stumble over to Minho. “Sit on the coffee table. Spread your legs for me.” He pushes you down to sit in front of him and shoves your legs open. Then he’s suddenly kneeling between them and lapping at your cunt.

You throw your head back and moan. The man knows how to eat pussy, and you’re not sure you will ever be go back to go back to lacklustre oral.

Minho’s mouth moves down to catch the cum leaking from your ass. Now that’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“Which hole you gonna fuck?” asks Changbin.

Minho pulls away from your pussy and lazily fingers your cunt. “I wanna DP her. Han. You haven’t fucked get yet.”

Minho sits back in his chair, pulling you on top of him and spreading your legs over his. He pulls your heels off and instructs you to press your feet into the cushions beside him and lift yourself up. You do as he says as he lines his cock up with your ass and slowly lowers you onto him.

“S’deep.” You choke.

“Mmm… you feel perfect, Princess. Such a pretty little cockslut for us aren’t you? Gonna be filled with so much cum by the end of this. Full of cum and your holes fucking gaping.” He smirks against your cheek. His hands squeeze your tits as you grind on his cock.

“Come on, Princess. Not getting tired I hope? C’mon, bounce on me…put on a show for the camera.” He hisses.

You’ve forgotten they were recording you. You muster all the energy you can to bounce up and down Minho’s cock and watching the screen to see your hole swallowing it up with ease. Fuck! You are a slut. And you’re fucking loving every second of it.

“Han. Come on.” Minho growls.

Han positions himself in front of you and lines his cock up with your cunt. “Have you done this before, baby?” He asks you.

You don’t answer, you’re about to come again.

“Hey!” He slaps you across the cheek and you come hard around Minho’s cock.

“Fuck, she just came. She’s clamped up. Fuck… quick… Han, fuck her now.” demands Minho.

“So our little lady likes to get roughed up. Huh?” Han shook his head In disbelief, and then groaned low as he pushed his cock into your pussy.

“Oh!!” You groan. “So…full… you’re splitting me in two… shhhiiittt.”

You’re not new to anal sex whatsoever, but you’ve never taken two cocks like this.

“Babygirl…” Chan tugs you by your hair and you turn your head to the side to take his cock in your mouth.

Changbin is on the other side taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock. He’s still holding his camera, aiming it from above, and managing to catch everything that is happening.

All four of them are using your body at the same time. Minho fucking your ass, Han your pussy, and you alternate between Chan and Changbin as they fuck your face.

Your hair is being pulled, someone has a hand wrapped around your neck, your nipples are being pinched and slapped, and Han is spitting on you.

They pull another orgasm from you before moaning and growling as they fill you up with their cum.

Eventually, they pull themselves out of you, they say their farewells, leaving you and Chan alone.

He carries you bridal style to his bathroom, runs you a bath and tucks you into his bed so you can rest.

“Such a good girl for daddy.” He whispers as he slips in bed beside you. “We need organise another gathering soon.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23

#skz smut #chan smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #changbin smut #sorshas fic #sorsha after dark asks

575 notes · View notes

37-drc89 · 7 months

Text

the way things go; lee minho

❁ nothing warms your heart more than his presence.

trope: roommates to lovers.

genre: comfort, slight angst, work exhaustion, happy ending.

summary: finally understanding that your failure doesn't scare him away.

warnings: blood, mention of overprotective parent, family problems, let me know if i should put anything more in here.

word count: 3,7k.

masterlist

note: this is very much my first fic here, like, ever. i'm still green in tumblr, any links and mostly making posts look good, but i'll eventually master it. i look forward to seeing your opinions and things i can change or make better, i'll appreciate every comment. and, please remember that english is not my first language! if you see any typo or something doesn't make sense, please inform me! thank you:)

Coming back home on Friday after whole week of working your ass off really feels like a walk of shame. You feel like everyone passing by can tell how awfully you did at your workplace today. And they wouldn't be wrong, the amount of scolds your boss threw in your direction through past few days is worryingly numerous.

