Pairing: Idol Minho X Fem Reader

pairing: idol minho x fem reader

synopsis: you drunk text minho and accidentally send him something you shouldn’t

genre: idek- a little angsty? implied smut?

word count: ~1.3k

warnings: drinking.. is that all?

this was a request (i have so many i’m trying to work on rn be patient with me pls) this one was my favorite and i just had to write it first. such a great idea. 💕 obviously this is a fictional story, but i feel like i need to preface this one with that disclaimer because if this were real, our sweet minho would be in loads of trouble. 😅

i hope you like it @softkissfelix

masterlist

“another!” you shout, holding up your shot glass and clinking it against your friends’

you throw back the shot, scrunching up your face at the taste, before letting out a loud cheer and a giggle. you felt all fuzzy. warm and giddy. you needed this. after everything that happened with your ex, you needed a night out with your friends.

“so tell us everything.” your friend slurred at you from across the table. “what happened with you two?”

normally that question would sting, would feel like a stab in the gut, but you were so drunk that the question only made you giggle.

“he was mad that i like stray kids.” you told them. the table erupted into laughter.

“he dumped you because you like a kpop group?” your friend laughed.

you sloppily nodded. “yeah. he didn’t like that i had them on bubble. he saw a message from Lee Know pop up on my phone and he-“ hiccup “he freaked.”

another round of laughter made its way around the table. “what a loser.” one of your friends said.

“yeah. how insecure can he be?” another added.

“honestly, Lee Know would never treat you that way.” another joked, causing the laughter to grow louder.

ding

“speak of the devil.” you said, looking down at your phone.

“what? does he want you back now? is it him apologizing?”

you shook your head no. “no, i blocked his number. it’s Lee Know.” you giggled, turning your phone to show them his bubble message. it was just an extreme close up of his food and the message ‘맞춰봐 (take a guess)’ soon followed. you typed out your response to him, like he would ever see it, but instead of guessing what food he was eating, you typed out your phone number and the words ‘text me’ with a heart emoji. and before your drunken brain could become aware of the possible consequences to that action, you hit send. locking your phone, you shoved it back in your pocket.

“another shot!” your friend yelled to the bartender.

•

your keys clattered to the floor, jingling loudly in the hallway. “shit” you mumbled. carefully bending over to pick them up, swaying on your feet. you tried yet again, for the fourth time, to shove the key in the lock. by some miracle you managed to do it this time, unlocking the door and practically falling into your apartment. you drunkenly kicked off your shoes and stumbled to your room, falling on your bed.

you lay there, wanting your clothes off, but the room is kind of spinning. you manage to kick your pants off, and somehow you unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side.

now that you’re alone again, and the apartment is so quiet, you notice his absence. his stuff is all gone, his side of the bed empty. the bandaid that the alcohol and your friends managed to put on your wound has lost all of its stick and slowly falls to the ground. your world shatters again, your heart splintering. you think maybe you should unblock his number and call him to apologize. tell him that you’ll cancel your bubble subscription.. and you can put your Leebit in the closet or something. your eyes well up with tears. instead of shoving him in the closet, you pull Leebit closer to your chest and scrunch your eyes shut tight, fighting the urge to sob.

ding

your eyes fly open, your arm grasping around for your phone. you find it on the floor, in the pocket of your discarded pants. you bring the phone to your face, reading the notification.

—private number: hello?

it was your ex. it had to be. he got a new number to text you from because you blocked his old one. but why was it private? your drunken mind couldn’t find the will to care about that question, instead opting to sloppily type out a reply that was almost illegible.

“helo in soo sorry.” you typed.

—private number: why are you sorry? why are your texts so sloppy? have you been drinking?

“yup. k went out woth some friends. i miss you.” you replied.

—private number: are you home safe now? did you eat? drink some water.

you smiled at his message. how sweet. he never sent messages like that before. never seemed to care that much about you before. he must miss you too. you sat up, slipping your shirt off and throwing it on the floor to join your pants and bra. you were nude except for some lace panties. you managed to snap a couple of pictures. scrolling through them, past all the blurry ones, you decide on one and text it to him.

*attached image* “i made ut home safer, see? come over. 😘” you sent. minutes passed with no response. you were starting to get anxious, thinking maybe you should send another picture, maybe he didn’t get the message. but before you can do so, your phone dings again.

—private number: woah woah woah. i’m not sure if i should be seeing that.

you were starting to sober up now, worry twisting in your gut.

“what do you mean? you’ve seen it a million times. you don’t like it now?” you reply.

—private number: i have definitely never seen that before. how old are you? should i be worried? maybe this was a bad idea.

you were so confused. what is he talking about?

—private number: of course this was a bad idea. chan hyung told me not to text a number sent to me on bubble.

it was like a lightbulb went off over your head. just like in the cartoons, it clicked on and buzzed softly. you remembered the message you sent to minho on bubble when you were at the bar. drunk you is very brave apparently. what are the odds that he would have seen that message though? and the odds are even smaller that he would actually text you. this can’t be happening. you’re passed out drunk and this is all some elaborate drunken nightmare your brain is conjuring up. and you sent nudes. you almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of it all. did you send Lee Min-Ho nudes?

“Lee Know?” you texted, feeling silly.

—private number: before i answer that question, answer mine.

“i’m 27.” you replied.

—private number: thank god. you can’t just send stuff like that. are you trying to ruin my career? i thought you liked me.

“is this really Lee Know? no way.”

—private number: i assure you, it is.

“prove it.” you say. “send a picture to your bubble right now.”

after a couple moments your phone sounds off with a ding. a bubble message appears and when you click on it, you find a photo of a very annoyed looking Minho.

—private number: proof enough?

your heart dropped to your stomach, which was filled with butterflies but at the same time you thought you may throw up.

“OH MY GOD.” send. “IM SO SORRY.” send. “I PROMISE I DIDNT KNKW IT WAS TOU. I THOUGHT IT WAS MY EX. DONT LOOK .” send.

—private number: ㅋㅋ you’re cute.

“oh my god. i am so so so sorry. i promise i did not send that to you on purpose. i would never put you in that situation. please forgive me.” you rambled.

—private number: ㅋㅋ this is so funny. its okay.

“it is definitely NOT okay.” you argue.

—private number: i didn’t mind the picture. in fact, i may have another look. if that’s okay with you.

what? what did he just say? you read the text again and again. yup. this was definitely an alcohol induced dream.

—private number: i like your panties.

•••

an: a cliffhanger! ah i’m sorry! i had to end it there. i was getting toooo carried away. 😅 part 2 is here 💕

TITLE: Play Fight

PAIRINGS: Hyunjin x Jisung x f!reader

SUMMARY: Hyunjin and Jisung remain stumped at what unfolded during a game of dirty truth or dare with you. There's no going back from it. No ignoring the obvious layout of what naturally happens next between the three of you under one roof where Jisung's needs get the better of him and Hyunjin's dream becomes a reality. A continuation of Play Bite.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, hints of voyeurism/exhibitionism, swearing, oral sex (f!receiving and giving), unprotected sex, messy sex, dirty talk, porn w/plot, making out, nipple play, hints of oral fixations, begging, orgasms, deepthroating, very vague hint of cum eating, creampie, reader says 'stop' but doesn't mean it in a way where she wants to stop having sex or isn't enjoying it (she says it out of the overwhelming sensation from needing to orgasm).

🏷️LIST - @leftkittenface @twinklix @meilix @weareapackofstrays @elizalabs3 @goblin-waifu @imnotjjini0325 @livzsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @itsthatbri @20minsat180degrees @groovygroovyhyunjin @stayconnecteed @chillichillicrabcrab23 @valibals @oiikaro @galamxy (I also added people who were interested in part 2 just in case)

MASTERLIST - Play Bite (First Part)

A/N: this is just pure, filthy smut. I’m hoping I tagged everyone! Thank you all for waiting patiently! 🩷 This has been checked over a couple of times but I’ll check over it once more in the morning for any mistakes etc! x

The blood running through Jisung's body had frozen over. Stiff with shock, his eyes are still glued to the screen of your phone - at the message his best friend just sent through to you. As a result, a million and one questions fire around Jisung's brain in such a short amount of time. 

The first and most important thing was deciphering whether you and Chan were together. In his mind, there was no way. No way. Chan had recently come out of a long-term relationship and even said so himself the other week that he wasn't looking for another one any time soon. That he has zero plans to dive back into the dating scene for a long time.

Not to mention, you wouldn’t do anything as terrible as cheating. Jisung trusts that and his friends wholeheartedly. 

That seemed to be his only saving grace from wanting to justify his next actions, or at least Hyunjin's, because as soon as Jisung managed to peel his eyes from the screen, he catches full sight of his two friends, lip locked. 

You were still in between Hyunjin's legs, slightly twisted around in order to reach his mouth whereas he leans down just a bit to help. His hands were dangerously close to the waistband of your underwear - your underwear which had been soaked through after getting yourself off in front of them minutes ago.

Jisung still couldn't believe he witnessed that, nor what he's witnessing right now.

It was clear that the game of truth or dare had been derailed and preoccupied by a more pressing matter. As Jisung listens to the wet sounds of your mouths moving, he feels the familiar, aching throb in his pants. A reminder that he's still hard and has been for a while.

It only gets worse for him when he watches Hyunjin eventually slide down the front of your damp underwear, feeling how warm and slick you are. It doesn't take long for his fingers to lather up nicely and ease over your sensitive clit.

This is his dream unfolding.

The way you silently plead for Hyunjin to fuck you with his long fingers by opening your legs is hampered when Jisung inches closer to the pair of you. This time in between your bent legs. Hyunjin regrettably peers up and away from you for a second, the pads of his fingers still rubbing delicate barely-there circles over your clit.

"I wanna taste you," he says, leaning forward and closer, his doe eyes gazing pleadingly.

Hyunjin removes his hand from your pussy and holds his slender, glossy fingers up to his friend's mouth. Your cum is glazed over his digits, sticky thin strings that connect his middle and ring fingers, gleaming desirably for Jisung who shuffles forward eagerly to take them in his mouth, suckling and licking everything he’s being offered. 

But it's not enough for him.

"So good," Jisung murmurs as if he's under the influence after Hyunjin retracts his fingers. "But I need more than that. Let me taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

You cower half of your face into Hyunjin's chest with embarrassment, trying to hide the flush of red his comment brings out in your cheeks. He uses his other hand to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“Alright,” you give an affirming nod to Jisung who inflates with joy on the inside. 

He leans forward once more, this time to kiss you; slowly yet heated and needy for each other. There's an equal division of lust between you and him the moment his lips connect with yours.

As he breaks away from you, his eyes lock with Hyunjin for a few lingering moments before the pair of them share yet another kiss. Neither of them cared too much about it or what it was going to mean afterwards. All they knew is that they liked it and would have no trouble doing it again.

“You’ll get your turn,” Jisung teases, licking once over Hyunjin’s plush lips. “Maybe.” 

Hyunjin scowls at him, but with that in hand, Jisung finds the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your thighs, all the way down to your ankles, and off. The wet mess you left for them has Jisung salivating like some rabid dog. He lowers himself onto his elbows where his hot breath washes over your inner thighs. He hasn’t started and already has you pressing back further into Hyunjin, further into his crotch where he needs you the most.

That first point of contact makes your skin tingle. He presses chaste kisses into your skin. To truly bury his mouth into your pussy, Jisung snakes his hands around your thighs, gripping lovingly into your flesh. It helps anchor him and you more importantly. You squirm and quiver, legs trembling as he begins to kitten lick over your clit, using it to wet you up even more. 

Your eyelids flutter closed, focusing on the sensation, “y-yes…feels…”

“How does it feel?” Hyunjin begs the question for you.  

It feels like nothing else you’ve ever felt before. There have been a couple of times where a man will give you good head, but not like this. Jisung knows what he’s doing. He’s taking advantage of your over sensitive pussy, switching up his tongue game by sucking and flicking to keep you just above the edge. His skills have you gripping onto Hyunjin’s thighs that still cage around your body. 

“Good, feels good,” you swallow, feeling and listening to the way Jisung has come to lap everything up in between your legs. 

Hyunjin reckons he can make you feel better too and decides to use his hands to slide underneath your shirt. He gently supports your back with one hand while Jisung continues to eat you out. The other hand unclasps your bra, giving Hyunjin free access to grope your tits under your shirt once it’s removed. By then, you’re able to lean back into his body and continue to melt from the sensations.

Strained mewls and moans tear up your throat when Hyunjin uses his index fingers and thumbs to pinch roll your nipples. He savours the pathetic whimpers you make when he starts rolling them too. You struggle helplessly against him, pressing your chest up only for him to pinch them just a little bit harder. It’s like you wanted him to stop, but you also needed him to keep going.  

“Hyun…jin, s’too much, can’t-“

He finds himself nuzzling against your face, kissing your cheek here and there as an attempt to touch you as much as he can. He lingers on the fact that you’re barely able to speak in full sentences which does something to his brain. Like he and Jisung have reduced your mind and body to a point where it only knows and seeks pleasure. There’s no room for you to be able to speak when words can’t even describe what you’re feeling. 

“Can’t what baby?” He asks. “I’m sure you can take it.”

Jisung’s mouth throws your mind off of answering Hyunjin, right when he starts flicking his tongue right over the heavily stimulated bud of nerves. Your thighs firmly clamp around Jisung’s head, trembling from its effect that Hyunjin can even feel you quiver from behind. 

Turns out his best friend is good with his mouth. Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder what other use it has. 

“Cumming, please I need to cum,” you beg desperately.

One of your hands makes it through Jisung’s dark hair, something to hold onto to brace yourself for that intense round of pleasure. The assault from his tongue leaves you no choice but to tug and pull on his hair until Jisung himself starts moaning into your pussy from the pain - good, inviting pain. 

“Nobody’s stopping you baby. “Gonna cum for us? Again?” Hyunjin urges gently.

“Yes!” You whine pleadingly. “Mm, r-right there!”

The closer you are to the edge of your orgasm, your hips start to make subtle upward movements. Almost like you’re trying to ride his face, which Jisung welcomes, would invite actually. It’s what he wants anyway - for you to use his face until you cum all over it. 

“Don’t stop…please don’t stop, fuck!” You plead hysterically.

The pressure has you feeling like you’re about to explode into bits. Your thighs continue to squeeze unapologetically around Jisung’s head, fearing for a second that you might crush him. Meanwhile, Hyunjin’s fingers and thumbs roll and tug on your nipples. The sensations easily sweep over you, compelling deep moans and small yet shaky screams from your throat as you cum loudly. 

“Good girl,” Hyunjin exalts you with praise. “Sound so pretty…”

Jisung could’ve kept going had your body not wanted to completely give way. But he does slow down his pace for you to finally linger in what was one of the best orgasms you’ve had from getting head. It makes you melt into Hyunjin’s front, your muscles twitching yet relaxed at its best. 

“Christ…” you swallow, breathing heavily in big pockets of air. “Jisung.”

The man finally pops his head back up, a sight for you to absorb with the way his mouth is covered in your juices. The humiliation settles under your skin when you see the mess you’ve made on his face. As if he could care any less, not with the content grin he’s wearing. 

When you start descending from your high, it dawns upon you that you’ve had a total of two orgasms so far and not once have you returned the favour to Hyunjin and Jisung. Particularly Hyunjin, who hasn’t had much of your body in comparison to Jisung. He’s been sitting behind you patiently, taking all of the brunt force you made while his friend was going down on you. 

Amid the orgasmic haze in your brain, you push past it as best you can to speak, “condoms.”

Jisung nods mindlessly, trying to get the image of you looking so fucked out, out of his head. However, he snaps out of his daze and springs to his feet. He flounders around, thinking that if he doesn’t hurry up and find them, you’re both going to leave.

As Jisung is preoccupied, it gives you an opportunity to sit and turn around and face Hyunjin for the first time in half an hour.

“Lay back,” you mumble to him. 

“Hm?”

He tilts his head innocently that it makes you wonder if he’s just pretending or genuinely too dumbfounded with what you’re about to do. You shuffle forward, in between his legs still and kiss him gently. His parted mouth is so plump and supple that it makes you bite down on his lower lip and tug, forcing a tiny whimper out of him. 

“Condoms. Okay. Hyunjin, where are your condoms?” Jisung circles back to ask, checking the coffee table, the fruit bowl, even dipping into Hyunjin’s room and tearing open the drawers to his bedside table to check.

After coming up short, he returns to the lounge to see your mouth around Hyunjin’s cock, drawing long, deep, and slow strokes. He swallows hard, watching for a few moments too long until he pulls himself out his daze.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung calls out again. 

Hyunjin’s eyes roll back when you sink your entire mouth down onto his length as he grips the rug beneath him, “d-don’t have any here.”

“Shit,” he groans and strides over to the bench where he left his wallet when he first walked in.

Amongst his cards and loose change where he would also keep a few condoms for occasions like this, were unfortunately not there. Out of all the instances where he’s had spontaneous sex, this is the only time he wishes he really had them on hand. 

“I haven’t got any either-” he frowns but all he gets is a strained, echoed whimper when you deepthroat Hyunjin’s length. “Fuck…” 

Visibly spaced out for a moment, Jisung starts acting a bit like Bambi when he wants to start walking; struggling to put one foot in front of the other as he makes his way back over to you both. From this angle, he’s able to see Hyunjin in a different light. His wavy brown hair covering most parts of his face, knuckles now another shade of morbid white as he nearly shreds the carpet beneath him with his nails.

Jisung thought he looked good - fuckable. But he excuses that thought for the time being. 

“Y/N, please…fuck, not…not gonna last if y’keep doing that,” Hyunjin barely manages to get his words out, having to fight them every single time you swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. “I-I’ll cum, fuck.”

For a moment, you pull back from his cock, replacing it with your hand instead to keep up the pleasure you initiated. His body contorts and writhes, the back of his head pressing painfully into the ground. He must be an easily over-stimulated type. 

“Fuck me then,” you say to him. 

He blinks hazily, like he’s just waking up from a nap, “h-huh? But you - the-“

You were not going to listen to what he’ll start babbling about so this time, you fully abandon his dick and turn around to face Jisung who had been silently watching you both from behind. The obvious, rock hard tent in his pants was alluring. If you didn’t have other motives of getting him off first, you would be in his lap, grinding your wet pussy over his bulge. 

From the way he’s been acting, you know he’d let you too. 

Jisung gazes into your eyes like a snake that’s being charmed. He’s wondering what your next move is when your lips inch closer to his even though it’s easy to predict a kiss.

That being said, you arch your back, giving Hyunjin a not so discrete choice to fuck you. Presenting your wet hole to him as an invitation. It was a devious move but nothing in comparison to the grand scene of things. That being you and two of your best friends touching each other in ways that friends don’t normally touch. 

It isn’t ‘friend behaviour’ if you reach down into Jisung’s lap and palm his hard, neglected cock through the strains of his pants. It’s not ‘friend behaviour’ if Hyunjin moves himself closer to you so that he can delicately graze the pads of his fingers over your dripping slit. Friends don’t do this, yet, as friends, none of you could care less. 

All that mattered was sex and to be touched. To be relieved of the delicious pressure that you want to keep just so that the feeling of ‘cumming’ lasts forever. But, you all know that you can’t have too much of a good thing. You can’t get greedy when Hyunjin rises to his knees, stroking his cock a couple of times in hand. Or when he starts slicking up his length in between your wet folds and slowly pushing in. 

“S-Shit,” you gasp, causing your hand to stall over Jisung’s dick right as you were about to free him from his pants. 

His cock starts filling you up little by little. Hyunjin presses in a few centimetres then pulls back out. He does that until your pussy swallows up his entire dick nice and snug, reaching the base of it. With the amount of prep you’ve had so far, it made the process all the more easier to take the amount of inches Hyunjin packs. 

From what you can feel inside you and what you’re palming beneath your hand, it was simple to conclude that Jisung and Hyunjin were relatively similar in size. When you pull the waistbands of Jisung’s pants and underwear down, you were right in your assumption. Beads of pre cum had been leaking pitifully from his angry red tip and down his shaft, most of which were soaked up by the fabric of his clothes. 

“Fuck baby,” Jisung whines, sucking in long draws of breaths when your hand wraps around him and slowly tugs. “So good…so hot.” 

A small, tired smile spreads on your face, but his compliment does not distract you from the fact that Hyunjin has begun to thrust slowly, along with applying a soft grip on your hips. With that, you lower your mouth down onto the tip of Jisung’s cock. He hisses and grits his teeth, the sensitivity he feels is already overwhelming.

Even more so when you start taking him as much as you can. Thankfully Hyunjin’s thrusts help you take more of him too, bucking forward from the force he starts putting in. 

“Bet that…pussy feels just as good as your mouth,” Jisung says breathlessly, carding some of your hair out of the way. He bundles as much of it as he can for you, holding it in a subtle grip on top of your head. 

"It does, like warm velvet”, Hyunjin says to himself in his head as a response to his friend's comment. 

A hot, wet, and lush pocket that he has the privilege of fucking and not once did he ever fathom a possibility that is so real right now. He has to quickly snap out of his own head for a minute, distracted by that creamy ring around his cock being pushed back to the base of his cock when he slides his entire length in and out of you so fluidly. Taking him all the way. 

It’s like you were made for him…

For a second, Hyunjin was convinced you could hear his thoughts as you decided to deepen the arch in your back. His cock now repeatedly hitting a delicious angle that makes your thighs involuntarily shake each time his tip connects with it. The shockwaves of pleasure start to surge and pool inside you, waiting to be released. 

“Fuck…yes, baby,” Hyunjin mutters to himself, making the mistake of looking down at where his cock is vanishing in and out of. “Taking us so fucking well.” 

You moan around Jisung’s length at the praise, prying more strained whines and cries from him that fills Hyunjin’s ears. It has so much effect on him that he has to look up and see for himself. Jisung looks and is fucked out, like he’s already on the verge of cumming which is a given considering that you’re taking all of him like a champ. The wet sounds your mouth makes as it glides up and down Jisung’s cock sounds just as good as it feels. 

Every now and then you suck on his tip when you need to come up for some air, still making sure he has some contact before you mercilessly sink back down again. Once Jisung started rutting slightly into your mouth, tightening the grip he has on your hair, and his loud, quick paced breathing from above, you knew. You knew he wanted to cum. 

“Close, fuck I’m so close,” he swallows, biting down on his bottom lip as you bob your head up and down. “Gonna cum Y/N…gonna make me cum.” 

Hyunjin observes attentively from behind. Watching in the moments leading up to Jisung’s orgasm, the way he keels forwards, crying out in a series of loud moans as you continue to bring him to the edge, “yes, yes, yes, fuck yes!”

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his cum spurting out rhythmically and orgasming so hard that his body shivers over. Not once do you let up, even after his orgasm and even the fact that you have a hypothetical eye on your own which Hyunjin has been curating for you. The pressure has been built so high that it’s hard not to feel like you’re about to explode. Similar to the way you could tell Jisung was about to cum, Hyunjin could easily tell when you were. 

You had gotten noisier, even with a dick in your mouth that barred you from using any words, it was obvious the way you were feeling. Your plush walls were starting to tighten themselves cosily around Hyunjin, gripping onto him so that he wouldn’t leave. 

As you finally peel back from Jisung’s cock, a long line of spit connects you and his length, mixed with his warm cum. But in a matter of seconds, you’re already there too. You pull back entirely, now a panting, gorgeously ruined mess who’s getting railed the way people can only dream of.

Something possesses Jisung to lean forward and kiss you sloppily, quickly evolving into some messy, wet makeout. He can taste himself in your mouth, exchanging the salty residue that invites him to linger on your lips a little longer, unbothered about the fact that you’re about to be swept over by an intense orgasm. 

Only when you start breathing heavily and quickly, Jisung decides to pull away and witness the event unfold. He watches Hyunjin fuck you to your orgasm while his mind is tormented by the way that you look. How his cum mixed with your spit starts drooling out of your mouth when you start crying out from such concentrated pleasure. It feels like Hyunjin just pulled a pin to a bomb inside the pit of your stomach. 

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin groans, pulling your body back and forth onto his cock by your hips. “So fucking close.”

“S-Stop - I…cumming, fuck, I’m cumming-” your words are cut short as pleasure shoots throughout your body, fingernails digging into the carpet.  

Everything inside of you feels heightened and rocked with a euphoria so immeasurable that your entire body cannot do anything but still and take what Hyunjin gives you. His steady pace doesn’t waiver. Despite the fact that he’s seconds away from busting a warm load inside you, he’s capable of not switching things up drastically so that you get a steady flow of pleasure. 