Whether it was missing out on paper work your boss asked you to do for him, because you were so sure the deadline was set on the day after, or accidentially knocking off of your desk whole cup of hot, sweetened tea that later on you had to scrap off of the covering, under the strict eye of the middle aged man that scared you so much. Especially with the amount of misfortune that chased after you lately, like it was glued to you.

Cringe makes its way to your face. You're shuffling your way to your apartment, not really in a hurry, feet lazily dragged after you as you didn't even have any strenght to properly lift them off the ground. You most likely look like you've been partying for at least three nights in a row, but you can't find it in yourself to care about it. Not now.

Seeing the building in which your apartment is placed have never felt so relieving and you can feel your legs giving up under your weight just at the thought of splashing on the bed and dozing off. Vision of passing out on the sidewalk doesn't seem appealing to you, so you rush yourself to the door, typing entrance code and walking into the elevator, stairs not even crossing your mind. Your tired body slumps itself against the wall as you patiently wait to get to the 6th floor, finding relief in having something to support yourself on. Finally getting to the door you can't help but feel excited, tapping your feet happily just at the thought of making up every hour of sleep you've missed this week because of your busy schedule. You slide the door open and the very first thing reaching your ears is eager meowing, three fur balls appearing at the entrance immediately. You can't help but smile, kneeling to give each of them gentle head pat before taking off the coat and shoes. This truly felt like a bliss, like you've just slid off a bag of stones off your back. Sigh leaves your mouth, heading to the kitchen you turn on the kettle as your tea craving grows with every second. Soonie appears next to you, sitting at the table just across from you. You've grown so friendly with your roommate's Minho's cats that neither you nor him have any problem with kitties occupying places people normally wouldn't let them sit on.

Then you freeze for a second.

You look at Soonie.

Soonie looks at you.

Your brows furrow and the cat goes back to whatever he was doing previously.

Fuck.

Minho is coming home today. He's been away for past five days due to his business trip, that was probably exhaustion fogging your mind enough to forget about this. He's coming back today. And your apartment looks like a bomb has been detonated right in the middle of it all. You can't risk him seeing how messy you got, Minho is always the one to put stuff at the right place, making his bed no matter in how much of a hurry he's in, always the one to do the dishes and basically make everything look perfect. You can't see him disappointed in you for such an easy thing, he'll think you don't even gather your life together. Not like you do, but it's nothing in his business, you shouldn't become another one of his problems. He's just your roommate and the only thing you share and should take care of is apartment that is now in complete mess. You can blame it on your lack of time, barely spending any time at your place recently, but that won't help in current situation.

Quick glance at the time, 4:23 pm, you reach out for your phone to scroll up the conversation with your friend to make sure how fast you have to act.

He's back in town at 5 pm. Could this possibly get any worse?

You scold yourself internally for letting this whole situation happen. But you don't have time to think about this now, and as you turn off the kettle you speedrun to the livingroom, gathering scattered clothes from all around the place. You blame it on Monday when you got up so late you didn't even have time for brushing your hair and of course, the shirt you were looking for was nowhere to be found. Out of all things, it was the one you needed that day.

Then you pick up empty cans of soda, bottles of water and cups of coffee from the table and quickly throw them into the dishwasher. You blame it on Tuesday, the night you realised you have to write that fucking paperwork you got scolded for missing on Monday. So you sat there for hours, head empty, taking breaks only when your tired tears started wetting your pages, scared that all your miserable efforts will be ruined.