As your walls quiver and spasm around his cock, Hyunjin coats them in a hot thick white. His bruising grasp on your hips is the other outlet he has to mitigate such an intense orgasm. As for you, all you can do is absorb yours. To take his entire cock so greedily when you cum hard that your vision has gone all blotchy. You’re seeing cosmics of tiny glistening stars on Jisung who does nothing but watch out of desire to see you lose your mind so easily. To see you writhe and tear up from how strong the ecstasy is. 

“Yes! Fuck, Hyunjin!” You scream out, moaning loudly around his apartment that both of them are sure his neighbours will hear. 

But it’s not like he cares if he ever receives a future noise complaint. It’d be an honour to know that he fucked you so good that everyone in his complex could hear you. What a dream that would be; to make you feel good all the time. A very distant dream at that. 

“That’s it,” Hyunjin sighs out when your body gives one final shudder, giving you some shallow thrusts to help ease you down. “Good girl.” 

Hyunjin pulls out slowly with a hiss as a giddy feeling in his gut that makes his mind twist when he sees his cum mixed with your juices, leak from your hole. So captivated by it that he only starts to realise that you need to lie down. Your body does what it feels like and collapses steadily onto the carpet beside Jisung who lies back with you. It’s not long before Hyunjin follows suit and rests by your other side too. 

The three of you then laze on the floor, sticky bodies meshed together for the time being as Hyunjin comes up to spoon you from behind and Jisung from the front. Minutes tick by as you all relax peacefully. You could’ve almost fallen asleep like this until Jisung, who was ‘just closing his eyes’, flashed them open and looked dead into your soul. 

“Why’d you need a condom if you let him fuck you raw?” he asks out of nowhere, suddenly expecting a long and complicated reason from you. Despite the filthy things you guys just did, his question seemed so amusingly crass. 

“Because I wanted you both to fuck me…at the same time,” you murmur tiredly yet so honestly. “Needed at least one for that.”

“Oh, r-right,” he stutters, then plays it cool. “Usually I carry them with me but-“

“You ran out?” You guess, cutting him off. “Whore.”

Jisung went to open his mouth to object your claim until Hyunjin reached over and covered it with his big hand, “shut up please.”

Hyunjin’s closes his eyes again but his brain now whirs with the thought of what could’ve been. Not that it mattered now. He enjoyed himself and he’s sure that you and Jisung did too who could not think of any words that come close to describing how he feels. His head was clear of thoughts - all except one. Chan. Or at least, what’s going on between you and Chan. Not that it was any of his business.

Nonetheless, he was interested but decided to keep it to himself for now. So while your eyes closed once more, Jisung turns around and reaches for your phone to unlock it before heading to the message he sent to Chan, and the one he received from him too. He checks it over one final time to be sure that what he read earlier was correct.  

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x 

He still struggled to believe it. But, with that in mind, Jisung deletes the message and forgets that it ever happened knowing that the next time he sees the others, he’ll ask if they too know anything about what’s going on between you and Chan. 

For the time being, he relishes in the afterglow of one of the best nights he’s had. To rest peacefully in the warmth and comfort of his two friends.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

-

A/N: 060124 - Play Right

🪅 anon againnnn!!!!!!!! Thinking abt reader and chan visiting reader's childhood home when chan gets so needy he begs to put 'just the tip in' while theyre in reader's old bedroom😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 but eventually he fAILED and aAAaGgHhhH

𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 - bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 2.3k

sw: daddy kink, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, bang chan’s big dick, degradation (a bit), dumbification, dom!chan, sub!reader

as soon as chan pushes the duvet off of your legs, you know where this is going. his fingers dart up the skin newly exposed to him in your sleep shorts, until he’s cupping a handful of your inner thigh and inching closer towards you. it’s not hard to be close to you - your childhood twin single is anything but spacious, yet you still jolt in surprise when his breath fans over your neck.

“you look so cute,” chan mumbles. you feel his big nose pressing into your skin and you gasp when he kisses just below your ear, nibbling your lip when he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. “will you let me play with you, baby?”

“c-chan,” you try, but you know your answer. it’s always yes. enthusiastically, actually. “my parents are in the other room, i don’t- i don’t know if i can be quiet, and-“

“i’ll just push the tip in, yeah?” he says, pulling his face away from his neck. the room is darker than usual, only your lamp providing a semblance of some light, but you can see his dark hair and how it’s forming curls after his shower. his eyes are even darker, plush lips in a teasing, almost questioning smirk. he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. “just the tip, baby. i promise.”

“mm- mm, just the tip?” you question, but your thighs are already falling apart. your toes curl underneath the duvet, and you let him pull your shorts down with two thumbs hooked into the waistband. he groans when he sees you. you know you’re wet, you always are when you’re in bed with chan, and he can’t help but to take his hand from your face and swipe over your clit. you whimper, soft and barely audible, and chan licks his lips.

he’s just in his boxers, expensive vetements ones that always make you feel bad when you’ve gushed all over them after a dry humping session. the light coming from the lamp is a sweet orangey-pink that highlights his abs as he shuffles over and settles between your legs, and you pull your sleep shirt up to expose your tits to him.

“you know just what i like,” chan coos, eyes fixated on your chest. your breasts jiggle with every stuttery breath that comes from your lungs, and you wriggle around impatiently while he pushes his boxers down strong thighs. “my good girl. daddy’s good girl, yeah?”

“yeah! yeah, ‘m daddy’s good girl,” you nod eagerly. he chuckles, and your eyes widen when you see his cock. it’s nowhere near close to the first time you’re taking it, but chan’s big big big, thick and heavy with a pink mushroom tip that has you drooling. “r’ya gonna give it to me now, daddy? i wan’ it.”

“yeah, i’ll give it to you, baby,” he mutters, hand moving to grip his cock. he pumps it a few times, and you see a droplet of precum dribble to christen your fresh childhood bedsheets. he leans over you, cock still in one hand and his bicep tensed next to your head. he’s close like this, letting you see every freckle and mark on his face but before you can even consider kissing him he’s fucking his cockhead into you. your mouth drops into an o, a silent whine, and chan audibly laughs this time. “ah, there you go. there’s that sweet face.”

“i- you’re really hard, daddy,” you say, in lieu of saying anything else. your eyes flutter shut, and his cockhead fucks into you slowly a few times, all two or so inches. your pussy squelches audibly with every movement. chan huffs out a breath, and then you feel him slide another bit of his cock home. your eyes shoot open, blinking rapidly at his smug expression. “daddy! you said- you said just the tip!”

“i think you need more, don’t you?” he asks, eyebrow raised. his lips are curled in a teasing smile, and you try to deny it, try to shake your head and pout but he’s all too knowing. “you need daddy to play with your messy pussy, fuck it open with my cock until i’m breeding that hole. isn’t that right? tell me i’m wrong, baby.”

you whine, legs kicking around in your mini tantrum. chan catches your knee while you’re squirming, pushing it upwards until you’re forced to hold it back yourself. despite your confused expression, he pushes forward, and then his cock is filling you all the way to the base.

“i- ah, daddy?! daddy, it’s-“

“i know, i know,” he croons, leaning down to press his lips against yours. it’s a chaste kiss, almost an apology, but then he’s fucking into you so deep it has your eyes watering. he moves you around, pushes his chest to yours so your nipples rub against his hard pecs. with him this close to you, your clit rubs against his trimmed pubic hair in such a delightful way that you want to cry. “takin’ it so well, that’s my girl.”

“‘s big,” you slur, eyes rolling back into your head with every buck of his hips against yours. it is big, cock stretching your hole to the point it almost hurts - yet you love every second of it. your pussy gushes and makes its own noises of pleasure around your boyfriend’s length, and if it was any other situation he’d laugh at you. he won’t this time, though, not when you’re being his pliant little thing, wet and ready for him to tamper with.

his pace is slow, almost as if he’s using his thighs to bounce into you over and over, and your pussy flutters with it. chan grunts and moans deeply, quiet but still audible with how close he is. you huff little whimpers of your own, drooling all over your pillowcase.

“god, you’re so- this pussy’s so tiny, baby, i don’t know how you fit me in,” chan’s lips part, pants of air leaving his lungs. “messy, tiny fucking cunt. sloppy thing, you’re so perfect for me. my pretty angel and her cute little hole.”

“she likes you too,” you mumble, completely lost in the feeling of his cock inside of you. chan giggles at that, and you whimper when he adjusts you again, pushing both legs upwards to rest on his broad shoulders. he takes a quick glance at you, smiles when he sees you drooling on the pillow in a world of ecstasy, and then he’s fucking you senseless. you almost shriek, a loud gasp leaving you when his cock rams against your cervix, but chan’s hand moves to cover your mouth with godspeed.

“quiet, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod, eyes watery. his hand stays there, though, his own puffs of air leaving him with every thrust. “good girl. feel daddy’s cock, just take it.”

it’s so easy to get lost in it. the glide of chan’s cock inside of you is hypnotizing, your pussy drenching his shaft with every movement in and out and in again and you can’t help but let out tiny whimpers. you’re embarrassed, letting your boyfriend fuck you open so easily on your childhood bed but god does it feel good. your clit throbs with it, nipples sensitive and pebbled in the air of your bedroom, and you start to fuck yourself back on him without realising. it’s delicious, and you’re getting too loud, babbling and slurring your words.

“i- chan, chan, daddy! daddy, hnng-”

“ah, shit,” he curses, exasperated, and then he’s sliding his dick out of you. you want to whine, throw a tantrum, but his calloused palms come to your hips to flip you over. your face is pressed into the pillow like this, and chan pushes your head down harder for good measure. “you have to be quiet if you want me to keep fucking you.”

“i’ll be quiet,” you try, but your words are muffled in the fabric. you imagine he’s pumping his cock judging by the quiet grunts coming from his parted lips, and the thought of his cockhead leaking in his hand has you huffing in annoyance, pushing your ass backwards to grab his attention.

it works. “oh, fuck,” chan groans, and you feel his hands go to your ass. he grabs a handful of the flesh, kneading like a cat, and you jolt when his thumb rubs over your asshole. his thumb moves downwards, rubbing over the slight gape of your pussy from his cock, but then he’s smacking your ass with his other hand just for good measure. “this ass. fuckin’ delicious, daddy’s pretty girl.”

you whine, turning your head just a tad. “daddy, my pussy. don’t look at my ass, my- my pussy, daddy, i need you!”

“yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, and he’s crowding into your space all of a sudden. his body is firm and muscular on top of yours, and he knocks your thighs apart just a tad until he’s sliding home again with a way too loud noise of approval coming from your wet hole. you push your ass back further, and in any other situation chan wouldn’t allow it but he remains stationary, letting you fuck yourself onto his fat length.

“mm, it’s- daddy, you fuck me so good,” you moan, eyes rolling back into your head. chan’s hands grip at your waist, and he goes from pulling you back onto his cock to pinning you down and making you take it. it’s quick as a flash, the way his pace changes, and you can do nothing more but drool on the pillow and slur out some praises while trying to be quiet.

“slutty pussy,” chan remarks, and you gasp, nodding in agreement. you love when he talks to you like this, and he groans, leaning forward against you more to wrap one strong arm around your neck. it pulls your head back, cutting your airflow just enough to give you that ecstatic light headed feeling. his hips slap against your ass, creating a filthy noise in your childhood bedroom that has you feeling more than just slutty, and you can’t help the gushes of arousal your pussy lets out over it. “mm, daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy. i’m gonna fill it up, yeah? d’ya want that?”

“yeah, yeah! daddy, daddy,” you babble, drool slicking down onto chan’s forearm. it makes him chuckle, the mushroom tip of his cock pressing against your g-spot with every thrust, and you try to wriggle around on your bed to find the perfect position to grind your clit onto the mattress. chan lets you reposition yourself, and when your clit hits the sheets just right you’re sure you could cry. you gush and cry on chan’s cock, your pussy fluttering and sucking him back in on every outwards thrust. he’s going insane with it, groaning and grunting in your ear.

“fuckin- shit, grind your clit, baby,” he commands, and you whine, nodding. you’re almost feral grinding your pussy against the sheets and backwards onto chan’s cock, a high pitched noise leaving your mouth. “cum for daddy. i wanna feel this cunt squeeze my cock before i fill you up, c’mon.”

“ah, ah! ah, daddy, ah- daddy, dad- i’m gonna- hnng, i need-“ you need more, harder, more of his cock ramming into your g-spot and you’ll give him anything he wants.

he knows you too well. “yeah, y-yeah, i’ll fuck you harder, baby,” he mumbles, and his arm tightens around your neck. your teeth bite into your bottom lip painfully, and his cock hits you deep once, twice, forcing your clit down onto the mattress, and then you’re babbling your way through a full body orgasm.

“ah, cum- cumming! cumming, daddy, ‘m cumming,” you wail, toes curling and breath stuttering in your throat. your clit throbs with it, pussy dripping and gushing around your daddy’s big cock, and you try to fuck yourself back on it a little more. it’s like chan’s reading your mind, because he starts to fuck into you a little faster to ride it out.

“oh, baby. that’s a big one, mm?” chan coos, and you nod, breathless, still dizzy with it. he thrusts into you a few more times, hips slapping hard against your ass, and his hand goes to the small of your back to push you down further. you’re splayed on your front, pliant and sated, but your daddy still has to fill you up like he promised. “i got you. i got you, daddy’s gonna cum, baby.”

his hips slow down, like they normally do when he’s close, and you feel his shaft throb and twitch inside of you. he gasps, thrusts stalling completely, and then you feel his cum filling you up, thick and white and flooding your cervix until you feel like there’s no way there’s any left. you sigh through it all, tears biting at your eyes by the time he’s done, rocking your hips back to help him ride his own orgasm out.

“take it, take all of my cum. there we go, good girl,” he’s talking to try and soothe you, hand rubbing down your tired legs as he pulls his soft cock out. you want to move, to turn to kiss him, but chan’s already using his discarded shirt to clean you up between your legs. he’s soft and gentle on your abused pussy, and your daddy’s so sweet that he pulls your sleep shorts back up for you.

“i wan’ cuddle,” you murmur, still on your front. you’re not sure you can move, but chan chuckles, sidling up to you and pulling you to rest against his chest.

“you can cuddle,” he confirms, lips pressing a kiss against your hairline. “ya did so good for me, y’know? my good girl, daddy’s girl.”

you hum, feeling blissful and sweet. he knows exactly what you need afterwards, stroking his fingers up your clothed back. “i love you.”

“i love you too, baby.”

the arms make yet another appearance.....rip to @skzfaker and me

MINORS DNI. sucking on his fingers. minho's pov.

Sweet. That's how he'd describe you. His sweet girl. Even as you kneel on the floor with his fingers in your hot little mouth. Even as your eyes water from taking them a little too deep. Even as your lips glisten with spit.

He settles a little more into the couch cushions as you look up at him from your position between his knees. It's easier to spread a little more like this, adjust himself as his cock throbs in his sweats.

Then your fingers wrap around his wrist lightly, a comforting hold more than anything else. He was the one in control, pressing his fingers between your lips almost rhythmically as he prepares you to take him properly. He finds himself in a trance at a few points, fixated on the little facial expressions you make — on the way your eyes close and your nose scrunches when you're a little too eager.

And then there's your mouth. Warm, plush lips and hot little tongue getting his fingers all messy. It's the messiness he likes. His sweet girl all messy just for him.

A small sound slips from your throat, the kind of sound that makes him want to fall forward and press you into the floor. Fuck you into it. It's so fucking sweet.

"Alright?"

You blink at him, lashes fluttering. Then you nod, moist lips still wrapped around his fingers — unwilling to give them up.

Time slows in moments like these. He knows it's a memory forming; it's something he'll think about on night's you're gone, in lonely showers with the same fingers wrapped around his leaking cock.

He'll think about this. He'll remember how warm you are, how fucking warm and wet and sweet. He'll remember the little whines and whimpers as you wordlessly reassure him you love this almost as much as he does.

Then your bottom lip relaxes and your mouth is dropping open, tongue lolling out a little — the tips of his fingers resting on your slippery tongue.

"Fuck," he breathes, dragging his fingers down slowly over your bottom lip in awe.

Then he's hooking his finger under your chin and lifting your head a little more, forcing your mouth closed. You look at him in a way that stirs something heavy in his chest, like you're simply waiting for what he will do next. Trust. Love. He can't pinpoint it exactly, but it has him pressing the palm of his hand into his crotch — desperate not to spill into his pants.

It's a mistake. The moment he draws back from you — dropping his head back against the couch — you're crawling up onto his lap. He grips your hips before your get too close; before you put any pressure on his twitching cock.

"Wait," he gasps, eyes clenched tight.

You listen. Of course you do. His sweet fucking girl. He presses his wet fingers into your bare skin as he catches his breath, blindly finding the precious little sliver between your top and your underwear.

"Okay," he says eventually, blinking his eyes open as you fall over him — warm lips pressing to his neck before he can even lift his head. He savours it for a moment, the feeling of your body pressing him into the soft cushions — the wetness your lips leave on his skin.

Then he tangles his fingers in your hair and guides you away from his neck gently. He can see the mess you've made much better this close. Your lips are swollen, almost puffy. He's fucking incapable of preventing his mind from spiralling directly to how puffy your cunt looks when he's spent enough time with your legs around his head.

"You're so good," he murmurers before he's even aware of the thought crossing his mind. It's an involuntary slip of the tongue, his subconscious breaking free while he's distracted.

But then your head drops. Shy.

He tugs you forward, lifting your head and mashing his lips to yours. He's not good at words. Not when he's feeling this much. Never in the moments that fucking matter. He'd spent too long wishing it was different. Now he knows the best he can do to compensate is this: he shows you.

𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐢 ; 𝐥𝐦𝐡

🚨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐟𝐟 𝐢 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬, 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠… 𝐦𝐞 ;

genre: angst, smut, fluff | 18+, minors dni | ;

wc: around 12,1k ;

cw: non-idol!au ; husband!minho ; explicit sexual content (clit play, unprotected penetration, creampie) ; lots of crying ; infertility ; mentions of an unplanned pregnancy and a pregnancy scare ;

ikigai [ik-ee-guy], 生き甲斐 , japanese : a reason for being, the thing that gets you up in the morning ;

⛅︎

Minho stares at the small, wooden crib in the middle of the room and silently prays to the gods above that he too will get to feel this kind of joy soon. 

He’s happy for his best friend Chan and his wife, he really is, but it’s still hard to watch someone else living his dream and being constantly reminded that it’s not his turn yet, it’s not your turn. He instantly wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer as he fights back the tears that well up in his eyes when Chan picks up the small, whining creature wrapped in a soft yellow blanket from the crib. Chan looks at his baby with a gaze that holds all the love of the world, that much is very clear to Minho, and he keeps wondering what does it feel like, Chan, being a dad? But what he wonders the most, unfortunately, is will I ever get a chance to feel this kind of joy, too, someday? 

That’s a question neither him nor you can give an answer to. 

“Let’s go say hi to uncle Lino and auntie Y/N, shall we?” Chan speaks to the baby in a soft voice, then chuckles when his daughter blinks at him a few times and stirs, snuggled comfortably in her fluffy blanket. “Hi, uncles!” Chan coos at the baby once he’s sure you and Minho are both in her peripheral vision. She’s the cutest. Only a few weeks old, she looks just like her father - she even has his dimple.  

Both you and Minho coo at the baby as well, little Haru, and then Chan speaks again. “Do you want to hold her?” He asks his friend, but when he notices Minho’s panicked expression, he chuckles and looks at you, encouraging you with a nod. 

“Sure,” you smile at him, but Minho senses so much pain behind that smile, and the second little Haneul is in your arms, he already knows what you’re thinking. He notices the way your eyes well up with tears as you hold her and caress her puffy cheek as she stirs and looks at you with her cute, boba eyes. “Hi, Haneul,” you coo at her, “This is your cranky uncle Minho,” you giggle and Haneul’s curious eyes fall on Minho’s face. 

He dramatically gasps, pretending to be offended, “Me? Ah, Haneul, your auntie is a liar, she’s the cranky one,” he boops her little nose, “You don’t want to be around her if she hasn’t had her coffee in the morning.”

“Yah, you little sh-“

“Y/N, please, there’s a baby right here,” Minho scolds you with a playful grin on his face, then his gaze falls back on Haneul, who’s frowning, “See? Cranky, I told you,” he shrugs. Out of the blue, little Haneul bursts into a loud cry that catches Minho off guard. 

“Okay, enough time with the uncles,” Chan chuckles as he takes her in his arms, cooing and rocking her as he hums a soft tune, “Yah, Minho, you made my baby cry, ah.” When he notices Minho’s panicked expression, he just chuckles again and says, “Relax dude, I’m kidding. She’s just hungry.”

Will I be a good dad?,Minho can’t help but think as he watches Haneul relax in her father’s arms, her cute eyes light up when she sees the small bottle of milk. Will I be able to calm my child like that? Understand their needs, be their safe place?

“She’s so cute,” you murmur only for Minho to hear, “I want a baby, Minho…” he doesn’t miss the way your voice cracks, and he’s quick to wrap his arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

“Oh, jagi, I know,” he kisses you on the head, “I do, too.” His voice breaks as well, and it’s your turn to hug him now, caressing his back as you both watch Chan feed his daughter as he says something to the guys, Changbin and Felix, sitting next to him, watching the baby in awe. 

“I think I… I think I’d be a good mom?” Your voice comes out as a question, full of doubts, and he hears you sniffle, but you’re not looking at him - you know you’ll break down if your eyes meet his. 

He kisses you on the top of your head once more and lingers. “You’ll be a great mom. You’ll be the best mom in the world, jagi,” he whispers, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. 

He wants to reassure you, tell you everything’s gonna be okay and that soon you’ll have the family you’ve dreaming of for years, that you’ll finally be a mom and he’ll be a dad, but he can’t. How is he supposed to make a promise he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep? It’s not something he can control, it’s not something either of you can control. He feels so hopeless, like he’s failing you in some way, not being able to give you what you want the most. 

You’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now - a couple of years already, nearly three. 

The decision was mutual and came natural for the both of you - you moved in together when you were still in college, and it didn’t take long before the two of you started having baby fever, dreaming of the perfect mix of you and Minho running around the house. You decided to wait until after graduation. College came and went, and just like that, you and Minho started trying for a baby. A baby that never came. 

You’ve always wanted to become a mother. Minho, though, never fully realized how much he wanted to be a dad until he met you. Give you a child, a family, raise your little bundle of joy together, family vacations, the holidays together, him dressing up as Santa on Christmas Eve… He wants all of this, and he wants it with you. It wouldn’t make sense with anyone else - you’re the love of his life, his soulmate. 

“I love you so much, Minho,” you whisper, turning to look at him. 

He sees your teary eyes and wishes he could take the pain away, “I love you too, jagi.”

⛅︎

It’s familiar, but never fails to take your breath away, the feeling of Minho’s fingers on your skin - his long fingers brushing your body, making a shiver run down your spine as you arch your back under his touch. His lips are wrapped around one of your nipples, licking and sucking your hardened bud, occasionally scraping it using his teeth - his thrusts inside of you are slow and deep, his pace is steady, his movements fluid. 

His eyes are closed, small huffs coming out of his nostrils and he fists the bedsheets as he rocks his hips back and forth, steadily. His body blankets you, making you feel perfectly safe in his embrace. As he feels close to reaching his orgasm, he lets go of your nipple, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He shifts his weight on his elbow, placed on the side of your head, then you feel his other hand travel all the way through your body - his calloused fingers brush the side of your breast, then your stomach, then they briefly stroke your thigh, before you feel them on your pussy. Minho brushes your labia, hissing when he feels how beautifully your lips spread to welcome his length - only when his fingers are damp, pads entirely wet with your arousal, he touches your clit. 

“I’m- ‘m close, jagi… ‘m about to cum,” he chokes on his own words, rubbing your bud a bit faster, drawing tight, imaginary circles on it, the way he knows you like it. 

“‘M close too, please don’t stop,” you pant. Your toes begin to curl, and your thighs start to tremble as your breathing becomes more and more labored. “So close, so close,” you chant, whimpering under him, which encourages him to continue - it doesn’t matter if his wrist is starting to feel a bit swollen. 

He releases inside of you with a choked moan, filling you up with his semen - only after making sure you’ve come, too, of course. In fact, the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him, clenching around him, is what pushes him off the edge in the first place. The awareness that he’s the only one who gets you to feel you this way, to see this side of you - he feels so damn lucky. 