Rushing to Minho's room you pick up blanket and pillows from his floor. You blame it on Wednesday, the day you were already on the edge of breaking down and giving up on your job. Even though the boy is only a roommate for you, you've grown so used to his presence you started finding peace in it. Even after the worst day you knew that someone will always be there waiting at your apartment to serve you cup of hot chocolate and bowl of ramen, to take your turn of folding laundry or just listen to how appaling your day was. But he wasn't home and it left you all to yourself which was never the best idea. So, seeking for at least tiny bit of comfort, you slept on his floor. That sounds so fucking stupid and weird when you think about it now, but just the aura Minho left in his room made you feel a bit closer to him. Reminds you of every time he invited you over to play some online games for 12 year olds or spill any tea that happened at his work. Though, you never wanted to interfere his private space, so sleeping in his bed didn't even cross your mind. Floor was just sufficient for you, and you let your tears flow that night, just as much as you needed it. You know he would understand. He might seem cold to others, but you know he would. He already unwrapped his side of him to you letting you see that truly, inside, he's softer than anyone you know; It's all for Soonie, Doongie and Dori. They really do get the best of Minho.

Going back to the kitchen, you gather empty boxes of instant ramen, snacks and every ready shop food that you could possibly find at the convenience store. You blame it on the whole week of rushing, not even having time to eat a proper meal. You can feel it down your stomach, body demanding anything that could properly feed it and give it any strenght to function as it should be functioning. Honestly, you can't recall the last time you didn't feel sick. Lump in your throat was your loyal companion since a week ago, constant urge to throw up not leaving your body even when you were falling asleep and you know you'll have to appreciate normal, nutritions food more.

You run around the apartment holding a wet towel, wiping quickly every mirror hung on the walls as you know nothing pisses Minho more than fogged glass. So you try your best to do it carefully, just like he does it. Reaching the last mirror placed in the front hall you eagerly wipe it, aware of your lack of time. Then it all happens at once.

Shitty food, lack of sleep, liters of coffee and ungodly amount of stress feel like kicking in all at once, like it's been gathering in your exhausted body for the whole week just for this one moment that you needed to be fucking careful.

Vision blurry, feet suddently tripping over itself, mind going blank just for a second, but second is enough for you to try holding yourself onto the small table placed right under the mirror and shaking it so hard when sudden thump reach your ears, followed by loud sound of shattered glass. You don't want to look. Because you're fully aware of what just happened. You don't want to look but you do. Eyes landing on the remains of now broken vase, water all over the floor, flowers that were resting inside it now cut in half and completely soaked.

And it was Minho's favourite vase. The first and the last thing he always glanced at when leaving or coming back home, admiring its beauty, pretty patterns, unique shape and the prettiest flowers inside. Flowers that he got for his 25th birthday that passed not so long ago from his dearest best friend Jisung. Flowers that he was so happy to receive, first thing he did after coming home that day was showing them to you, proudly, ranting about how they perfectly suit the room. And you ruined it all.

Your body slides slowly on the wet floor, water soaking your pants on your knees and you support yourself on the palms of your hands not to completely fall into the mess. You feel small pieces of glass ripping open your delicate skin of your hands, small streams of blood making their way to the floor, mixing with spilled water but you couldn't care less. Elbows start to shake under the weight of your body, shoulders tensing and your head falls, your own quiet sobs reaching your ears. It quickly turns into uncotrollable groans and whines, tears now flowing down your face with no end, nose already full, loose hair stick to your now completely soaked cheeks.

And you blame it on yourself. You could seek for anything to put his all on, like your boss, for making you feel useless for not even managing to do your fucking job properly and assigning you more work than anyone else in your department. Or your mother for not teaching you how to manage your time and how to function on your own, her overprotectiveness during your childhood and teenage years showing so often that you never even got any time to learn adult life before stepping into it. But you know it isn't their fault, no matter how hard you try to think that it is. You let yourself into this situation. You let yourself be in the state you're currently in. You didn't try hard enough to make yourself a decent person. There's no one you can blame but you.

Your endless cries must've muffled the sound of door cracking open, eyes reaching only feet of your roommate that was now standing at the entrance. You couldn't look up, even if you wanted to, you couldn't look Minho in the eyes. Not when he's witnessing your failure and the mess you made out of something so dear to him.