“I love you so much, my jagi,” Minho mumbles, his words are muffled against your skin. 

You catch your breath, running your hand through Minho’s dark hair, pulling it back from his forehead and face once he lifts his head to meet your gaze. His brown, boba eyes, are full blown as he stares deep inside your soul - he already knows what you’re thinking. He knows you so well, better than anyone else.

“I love you, Min,” you smile at him, but he can see the pain you’re trying to hide behind that smile, and it kills him. 

He shifts his body so that he gets off of you, careful not to cause you any discomfort nor pain as he  pulls out of you, not without pecking your lips once more, lingering for a bit. He lets his body fall on the mattress, his chest rising and falling quickly as he comes down his high. When he feels you move, he knows what’s about to happen next. You grab a pillow, his, because it’s thicker, and place it under your spine and back. Then, you lift your legs all the way up, resting your heels and calves on the wall. It’s supposed to work, they say -  help the reproductive system and increase your chances to get pregnant or whatever. You’re not really sure it’s true, though - you’ve been doing it for years and haven’t noticed any changes, and you most definitely haven’t gotten pregnant yet. 

Minho’s heart cracks a little when he hears you sigh. He runs his calloused fingers through your hair, smiles when he feels you lean in to his touch. “I’m gonna take a shower, okay?” He asks, and you nod. He leaves the room, disappearing inside the bathroom and hopping in the shower, shivering when the cold water hits his bare skin. 

He immediately notices something’s off with you when he returns to the bedroom - the way you quickly wipe your cheeks and the skin under your eyes gives away that you cried. His breath gets caught in his throat at the sight. As soon as you witness his presence in the room, you quickly sit up on the bed and smile at him - it’s a fake smile, he knows that, he knows you. Then, it’s your turn to hop in the shower while he changes the cum stained sheets and pillowcases. While he’s at it, he pulls out a clean pajamas for you to wear once you’re done. 

You’re quiet when you come back in the bedroom, and also when he blow-dries your hair - fidgeting with your rings or with your nails, lifting off the acrylic until one accidentally breaks and you cuss under your breath. You’re also quiet when you slip under the covers, next to him, throwing one leg over his lap and resting your head on his chest as his cologne fills your nostrils. You’re quiet… too quiet - unusually quiet. Minho hates it, he wishes you’d open up to him, tell you what’s going on inside your head, and then he hears it - a faint sniffle. 

And his heart cracks once again as his own eyes well up with tears. He pulls you closer, kissing you on the top of your head. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right, jagi?” Minho asks you, praying that his tone won’t betray him, praying that you won’t notice he’s on the verge of tears as well. He wants to be strong for you. 

You nod weakly, without uttering a single word, and he hugs you tighter. That causes you to burst into tears. Minho promptly wraps his arms around you, shifting so that your face is pressed against his chest as his hands pat and rub your back to soothe you, in hopes to get you to stop crying. “Shh, it’s okay, jagi, it’s okay. I’m here, hm?”

It takes you a while to finally calm down and stop crying. Minho doesn’t let go of you until you do. He doesn’t stop leaving kisses on your head, he doesn’t stop whispering soft words to you. 

“Min… Minho,” your voice trembles, muffled by his t-shirt. You sniffle, but don’t lift your head, incapable to look at him right now, especially since you’re about to tell him that… 

“Tell me, jagi,” Minho encourages you, speaking with a soft voice, toying with the ends of your hair, “talk to me, love.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, hugging him tighter as you fight back the tears. “Minho, why don’t we…” you take a deep breath, fisting his t-shirt, “why don’t we… take a break?”

Minho freezes. He’s not even sure if he’s breathing anymore at this point. 

“A break? From… from us?” It comes out as a whisper. His heart aches. He feels numb. He can’t lose you. 

“No, no!” You shake your head as a no quickly, and feel him sighing out of relief. And then - “From… from trying…” you clarify, the tears finally escaping from your eyes. 

Minho feels as if his heart just stopped beating in his chest. He blinks a couple of times, furrowing his eyebrows, breathing slowly. He feels a void in his chest he’s never felt before… you want to give up. He knows there’s nothing he can say to make the situation any better - it makes him feel terrible, hopeless, useless, worthless.

“Jagi…” his voice trembles, lips quivering. He holds you closer to his chest, wishing he could take away all your pain even though his own is eating him too. He doesn’t say anything else, respecting your decision. He bites on his lip so hard he can almost taste blood in his mouth, inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils. 

You’d started trying for a baby as soon as you’d graduated, and then Minho’d proposed to you. 

The two of you would fall asleep in each other’s arms, listing all the possible ways you could name your daughter or son. And then you’d go to bed wondering how your child would look - who would they resemble, you or Minho? Would they have his pretty boba eyes? Or maybe his perfect nose?

These thoughts hurt now. They’re not happy thoughts anymore, there’s no joy nor hope left in them, only pain.

“I don’t want to go through this again, Min…” you sniffle, “I just… I feel so hopeful every time I’m late and then… and then the hope just gets crushed whenever I see that single line on the test,” you sigh, swallowing the lump in your throat. A couple of tears slip from Minho’s eyes. “I just don’t want to feel this pain anymore, Min… it breaks my heart.”

And it breaks his heart as well, seeing you like this. He wishes he could ease all the pain, take it all away, put it all on his shoulders and carry it for you. He can do that. 

It’s when you feel something wet on your forehead that it becomes clear to you that Minho, too, is crying - his body is shaking weakly, it’s so subtle you almost don’t notice it at first. He sniffles when you hug him tighter, nuzzling your face in his t-shirt, kissing his chest. He feels terrible, he feels hopeless. He feels like he failed you in every possible way.  

“Jagi, I’m… ‘m sorry,” his words come out through shaky breaths. He pulls you closer, hugs you tighter. He doesn’t want to let go. “I’m so sorry, I… I want to give you the world, my jagi, I want to give you the family we’ve been dreaming of for so long…”

You lift your head to look at him, but he just buries his face deeper in the pillow. It’s a delicate moment for him, for the both of you, and he feels so vulnerable right now. There’s nothing wrong with that, but Minho prefers to deal with his emotions by himself, and you know that. All you can do for now is be by his side and love him unconditionally, like you always did. 

“I love you so much, Min…” you place a soft kiss on his jawline, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as the tears keep streaming down his face and he’s unable to stop them. “You make me the happiest. It’s just… it’s just all too much sometimes, you know? Let’s take a break for a while, maybe we’re just too stressed about this.”

He nods softly, but your words don’t ease the pain he’s feeling. They don’t fill the void in his heart. 

“Anything for you, jagiya.”

⛅︎

Chan’s wife is pregnant. Again. Their baby is not even six months old and yet Chan’s wife is pregnant with their second child. 

Minho hopes it’s a joke, but he feels his knees give in nonetheless when his older friend delivers the news to him. It can’t be possible. He blinks rapidly a few times, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d misheard his friend. Maybe he was distracted and misunderstood what Chan was trying to say, yeah?

“Yeah, she’s… she’s pregnant,” Chan repeats, and a wide smile spreads on his face. Minho’s heart aches, hit breath hitches. “A couple of months already, actually,” he looks and sounds genuinely over the moon, “can’t believe this cutie right here is gonna be a big sister soon,” he coos at the small baby in his arms before kissing her forehead. 

Minho feels bad. He wants to be happy for his friend, he really does, but… he can’t stop thinking about you. About how crushed you’re going to be when you find out. Because if Chan told him and the guys then his wife must’ve told you and the other girlfriends, right? A part of him hopes she didn’t, but he knows it’s just a wishful thinking, his. You’re going to be devastated - hell, you probably are already. 

And you are. 

Chan’s wife announces her second pregnancy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, pulling out the ultrasound from her bag, and you hate yourself for not being able to be happy for her. You are happy, it’s not that. However, it’s a bittersweet feeling, yours. You feel like the worst friend ever, because while the other girls are all happily squeaking and clapping their hands as they scoot closer to try to get a better look at the picture - you stay exactly where you are, your gaze lost, as your heart pounds in your chest.

“Oh! I didn’t know you and Chan were trying again,” Changbin’s wife congratulates her with a hug. She sounds so happy, they all do. You fake a smile, the void in your chest has never hurt so bad. 

“Oh we… we weren’t,” Chan’s wife admits with her cheeks slightly pink. Your heart drops, your hands start to shake. You feel your throat closing, you find it harder to breathe now. “We haven’t been exactly careful, you know? So I just knew there could be a chance and, well… here we are.”

They weren’t even trying. It just… happened. Why couldn’t it just happen to you and Minho? Why did you have to go through the heartbreak of seeing that stupid, single line on that plastic stick every month? All the vitamins, the keeping track of your ovulation cycle, the blood tests and medical checkups… It just happened, to them. They weren’t careful. They weren’t trying, it was just a coincidence. One day they fucked without a condom and then oops, pregnant, again. 

“We weren’t sure if we, uh… If we wanted to keep it at first,” Chan’s wife says, and you nearly drop the cup in your hands as your heartbeat picks up its pace, “but we’ve talked a lot about it and we think we’re ready.”

You need air. You can’t breathe. It hurts too much. You need to leave.

⛅︎

Something’s off with Minho when he comes home. He takes his clothes off and changes into his pajamas without uttering a single word. When he slips under the covers, he’s still quiet. You know him, you’ve known him for years - you sense there’s something on his mind. He’s usually like this whenever he’s had a bad day at work. He still puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head, and you can hear him sigh. 

And you feel the exact same way. 

“Min…” you mumble, scooting even closer, resting your head on his chest. 

“My jagi…” he makes himself comfortable, the pads of his calloused fingers gently brushing the skin of your arm. That’s when he hears you sniffle, and his eyebrows furrow. “Hey, hey now, what’s up?” He asks you, placing two fingers under your chin to lift your head and meet your eyes. They’re watery. 

“It’s… it’s nothing, it’s just-“ your voice trembles, and you can’t stop the tears from falling from your eyes as Minho’s stare deep into your soul, “she’s…”

You don’t have to finish the sentence you started, because he already knows what you’re talking about - who. Your face is completely wet, and you keep sobbing and sniffling, and his eyes instantly widen as he sits on the bed with his back against the headboard, taking you with him. You wrap your hands around his wrists as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Once he’s finished, he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“I know,” Minho whispers, kissing your forehead. “I know, jagi, I know. I’m so sorry,” he says, even though you both know it’s not his fault. 

His arms wrap around your waist and pulls you closer so that your face is hidden in his neck, not caring at all about the fact that you’re soaking his shirt with your tears. He then starts toying with the ends of your hair, knowing it’s something that never fails to relax you. Back in college, he’d play with your hair for hours as you stressed over your exams, holding you tight exactly as he’s doing now. 

“It- it wasn’t even planned, Min,” you cry, and Minho can hear the way your heart breaks. “It’s just… why us, Minho? We’ve been trying for years…” 

Minho can’t answer your question. Technically, it’s no one’s fault, no one is responsible for your fate. 

“They- oh God, they weren’t even sure they wanted to keep it,” you sob into his chest, and Minho flinches because Chan didn’t tell him that. He can’t imagine how you must have felt, how you must feel - well, he can, but at the same time he knows that no matter how similar you feel about this situation, you’re handling it in two entirely different ways. 

As much as it pains him too, he knows he has to be strong for you. “Oh, jagi…” his hand moves up and down your back to soothe you, although it doesn’t really work. “I know how you’re feeling right now, believe me, but… it’s not their fault,” Minho says calmly, “they don’t know about our- I mean, they can’t know about us,” he rephrases what he originally wanted to say, avoiding to mention the word problem or issue. 

“I know. It doesn’t make me feel any better, though,” you mumble in his chest. 

The silence of your bedroom never felt heavier. You and Minho are both lost in your thoughts, still holding each other tightly, because each other is the only thing you’ve got left. You have only Minho, and he has only you - you and, well, the cats. His family. Your family. You wonder if it’s enough for him, if he’s content with his life as it is now or if he’s yearning for more. You wonder if you’re enough for him, if you’ll be enough for him. 

“Minho?” You call his name softly, your voice sounding incredibly small as it breaks the silence. You don’t look at him as you speak, your head stays buried in his chest, your arms around him. You’re scared that looking him in the eye might be too much for you, and that you’ll end up putting off asking him what you want to ask him. “Would you still love me? If I… if I couldn’t have kids, I mean,” your heart thrums in your ears as you speak, “what I’m saying is… would you still think I’m enough?” You toy with your promise ring and wedding band as you ask him the painful question, your worst nightmare, the thought that keeps you awake at night.

Minho’s body freezes under yours, and he blinks a couple of times while staring at an indefinite spot far away while he tries to process your words and their meaning. The more he repeats your questions inside his head, though, the less sense they make to him and the more absurd they sound. 

“Jagiya,” he says, sounding almost as if he’s scolding you or something. “You’re the love of my life,” he states in all seriousness, and he means it. 

His answer, however, is not enough for you. You need to know. 

“Minho, I’m serious.”

Minho was never the type to openly talk about his feelings, but he feels safe with you, and he knows he can tell you anything. It’s how vulnerable it makes him feels, what he dislikes about opening up to other people. It always made him feel kind of stupid, but you managed to change that throughout the years. You showed him you’re by his side no matter what, and you’ll never think any less of him. He loves talking to you. Sometimes, it’s all you do - you’d spend hours curled up on the couch or in bed, talking about your day or literally anything else. Minho wouldn’t change it for the world. The feeling of having you in his arms as he rests his head on your shoulders is everything he needs, the only thing that keeps him sane. 

“I’m being serious, too,” Minho sighs. “You’re the love of my life,” he repeats with a seriousness that makes you shiver. “I told you after five months of dating, I told you the night I proposed and I told you on the altar when we got married. I tell you every day. It’s not just words to me, I mean it,” he unwraps his arms from around your waist to cup your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“Minho…”

“No, listen to me,” his tone is much softer now as his watery boba eyes meet yours. “I love you,” he says with a disarming sincerity - it takes you off guard. “You changed my life completely, y/n. I wouldn’t be half the man I am now if you weren’t by my side. I’m completely and utterly in love with you, so no,” his gaze is fixed on your eyes, “you’re not enough. You’re more than enough, you’re everything I could possibly ask for and so, so much more.”

“Min…”

“You know, there’s a Japanese word: ikigai.”

“What?”

“Ikigai. Now, I could brag about my master in Japanese and explain its etymology, but I won’t,” Minho chuckles. “It’s a word that literally means ‘one’s reason to get out of the bed every day’, it’s your life purpose,” Minho takes your hands in his, brushing your knuckles with his lips. “You’re my life purpose, jagiya. You’re my ikigai.”

Tears are streaming down your face, and you sniffle a couple of times. Minho brings his hands on your shoulders and rubs your skin to soothe you as a warm smile spreads over his delicate features. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, then place a single, soft kiss on his lips. They taste like home - he’s your home. That’s why you’re so scared of losing him. 

“Pf, silly girl, asking if you’re enough,” Minho shakes his head playfully, feigning offence. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer, and you rest your face in the crook of his neck and leave another kiss there.

There’s something different in the way he holds you now, though. His body swiftly becomes rigid, and he gulps, almost as if he’d gotten swamped with a sudden thought. A thought that terrifies him. 

You see, Minho was never one too sure of himself. Insecure is not how you would describe him, though. It’s a strange way to put it, but Minho believes in his capacities and abilities, and most of all in the person that he is. He never really doubted your feelings for him, not even at the beginning of your relationship when you barely knew each other - and, most definitely, not when you were exchanging your vows at the altar. Minho is one hundred percent sure you love him. The question running through his head is, however, for how long. For how long will you love him, before realizing that he’s the one who’s not enough for you? That he’s the one who failed you? That he’s the one who couldn’t give you the family you so desperately wanted? 

Minho needs you more than he needs the air to breathe. He can’t lose you, you’re his home, his everything. 

“Min?” You murmur, voice muffled in his skin - soft and with a musky scent, that reminds you of his body wash. “Are you okay?” Your voice is soft, even though you’re trying to hide the turmoil in your heart. 

What if another man could give you what you want? A baby. A family. A future. What if he just… can’t? Before he knows it, Minho is crying - a broken sob leaving his soft lips. You immediately pull away, lifting your head to look at him. His cheeks are stained with tears, and a few more are running down his face. Minho closes his eyes when you wipe them off with your thumbs, kissing each one of his cheeks afterwards.

“Min, what’s up? What’s wrong?”

“What if… what if it’s me?” He asks with a broken voice after a few seconds spent in silence. 

“What if it’s you what?” You ask him, not fully grasping the meaning behind his question. 

Part of him wants to brush it off and forget about the intrusive thought that has been bugging him for a while now, but deep down he knows he needs to talk this through with you. You’re the only one who can give him the answers he’s so desperately seeking. 

“What if it’s me… the one who… What if you can’t get pregnant because you’re incompatible with me? What if one day you wake up and realize that you could have so much more with somebody else and- and instead you’re just here… wasting your time with me?”

You feel like your heart just shattered into a million pieces, maybe more. Maybe it just broke into countless of tiny, little pieces that are even imperceptible to the naked eye. You can’t believe you’ve made him feel like this, that you let him believe that having a family - no, getting pregnant, is more important than him. He’s your family, has always been. 

“Pf, silly boy, thinking I’m wasting my time with you,” you try to joke the same way he did minutes earlier, but deep down you’re shocked. 

“I’m… I’m serious, jagiya.” You hate how broken he sounds. 

“So am I,” you crack a smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “Remember when you bumped into me during lunch break back in college? And I spilled my coffe all over your white t-shirt?”

“Why are you telling me this?” Minho asks. He remembers everything vividly. If he closes his eyes, he can almost relieve it inside his head. That’s when you met. 

“That’s when we met,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It was also the day I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Minho is beyond confused. “Why?” 

“You were so kind to me even though it was one hundred percent my fault. Your t-shirt was so expensive, too,” you chuckle at the memory, running your hand through his hair, gently tugging at its ends as you keep staring into his beautiful, brown boba eyes. “But you didn’t get angry at me, you just smiled and brushed it off with a shrug.”

“And then I asked you out.”

You nod, smiling. “And then you asked me out. On a coffee date, ironically enough.”

Minho giggles. He nuzzles your nose with his. “We had so much fun, too… You were just so cute, I was whipped for you already. I couldn’t wait to see you again,” he tells you, and then he pecks your lips. 

“Me neither,” you smile back. “I spent the whole time glued to my phone waiting for you to text. You made me the happiest. You make me the happiest,” you correct. 

“Still?”

“Minho, you’re all I ever wanted, all I’ll ever need,” you cup his face in your hands. “You and the cats are the most important thing in my life. You’re my… what was that Japanese word you just said?”

He chuckles. “Ikigai.” 

“Ikigai,” you repeat with a nod, “you’re my ikigai, too. Have always been.”

Minho lets out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding. He pulls you closer, and it’s his turn now to hide his face in your neck as a few more tears fall from his eyes, drenching your pajama shirt. You keep him close to your body with your legs on each side of his hips while your hands toy with the ends of his hair. You’d missed having him this close to you - not only physically, but also emotionally. You needed to have this talk with him, it really was therapeutic and regenerating for the both of you. 

“You’re my Minho,” you mumble in his hair, leaving a kiss there. “And I love you so much.”

Minho shouldn’t be getting hard right now. It’s an emotional night for the both of you, and he truly is fine with things not escalating at all between the two of you, especially since you said you wanted to take a break from trying. There have been physical encounters between the two of you since then, but you never really went all the way - the pressure’s just too much, but you’re both content either way. 

“Oops, sorry,” Minho mumbles on your skin, and then he places his hands on your hips to gently push you off his lap, afraid that it might make you uncomfortable to feel him there. But you stop him, wrapping your fingers around his wrists. He immediately lifts his head to meet your eyes, his eyebrows are furrowed. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, “I… I want you, Minho. I need you.”

When he kisses your lips, it’s gentle and lustful at the same time - as if he’s scared to touch you in fear you’ll break under his touch. His hands grip your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt as you slowly grind on his lap. Eyes fluttering shut, Minho deepens the kiss, letting his tongue lick your lower lip, and then your mouth - he lets his hand wander underneath your shirt, brushing your stomach, then your back and then up, up, up to your shoulders. 

“You’re so soft,” Minho murmurs on your lips, “your lips are so soft. And you’re so warm, I missed feeling you, having you in my arms like this…” 

Kisses on your cheeks, kisses on your jawline and behind your ear, kisses on your neck. Minho knows every spot - he knows exactly where to touch you, where to put his lips, how to make you fold like a piece of paper. His thumbs brush the soft skin underneath your breasts, and then the side - you hiss when he brushes your nipples with a delicacy and a reverence only he has. What Minho doesn’t say with words, he shows you through his actions and physical affection, worshipping your body as if  

“I missed you, too,” you mumble, running your hands up and down his back over the clothes. 

“Off,” Minho mutters under his breath, lips latched on your neck, “can I take this off?” He asks for permission, tugging at your shirt. You nod. 

His calloused fingers grab its end, and he’s rapid to take it off you, letting it slide over your head before letting it fall on the bed. The same things happen to his t-shirt. And then your chests are pressed together, as Minho resumes kissing you. His body shifts on the mattress so that he’s now lying on his back, dragging your body with his - he doesn’t stop kissing you. Your hands are all over him - in his hair, on his shoulders, his hips. You just cannot stop touching him. 

Both your pajama pants come off in a few seconds, getting tangled somewhere under the bedsheets. You’re naked now, your most private and intimate parts pressed together. Minho’s hands grope your asscheeks, and as a reflex you grind yourself on him, making his hard cock throb and leak pre-cum. He smirks against your skin, and bites your lip. 

“I love you,” Minho whispers on your lips as his fingers come to wrap around the base of his length, spreading his own arousal all over his tip. He lets his cockhead slide up and down your folds a couple of times, maybe more, and he’s surprised by how wet you are already. All for him. Ready to take him like he’s ready to have you. 

“I love you, Min,” you whisper, and he pushes inside, breaching your walls deliciously. 

He fills you up slowly, savouring the way your heat engulfs him wholly as his eyes flutter shut as huffs of air fall from his lips. He missed you, he missed you so much - that’s what he keeps thinking as he sinks into you over and over and over again, thrusting from underneath you, meeting the sweet rocking of your hips. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulls you even closer. 

“Close… I missed having you so close to me… missed making love to you.”

Helping you move up and down his length slowly, the way it makes both your heads spin, it doesn’t take long before your orgasms start to build up. You sigh and breathe and pant on top of him, trying to keep as quiet as possible to not wake your neighbors up. Minho himself is trying to hold back the moans and whimpers that threaten to leave his lips - his chest rises and falls quickly, though. Minho pulls a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear, then cups your cheek as he stares into your eyes. You clench around him, hard and harder, until your whole body trembles. 

“Min… Min,” you whimper, trying to focus on his movements solely as the tip of his cock brushes your g-spot with delicacy, “‘m close.”

“Baby… my sweet baby, cum,” Minho encourages you, and it’s enough to make you lose control, “let go for me.”

When you finish, it’s with a cry of his name, as your whole body shakes and trembles with force. Minho holds you tight as he continues to move inside of you, a few thrusts away from reaching his orgasm as well. A couple of precise and rough thrusts send him over the edge, and he’s quick to place his hands under your thighs and lift your hips, slipping out of your wet heat right before he spills his seed, finishing on his stomach instead. For a couple of seconds you’re confused about why he pulled out, but then you remember your conversation from a few weeks ago, and your face drops instantly, but you don’t let him see it. Instead, you quickly get up from the bed and run to the bathroom to grab Minho a warm towel to clean himself. 

⛅︎

Chan had had an idea - babysitting. More specifically, you and Minho babysitting their baby so him and his wife could go out on a night date. 

Bang Haneul is an utterly adorable baby. She’s got her father’s smile and his eyes, but the puffy cheeks are definitely her mother’s. She never really cries or whines, only when she’s hungry - and most of the time, she’d look at you and Minho with curious eyes, tilting her head to the side, probably wondering who you are, and where are her parents. She smiles at Minho when he sings to her, and even claps her little hands. 

“She totally loves me,” Minho smiles at her, holding Haneul in his arms. He boops her little nose, earning a giggle from her. “I’m your favorite uncle, aren’t I?” He coos at her, “don’t tell me it’s uncle Binnie, please. He’s too loud, isn’t he?”

“You’re just as loud,” you chuckle, smiling at the sight before your eyes. 

Minho glares at you playfully. “Pf, please,” he waves his hand at you as if you just said nonsense, “I’m her favorite uncle, I know that already. See the way she looks at me?”