Meanwhile Minho stood there, body frozen, gazing at your tiny figure splashed on the floor, shoulders shaking. He doesn't even notice the crashed vase at first, your current state drawing all his attention immediately to you.

He doesn't give himself any time to think much longer about what's happening in his front hall right now, dropping bags he's been holding in his right hand and suitcase on his left and appearing at your side the second after, kneeling by your vulnerable body on the floor.

"Hey, hey.." Minho lightly lays his hand on your shaky back, carefully caressing it to soothe you. "Easy now, I'm here."

The only respond he gets is your dramatic, loud sob ripping out of your heavy chest. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Minho... Is the only thing you could get out of yourself, followed by another set of pretty disgusting, wet cries.

"Are you hurt? Let me see your hand, please," your roommate asked quietly not to scare you after noticing red coloured drops beside your knees. Gently, he took your harmed hands into his and studied small pieces of glass stuck in your skin. "Let's get it cleaned, okay?"

His hand makes its way to your waist and he stands up slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that could put you in pain. He shuffles you to the bathroom and helps you sit on the toilet seat and starts preparing alcohol and wet towels.

You feel pathetic.

Not only you ruined his special item, something so important and beautiful, but now he has to take care of someone that caused all the damage. You feel helpless once again, like you couldn't do anything fucking right for once. Once.

Your caring roommate starts removing glass shatters from your wound, his tongue sticking out a bit from the corner of his mouth, fully concentrated in his task. He knows that if his hands twitch even a little bit, he might hurt you even more, and let me tell you, his hands are trembling. He can't recall a situation when he saw you in such state.

You always seem tough, tough against any misfortune that meets you. You surely talk to him when you need some shoulder to lay on, about your worse days and he's cautious enough to notice when you're exhausted. But he's never seen you at your breaking point, starting to believe you don't have any. Yet you're here, in front of him, not even being able to speak properly. He can't help but feel kind of relieved at the whole situation knowing that your hard, protective shell cracked a little bit, letting him see something he's never seen in you before. Weakness.

"This might sting a bit," Minho informs you as he presses alcohol soaked paper to your wound. Whimper leaves your mouth at the unpleasant feeling and you hang your head down. He quickly wraps bandage around your hand and clasps it between his warm palms.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about that the hall. I'll take care of it, okay?" He tries to lower himself, kneeling in front of you, so he can get a better glimpse of your puffed face. You shake your head and straighten your back, looking at him with serious expression.

"No." You sniff, "No, I broke it, I broke something so important to you and it's my fault. I'll clean it. I'll buy you a new one, the same one, I promise Minho."

His hands make their way to your back, slowly, eyes remaining on you for any sign of discomfort. When you sneakily lean into the touch, Minho pulls your body entirely towards his, clasping your weak figure into his arms and sways you left and right, wanting to feel your muscles relax in his embrace.

"What's wrong, hm? My roommate senses are tingling," his voice muffles itself by pressing his mouth against your shoulder, "Talk to me, y/n, please?"

"I had the worst week ever here, without you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You just shake your head no, holding onto his waist tighter than ever. You feel him nod. His calm aura pulls you in completely, feeling like walking into hot building during snowy, cold winter. Your cheeks warm up, pressing right below his neck, his body warmth transferring itself to you.

"It's lowkey weird." You choke out, coughing right after because of how stuffed your poor throat felt.

"What is?"

"You comforting me while I'm sitting on a toilet seat."

You manage to let out throaty chuckle to light the atmosphere up, however, you can't help the warm stream of tears flowing right after.

"Want to move it to the livingroom?" Minho pulls out of the hug slightly, setting his gaze at your red face again and your eyes make their way to the floor. You still haven't looked him in the eyes, not even once, as you're scared of the wave of guilt that will follow. As if the one you're feeling right now isn't enough. You feel like a child scared to get shouted at by their parents.