“You fed her yogurt this afternoon, of course she loves you,” you roll your eyes at him. 

“And a peach,” Minho adds, “mashed nice and well for this little princess,” he coos at little Haneul, and she giggles at him, patting Minho’s cheek with her small hand. 

Minho would be an amazing dad - patient, loving, caring, and so thoughtful. You watch him in awe, from the floor where you’re sitting on Haneul’s play mat, surrounded by her colourful toys. Minho notices you’re staring at him, and he smiles back at you, as he carefully sits down next to you, with Haneul in his arms. 

“You wanna go to aunty Y/N? Yeah?” He asks the baby as he watches her stretching her little arms in your direction as soon as you enter her peripheral vision. 

Haneul’s eyes light up when you take her in your arms and smile at her. “Hi,” you coo at her, softly caressing her puffy cheek. Minho scoots closer, resting his head on your shoulder, where he leaves a kiss. 

The precious and soft moment is interrupted by the sound of rattling keys and the front door swinging open. Naturally, it’s Chan and his wife. Haneul in your lap wiggles and squeaks as soon as she spots her parents, stretching her arms out to them. 

“Hi, my baby,” Chan smiles brightly at her daughter, rushing to where the three of you are with open arms, ready to take her into his arms and hold her. “I’ve missed you so much, you know that? You missed me? You missed daddy?” He kisses his daughter’s forehead and nuzzles her cheek with his nose. 

“Did she give you a hard time?” Chan’s girlfriend asks you, smiling at you as she sits on the couch. 

You shake your head as a no, and Minho does the same. “Nope, not at all. She’s a true angel.”

“I wonder if baby number two is going to be so calm and peaceful, too,” Chan thinks out loud, glancing at his girlfriend’s stomach even though she’s barely showing. 

“Sorry if we ruined your plans for the day by asking you to look after Haneul,” Chan’s girlfriend says, looking at you and Minho, “maybe you wanted to be alone tonight… Sorry if we asked you last minute, but my friend bailed on us last minute and we didn’t know who to ask.” 

“Yeah, the rest of the boys was busy tonight,” Chan adds, “well, Jeongin and his girlfriend were technically free, too, but… I mean, they’re still babies,” he chuckles. 

“Ah, it’s no problem, really,” Minho nods at his hyung, “we enjoy spending time with Haneul. She’s the cutest.”

“She really is, my cute baby,” Chan pouts, kissing his daughter’s cheek lovingly. “She looks just like her dad,” he jokes, looking at his wife with a mischievous grin. 

She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t even argue with him, he’s right. It’s not fair, though, I carried her for nine months and she looks like a carbon copy of her father,” she pouts, “I hope baby number two will look like me, at least a bit.”

“You know,” Chan starts, focused on playing with Haneul as she squeezes her father’s hand, “I read somewhere that if the first child is a boy, then he’ll look like his mother, and if she’s a girl she’ll look like her dad,” he says. 

“How do you know it’s not just a casualty?” Minho asks his friend, genuinely curious. 

“I don’t,” Chan shrugs, kissing the top of Haneul’s head. “Hey, why don’t you and y/n have a baby? We can test the theory,” he jokes, but both you and Minho freeze, “I think it’d make a great uncle, wouldn’t I?”

“Chan!” His wife scolds him. “Yah, mind your own business! You’re so nosy, aish…” she giggles.

“Hey, it was just a suggestion! Plus, I think Haneul would love a little cousin to play with, yeah?” He asks his baby, but she just raises her head to look at her dad confused. 

And if either of them notices the way you and Minho are sitting there uncomfortably, with fake smiles plastered on your faces - they don’t comment on it. 

⛅︎

The water feels warm on your skin, the perfect temperature. Yours and Minho’s clothes are scattered on the floor, his black socks are the last thing to reach the pile of fabric by the shower, and the next thing you know he’s opening the glass door, stepping inside right behind you. The water hits his body, rivulets running down his chest, back and legs - his hair is wet and stuck to his face. He wraps his arm around your waist, and you turn to face him. He smiles at you, tucking your wet hair behind your ear with his other hand, and then he leans in to kiss your wet lips. You both had a long day today, and really need to relax and blow some steam off - a hot shower is the perfect solution for that. 

“You’re so cute like this,” Minho chuckles, “your hair looks funny.”

You narrow your eyes at him, smirking. Then you playfully slap his shoulder. “Cute? Funny? Your wife is currently naked in the shower with you. Aren’t I supposed to be, I don’t know, hot?” 

“But you’re always hot.”

You roll your eyes at him, “kiss-ass.” 

Minho chuckles. “I mean it! You’re always hot to me, but you’re also cute and funny. You’re, like, the whole package. I hit the jackpot with you,” he shrugs. 

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I stand by what I said: kiss-ass.”

Minho chuckles, then he pulls you in for a kiss. You thought it’d be a quick peck, but you soon feel his tongue on your mouth. And then you feel something poke you, so you lower your head. “Oh.”

When you lift your gaze, Minho is smirking. “I told you I always think you’re hot.”

Sex in the shower is not something that happens too often between you and Minho, and it’s a shame. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as well, and he doesn’t hesitate to push your body against the wall delicately, making sure he doesn’t hurt you by softening the impact with his arms and hands. You whimper in his mouth, but it’s a whimper of pleasure. His length is rock hard between his legs, now pressed on your stomach, already leaking pre-cum because of how aroused he is. 

“Need you,” Minho mumbles on your skin, kissing your neck, then your jawline and lowering his head until his kisses reach your collarbone, “need you now. Need to make you mine.”

“Take me. Minho, take me.”

Minho grunts. Then, he’s turning your body around so that he’s now facing your naked back. The palm of your hands are pressed against the cold tiles, and you hiss under your breath - but when you feel Minho’s hot lips start kissing your shoulders, you can’t bring yourself to care about anything else except him. Him and how much you crave his touch, to feel his hands on yours as he fucks into you slowly. 

One of his hands comes to rest on your hip, where he draws imaginary circles with the pad of his thumb, while the other one slides between your slightly parted legs. Minho hisses and rests his forehead against your nape once he feels how wet you are already - and not because of the water. He plays with your sex - rubbing your clit gently at first, and then running his fingers up and down your folds. Meanwhile, he bites and sucks on the skin of your shoulders, pressing your body further against the tiles. You arch your back as you feel him slide his cockhead up and down your entrance, coating it in your wet arousal. He holds his breath as he penetrates you, excruciatingly slow. He bottoms out inside of you - until his chest is pressed flat against your back, and you feel his hot breath on your skin. He places one hand on your hip, and presses his other palm flat against the bathroom tiles. 

“Feel so full,” you mumble, breathing heavily. 

The warm water, Minho inside of you, his body all over yours - it all feels so intense, your head is spinning already and he’s barely moved inside of you, only giving a couple of thrusts to give you the time to get adjusted. 

It’s primal, the way he presses your body against the wall as he fucks you nice and deep, slowly, allowing you to feel him completely inside of you in the intimacy of your shower, of your home. You sway your hips back and forth, meeting the movements of his hips. He’s not able to reach your g-spot perfectly from this angle, so he moves his hand from your hips to the sensitive spot between your legs - he’ll make you cum this way tonight. While rubbing your clit ever so gently, he nibbles your ear, and you can clearly hear him panting heavily. 

“You’re so hot,” Minho compliments you, while continuing to thrust inside of you. “I want you all the time, it’s surreal. I’m so in love with you,” he rambles, the words falling from his mouth freely, automatically, “make me so hard.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can feel your impending orgasm about to wash all over you. Minho knows exactly how to touch you, he always manages to make you cum so effortlessly. “Minho, I’m… I’m close.”

It always manages to make his head spin. He doesn’t change its pace, nor the direction of his movements on your most sensitive spot, and in a matter of seconds, your kicking your head back while calling his name desperately, releasing around him. Minho places his hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers with his as he chases his own orgasm, rutting his hips against yours. And just like the last couple of times you had sex, his intent is to pull out right before finishing - this time, you don’t let him. 

“Don’t,” you beg, moving your arms behind your back to grab Minho’s ass, squeezing the flesh, “don’t pull out this time.”

Minho doesn’t really have a chance to ask you what’s going on, because as soon as he opens his mouth he’s cut off by his orgasm, that catches him completely off guard. Hearing you sound so desperate for him does it for him every time. He cums, filling you up to the brim - there’s so much of it that it begins to leak out of you, dripping down your inner thighs as Minho stays buried deep inside of you. 

“‘M sorry, I… you caught me off guard, I should have-“ he starts rambling, but you interrupt him.

“Minho, stop,” you mumble, “I asked you not to pull out. It’s okay.”

“But you said-“

“I know what I said. But really, it’s okay. I wanted it.”

Minho nods, but part of him feels guilty nonetheless. Gently, he pulls out of you, stepping under the direct stream of water, that cleans him off of his own cum. You turn around to look at him and do the same, letting the water wash away the proof of his orgasm off your body. Minho quietly grabs the bottle of shampoo, squirting a generous amount on his hands. 

“Turn around, jagiya. Let me take care of you.”

⛅︎

Dori’s behavior is weird today. 

He hasn’t left your side since Minho left for work earlier - he’d remained by your side the whole time, mostly cuddled on your lap or sprawled on your stomach as you slept. And then he meowed every time you tried to get up, begging you with his little eyes to pick him up so he could be as close to you as possible. 

And he’s resting in your lap even now, as you sit on the couch with your book in your hands, and has no intentions to get up, not even when he hears the sound of rattling keys - a clear signal that Minho’s home. Minho steps inside your place and Dori simply tilts his little head to the side. 

“Daddy’s home, baby,” you coo at the small pet, patting his head, “go say hi. You missed him lots today.”

“He missed me?” Minho asks, sounding pretty confused. His pet doesn’t get up. 

“Well, I thought so,” you put your book away, lifting your head to peck your husband’s lips. “Thought he could smell your scent on the t-shirt and it reminded him of you.”

Dori has the audacity to growl at Minho when he tries to pet him, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“Seems like he hates me,” Minho giggles. 

“That’s weird,” you think out loud, because when you try to pet him, Dori accepts the cuddles gladly, and purrs satisfied under Minho’s incredulous eyes and ears. 

“Son of a-“

“Minho!” You scold him, covering Dori’s ears with your hands, “don’t be mean to my baby.” 

“Well, your baby is an ungrateful little shit,” Minho chuckles, scratching Dori’s chin with his finger, and the cat glares at him almost as if he’d understood his owner’s words, “I change his litter and feed him and who does he love more? You.”

“It’s because I give him cuddles and treats when he behaves,” you point out, and Dori lets out a faint meow almost as if he’s agreeing with you. 

“He’s just taking advantage of you because you’re too good to him, don’t trust him. Traitor,” Minho jokes, leaning in to kiss Dori’s little head. “‘M gonna take a shower and then we’ll think of something for dinner, hm?” He asks, and you nod. 

He disappears upstairs, and you resume reading your book. Dori doesn’t move from your lap, instead he snuggles into your t-shirt and purrs, occasionally meowing to demand pets and more cuddles. You wonder what’s up with him, if maybe there’s something wrong with him or if he’s not feeling alright - but Dori doesn’t seem to be in pain. 

“He’s been there the whole time?” Minho asks once he returns to the living room, surprised to see Dori still curled up in your lap. “Isn’t that weird?”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s not feeling well… maybe we should take him to the vet.”

“But he doesn’t look in pain or anything?” Minho pouts, kneeling down to look his cat in the eye. “Maybe he’s sad or something… maybe he just needs an extra amount of cuddles.”

“Let’s just wait a couple of days… if his behavior is still weird we’ll go to the vet,” you suggest, and Minho nods. 

“Alright, boss,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours. Then, he pecks your lips. “What do you want me to cook? Do omelettes sound good?”

“Yep, they sound perfect.”

Well, maybe they didn’t, because as soon as you get a whiff of their delicious smell, you feel the urge to throw up. Literally, you have to practically run to the bathroom and kneel before the toilet bowl, leaving behind a confused Minho, still sat at the dinner table. Eventually, he gets up and comes upstairs to check up on you, softly knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Are you alright?” He asks you, preoccupied, as he spots you washing your face with cold water to freshen up, taking deep breaths. “Is there something wrong with my omelettes? Did I put too many onions?”

You shake your head as a no, limbs still trembling as you place your hands on the sink. “No, no, they were fine. I don’t know what’s up with me, I’ve been feeling nauseous the whole day.”

Hadn’t your period ended a week ago, Minho would’ve thought you were pregnant, but he knows that’s impossible. So he just comes closer to you, rubbing your lower back with his calloused hand, leaning in to kiss you on your temple. 

“How are you feeling now? Better? Worse? Do you want me to make you some tea?” He asks you, and you smile warmly at him, moved by his apprehensiveness. 

“A cup of tea is fine.”

⛅︎

You feel like you could pass out on the spot when Jeongin’s girlfriend, who’s younger than you and has only been dating her boyfriend for about four months, confesses she’s late. Late late. Like, her period’s late. Sixteen days, to be precise. She looks at you with her big, doe eyes, glistening with tears, begging for your help. She needs a friend, someone who listens, and you’re very close to her, even though you haven’t seen her much - she is kind of a younger sister to you. 

“What? Are you and Jeongin having unprotected sex?” You blatantly ask her, staring at her with wide eyes, kind of shocked by the revelation. They’re too young to be having condomless sex, especially if she’s not on birth control or literally any other contraceptive. 

The lowers her head in shame, even though you’re not angry at her. “It only happened twice, I swear,” she justifies herself, “we’d run out of condoms and didn’t think about the consequences. He didn’t… finish inside, though. He pulled out,” she tells you with a hint of hope in her voice, but you both know it’s not an effective method, and that therefore she could be pregnant. 

“You have to take a test,” you sigh. “It might just be a pregnancy scare - my period’s late all the time, I was supposed to get it a couple of weeks ago, but you never know. The chances are pretty high.”

“O-Okay, okay,” she takes a deep breath, covering her face with her hands, “but I can’t do this alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“You… you said you’re late too. Take a test, too, unnie. It’ll be less scary to not do this alone.” 

And you can’t believe that less than an hour later, once you and Jeongin’s girlfriend are finally back from the convenience store, you’re in your bathroom - actually peeing on a plastic stick, even though you already know what the result’s gonna be. Negative, as it always is. You already know it, but you take the stupid test anyway to help your friend feel less nervous. She’s already taken hers and places the stick inside the box, not ready to look at the result yet, and you do the same, not even realizing you’re putting your test in the same box as hers. 

You only realize when the alarm goes off and it’s time to learn the results - that’s when you realize there’s absolutely no way you can tell which test is yours. And your jaw nearly drops once you take a closer look, because one test reads negative, but the other one… 

“Positive.”

⛅︎ 

You’ve been lying in your bed all day, mostly scrolling through your social media dashboards - Dori in your lap as per usual, he’s glued to your side, when you hear the front door close downstairs. Minho’s home. You’d get up to say hi to him, but you feel so helplessly tired and literally can’t get out of bed. You hear him saying something to the cats, and when he pushes the bedroom door all the way open, he smiles brightly at you - Soonie in his arms and Doongie by his feet. 

“Hi, jagi, how are you feeling today?” He asks you, sitting on the bed next to you. You haven’t been going to work for the past couple of days - you haven’t been feeling well, and Minho is kind of preoccupied. 

“I’m doing better,” you smile at him, leaning in for a kiss, “feel tired, though.” Soonie gets off Minho’s lap, and he scoots closer to cuddle you in a spooning position, circling your waist with his arm, scratching Dori’s head when his hand accidentally bumps him. “Did you have fun today, with the boys?”

“Yeah, we… we had fun,” Minho nods, but doesn’t say much. You know he’s keeping something from you by the way he’s nervously fidgeting with his rings and picking at his skin. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” You tease him, rolling to lie on your back, poking Minho’s dimple with your finger. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, with a dismissive gesture of your hand, “I know you like the back of my hand, I know something’s up with you. What happened? Something happened with the boys?”

“It’s nothing, really. You know the boys, they’re silly, they say things.”

“Which things?” 

Minho sighs. “It’s stupid, really. Let’s just forget about it, hm?”

“Stop being so grumpy and just tell me already,” you insist, and Minho gives up. 

“Fine,” he waves his hand. Then, he runs his fingers through his hair, unsure whether he should really be telling you what he’d learned mere hours ago. He really doesn’t want to bring up the topic, but you’re just so stubborn. “Jeongin told me something today, and it upset me.”

“What did he tell you?”

Another heavy sigh leaves Minho’s lips. “Him and his girlfriend had a pregnancy scare. She went to the doctor and found out she’s not pregnant, but he was pretty overwhelmed by the whole thing. I scolded him for not being responsible and for not having safe sex, and I don’t know… I guess it upset me.”

Oh. Oh. Jeongin’s girlfriend is not pregnant. She’s not pregnant. But the tests… one of them was positive… Wait, if she’s not pregnant, then… Your eyes widen immediately, and you abruptly sit on the mattress. You can’t be pregnant, though, you had your period this month… it could have been implantation spotting, though, if you really were pregnant, but what are the chances?

“I know you’re upset now, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

You shake your head as a no quickly. “It’s not that,” you mumble, getting up from the bed despite Dori’s upset meowing. 

If Jeongin’s girlfriend’s not pregnant, then it means there’s a slight chance you and Minho… But it could also have been a fake positive. They’re pretty common, you read somewhere once. You rush to the bathroom, opening the third drawer quickly - the one where you keep your stash of pads and tampons and tests, to detect both ovulation and pregnancy. You have two of them. You’re gonna take them both, even though you try to remind yourself to not get your hopes up. 

“Jagiya, what’s… what are you doing?” Minho furrows his brows, looking at you confused as he can’t take his eyes off of the two small boxes in your hands. “Are those…”

“I need to take these,” you tell him, voice trembling. “I was with Jeogin’s girlfriend the day she took the test. It’s a long story, and I promise I’ll tell you, but… if she’s not pregnant then there’s a chance…” you trail, looking at him with tears in your eyes. 

“There’s a chance… you might be?” Minho asks, a new feeling of hope washing all over him as his heartbeat picks up its pace. 

“Yeah,” you bite your lip, looking at him with hopeful eyes. 

It’s been the longest three minutes of your entire lives. You and Minho are sitting on the bathroom floor with your backs against the shower glass in silence, too absorbed in your thoughts. Your fingers are intertwined as you wait for your alarm to ring. This could be your chance. This time, things could be different. When Minho’s phone buzzes, you feel as if your heart has stopped beating inside your chest. 

You take a deep breath, shaking your head. “I can’t look. I can’t look, Min. You do it.”

Minho swallows the lump in his throat, feeling nervous - the most he’s ever been. He’s not ready for another negative surprise. Not when flashes of what your lives could be with a little bundle of joy passed before his eyes as he waited patiently for the results to be ready. “How… how about we do it together? I check one and you do the other one, at the same time,” he suggests, and it seems fair. 

You nod, and Minho finally gets up, reaching for the two plastic sticks placed on the sink, turned upside down not to spoil the result. He grasps one, holding it firmly in his hand, and hands you the other one. Then, he sits back on the floor next to you. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he mumbles, kissing your temple. 

“Three…”

“Two…”

“One…”

You look at the result at the same time. You hold your breath, as tears well up in your eyes quickly. Before you can contain yourself, you burst down in tears - salty drops rolling down your cheeks. When you turn to look at Minho, his face is stained with tears as well, his lip is quivering, and then he shows you the stick he’s holding. It shows the same result as yours. 

Positive. 8+ weeks. 

You’re pregnant, you and Minho are going to have a baby. 

“Come here,” Minho mumbles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as he rests his chin on your head, rubbing your arm with his hand. 

You let the realization sink in - you can’t fully process what just happened, your brain can’t comprehend it yet. A baby. Your and Minho’s dream of a family is finally going to come true, you still can’t believe it, it doesn’t feel real. 

“I love you so much, jagi,” he sniffles, kissing the top of your head, “‘m so happy right now…”

Before you could answer, you hear a loud meow coming from beside you, and that’s when you realize Dori’s here. He makes himself comfortable in your lap once more, and that’s when it all becomes clear to you. 

“Dori, baby, did you… did you… have you been glued by my side because you could sense I’m pregnant?” Dori meows once more, then purrs, making himself comfortable on your lap - you take it as a yes. 

“Aish, you little… your vet bill was so expensive for nothing and here you were, trying to tell us something…” Minho shakes his head, patting his cat and scratching his fur, chuckling, and you giggle as well, “thank you for being by her side when I wasn’t here, buddy.”

You stay like this for a while, in silence, with the tests still in your hands and Dori in your lap, hugging and holding each other, feeling blessed because you finally got the happiness you deserved. 

⛅︎

Minho has always been affectionate with you, but ever since you found out you’re going to become parents in a few months, he just won’t leave your side. 

Your OBGYN had confirmed what the tests had shown, announcing with a big smile on her face that yes, you’re pregnant, and that your baby is healthy and about the size of a bell pepper now, since you’re around twenty weeks pregnant. Minho called your baby “little pepper” until you found out the gender - a baby girl. Minho had bursted into tears in the doctor’s office when she delivered the news, and spent the day glued to you, hugging and holding you, his hands never leaving your round belly. 

“How is my little sunshine? Did you miss daddy?” Minho starts talking to your bump as soon as he slips under the covers, kissing your lips first. “I’m sorry I had to leave, little sunshine. Daddy’s gonna quit his job when you’re here, I’m never leaving you,” Minho pouts, kissing your stomach and caressing it with his hand, “I missed you so much today, did you miss me too?”

Minho’s hand freezes on top of your bump, and his head snaps up in your direction at the same time as you lower yours when you feel a small kick - the first. His eyes glisten with tears, and so do yours. Your little sunshine just kicked for the first time after hearing her father’s voice. 

“Jagi did you… did you feel it, too?” Minho asks you, pouting, “she just kicked. Her first kick.”

You nod, placing your hand on your belly as well, close to Minho’s. “I did, Min,” you sniffle. “Our sunshine really missed her daddy today, didn’t she?” 

Another kick, much stronger now. Minho presses his lips on your belly, kissing it all over its surface as he feels his daughter’s delicate kicks, feeling absolutely and utterly in love - a love he didn’t think he’d be able to feel.

“My precious little sunshine, I missed you, too,” Minho kisses your stomach once again. And then he remembers - he gets up quickly and leaves the room only to come back in with his workbag, laying at the end of your shared bed. “I… I bought you something on my way home, sunshine,” Minho talks to your belly. You just look at him curiously, wondering what he could’ve possibly bought your unborn daughter. “You won’t be able to see it for a few more months, though, but I hope you’ll like it.”

From the bag, he pulls out a small plushie - a white rabbit, with long ears and a mischievous grin. Oddly enough, it kinda looks like Minho. “Where did you manage to find a plushie that looks exactly like you?” You giggle, taking the small toy in your hands. 

Minho just chuckles. “It’s cute, isn’t it?” He comments, looking at the plushie. “I just thought she might like it, you know? Maybe she’ll sleep with it, too, once she’s born,” Minho mumbles, once again placing the palm of his hand on your round belly. 

“It’s cute,” you confirm, “I’m sure she’ll love it. Maybe we should sleep with it, so that it’ll have our scents once she’s born. It’ll make her feel safe.”

Minho smiles - a genuinely happy smile, and his eyes sparkle with joy. He nods, kissing your belly, hoping to feel his daughter kick one more time. She does. “I love you so much, sunshine,” he mumbles against your skin, “I can’t wait to meet you. We’re gonna have so much fun together, we’ll play so many games and go on lots of adventures - me, your mom, the cats and you, my baby.”

After a few more kisses and cuddles Minho gives to your belly, he lies down next to you on the bed, spooning you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer as he buries his head in your neck. He kisses your shoulder, breathing in your delicate scent, holding the rabbit plushie close to your body, right on your belly. 

“I’ll never thank you enough for this, you know that, right?” He mumbles, nuzzling your skin. 

“Thank me for what?” You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“All of this. For making me the happiest man alive, for carrying our precious and healthy baby girl. It’s pretty amazing if you think about it, isn’t it? There’s a life inside of you - our baby, our sunshine…”

“Minho…”

“I love you both so much, I can’t wait for our new life together to start.”

And all the pain you both went through is long forgotten now that he can finally fall asleep with you in his arms and his hand on your belly, dreaming of a future that, and he can’t put into words how happy he is, is just around the corner. 

⛅︎

-> 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

-> 𝐦𝐲 ☕️