Minho crouches down in front of you and you hum in question, brows furrowed. He only gestures with his hand for you to hop onto his back, already positioning your legs on his hips. You groan but don't protest, you know how Minho is and you know fighting him is hopeless. Wrapping your arms around his next securely and glueing your chest onto his back, you melt into the warmth of his body. He stands up, feeling your breath tickling the skin behind his ear and smiling to himself, noticing how it got much steadier than it was before. He leads both of you out the bathroom and again, the sad view of Minho's favourite vase on the floor, not really looking any similar to vase anymore, hits you, shoving another wave of guilt through your nerves. You close your eyes and rest your forehead on your roommate's shoulder.

"I'm truly, so, so sorry Minho. I never meant to do this, I was just trying to make the place look presentable for you and it ended like it always does." the words left your mouth as quiet squeak, taking another deep breath before speaking again; "Yet you still have to clean the mess I did, like you always do. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve you. I failed being your perfect roommate."

"Who said I wanted a perfect roommate?" he asks as you reach your shared couch, carefully laying you on it then sitting by your side, facing you. "You think I'm mad at you, but I'm not. I've broken like five vases in my life and none of this was anything I planned, just like you."

You finally find some strenght in yourself to raise your gaze and lock it at his round, dark eyes. And he's right, no matter how intensively you look into them, you can't find even a tiny bit of anger in them, they sparked with understanding and you find yourself feeling bad at even thinking someone this precious could get so mad at you. They were so pure you could see your ugly, messed up reflection in them. Before you could start thinking about this again, his eyes squinted a little bit as corners of Minho's lips curled upwards in the most beautiful, sincere, affectionate smile you've ever seen. You only realised that his hand was placed on your trembling knee when you felt his fingers caressing it softly, sending warm shiver through your whole body.

"What about the flowers? You loved them..." You turned around to take a glimpse of the mess once again but Minho quickly grabbed your chin with only pads of his fingers and made you look back at him. "I'll take over from here, you get rest now."

Just as he was about to stand up from the couch you grabbed him by his sleeve and almost agressively pulled him right into your arms, crashing in the tightest, breath taking hug as you truly couldn't believe you had him by your side. Just when you thought you crossed his boundaries by that sudden action and started to loose your grip on him, he dragged you right back to him like he was waiting for this moment to happen. His heart pressed to yours, he definitely could tell how fast and heavy its beating right now. Both of yours eyes closed, you just enjoyed this such intimate moment, very first one since you've moved in together. Neither you or him dare to make a move in fear of ruining this beautiful scene.

"Thank you," you murmur into his neck, so quietly you're not even sure he heard it. "only you can endure me as your roommate. How are you not tired of this?" Chuckle leaves your mouth but you quickly tone it out in case he responds, Well, I am actually tired.

"Because you're the only one that can endure me, too." He pulls out of the hug, though he doesn't move too far away, being so close to your face you could feel his minty breath on your nose. "I guess it's just the way things go."

Next thing your brain processes is his perfect lips landing on yours in swift motion. Suprisingly they're not rough, not even a little bit, they're so soft you barely feel them at first. Your heart goes up your throat for a mere second, dropping back down the moment he caress your cheek gently with his warm hand, now covered in the tiniest layer of sweat caused by the adrenaline. When your body finally understands what's going on, you lean into him completely, hand going up on the back of his head, tangling into his soft, dark hair and Minho takes is as a sign to continue, now pressing his lips onto yours with more force, making sure you feel them properly. A sigh of relief leaves both of your mouths and you smile into the kiss. When you eventually just slightly pull away from each other, faces still close, you notice new emotion making its way into his eyes, overtaking the rest as he studies every part of your face carefully. It's love. His eyes are full of love. Its so intense like it just have been freed from his chest after months of hiding in the deepest corners of his heart.

There's still so much you don't know about him and there's so much he doesn't know about you, but the gate has opened now and there's no turning back. You don't know what any of this means yet, but you can think of it tomorrow. Or in a month. Or in a year.

For now it's just you and him. And that's what matters the most in the world.

1K notes · View notes