Ugh Yes, Unnie! I Think You Got My Feelings Pretty Well On All Of These.

Ugh yes, unnie! I think you got my feelings pretty well on all of these.

Let's explore Seungmin and Felix some more...(I'll drop by in the asks again)

Two words: breath play

Which members are into it?

What kind of breath play do they like?

Oooh so I have a few little thoughts on this topic.

I need to preface this that breath play is a serious topic in terms of risk. Please do not use my ill-informed view of it as anything to apply to real life. Research pls. This is just a romanticized fantasy based discussion for fun and for our imagination.

I can see both Jisung and Hyunjin being on the receiving end of breath play. But go about it very differently to each other.

For Hyunjin it's super sensual. Like he loves the idea of how it looks visually to have a hand wrapped around his neck, or a pretty velvet rope. He even practices this on himself, with a mirror nearby. He wants to see his facial expressions as the air is restricted. He wants to see his ring-adorned hand and slender fingers against his neck. He also likes to involve you, and experiment with you. Do you make similar faces, sounds? Do you get just as aroused? And what would happen if he splays a hand across your neck while he fucks you?

Jisung's needs are a little different. He likes to participate in breath play to heighten his sense of panic. He wants to be a blubbering mess and surrender entirely to you. Although he does play around on his own and he uses his dom side to dom himself.. so he's playing out both his dom and sub side (if that makes sense). He likes the fear and the feeling of lightheadedness. When it comes to when he's in command of you, his favourite thing to do is make you choke on his cock and pinch your nose (pretty sure I've written him doing this). He loves the tears stream down your face as your eyes lose focus.

Felix is a maybe on receiving, but I don't know if I see him into it? I feel like he's more into nipple clamps and anal plugs (something to explore another day perhaps?)

Binnie and Chan. Dick choking, and corsetting (applying pressure to your chest). For some reason I think those two would be down for that. Both make them feel strong and powerful. Masculine. They often like it when you play a subdued and helpless role. They'll take care of you after and make sure you're okay. Big tough guys are softies really.

Jeongin. Deranged fucker likes to put various masks and bags over your head. He's more of a risktaker than the others. He thinks he knows enough about this entire topic that he has confidence that nothing will go wrong. He never acts purely on impulse and every move is calculated. The man researches first. He's got a collection of BDSM literature, a BDSM coach. He's giving me kidnapper vibes for real.

Lee Know. Straight up likes to see you squirm. He usually likes collars and ropes that he can tighten gradually. Or just a simple veiny hand around you woks. He's a more in the heat of the moment guy, but he's so in tune with you that he knows if you're up for it. You love nothing more than seeing his eyes as they watch you intently as he squeezes. He loves to come inside you when you're at the brink of unconsciousness.

Suengmin. I actually don't see him into breath play as much as he's into spanking you with a paddle, or calling you names. He's more about power games through the way he treats you. Degrading and mean when you're role playing, but kind and sweet the rest of the time. I really want to explore more about Seungmin tbh. He's mostly depicted as cold and mean (just like l just described him), but I think he's actually a big softy.

Ah, Sorsha I love your brain so much.

Body Language

NSFW // minors do not interact

Pairing: Lee Minho x female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers // romance and smut

Word count: 5.2k approx. mostly spicy smut 🌶️

Story: whilst attending a gathering at Felix’s apartment, you meet his new housemate, Minho. You don’t speak Korean, and Minho knows very little English, but somehow he understands exactly what you need.

Warnings: mentions of physical disability (reader has a hand impairment and wears a leg brace), anxiety and body image issues. Smut warnings below.

Note from Sorsha: This is my first piece where I talk about disability and body image issues. A person’s experience of living with disability is unique to them. I’m not implying that all people with disability experience anxiety or self-consciousness around their disability. But I do personally live with a physical disability and can only draw from my own experiences. Unfortunately my experience doesn’t include having hot sex with Minho 😫

Smut Warnings: unprotected piv sex (pull out method 🫣), oral sex (f. Rec), nipple play, aftercare.

I hope that even if you don’t have lived experience of disability that you still read this story as I think the character will still resonate with many of you.

Love you, and enjoy xxx

—————————

You take a deep breath as you approach the door of your friend’s apartment and ring the doorbell. While you wait for an answer, You look down at your chosen outfit. A White floral print on duck egg blue background ensemble of a tight tank top and matching maxi skirt. The skirt has a split up the front of one leg, your “good” leg. You always seem to refer to that leg as your “good” one. It isn’t even all that good, it just works better than the other leg. The one with the leg brace. No heels for you, but you’re sporting you favourite white sneakers. You run your hands over the fabric, satisfied with how you look today. You look great, and this party is going to be fine. You tell yourself.

But as you wait for the door to open, you can hear many voices from the inside of the apartment, and it makes you feel sick.

It isn’t the leg brace that makes you self-conscious, or that your balance isn’t so good. You actually “embrace the brace” because it is a tool to help you do what you want and need to do. It’s your hands that are the problem. No one can really see anything is wrong, not unless they look closely and really pay attention. But they hold you back from interacting with the world the way you want. Your impairment makes fine motor tasks near impossible. You can’t even undo buttons to save your life. And writing, well that went down hill at some point in the last three years, and you can barely fill out a form these days. Not being able to play guitar anymore is pretty shit too.

But your biggest anxiety inducing situation is eating in front of strangers. Cutting up food is awkward, holding finger food is risky for the floor and your clothes, and fucking hell, if chopsticks are involved you’re doomed to starve.

You are anxious. You hadn't anticipated how anxious you were going to feel when you told Felix you’d come to celebrate his promotion. But of course Felix didn’t quite know the full extent of the dread that filled your body whenever you had to be in a “dining” setting. You’d confided in him about your fears and anxiety somewhat, and he’d promised that it would all be okay and you could use anything that would help.

“It’ll be just a small gathering, y/n.” He’d smiled at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no.

And now here you are, at your friend’s. You have turned up. You haven’t bailed.

But you you want to run away. No. You will stay, even if you don’t get to eat.

“Y/n!!!” Felix beams at you as he opens the door. “Come in, love.” He steps to the side allowing you to enter the apartment. Sure enough there are a dozen or so people already mingling and chatting. Music was playing from a Bluetooth speaker over on the right.

“Are you feeling, okay?” Felix whispers in close to your ear, and you nod and swallow hard. You’re not really okay. You tell yourself that nothing bad is going to happen. That no one is even going to care, and as you find a place to sit and take in your surroundings, you realise no one is even looking at you. See, it’s fine. This isn’t that bad. You are okay. You don’t recognise anyone, they seem to be Felix’s work friends, whereas you are his childhood friend, but after about ten minutes of polite hellos, and introductions, you begin to feel your nerves settle just a little bit.

“Y/n, want a drink?” You look up to see Felix offering you a can of soft drink. You nod and your eyes flicker to the man standing beside him. A man you have never seen before. This must be Felix’s friend from Korea. From what Felix had said previously, he has moved here for a while for work and study. What is his name again?

“This is Minho.” Felix gestures to the man standing nervously beside him. Minho. “Hello, Minho. I’m y/n.” You smile. But Minho simply nods curtly, barely making any eye contact with you.

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t speak much English yet.” he chuckles and opens the can of drink for you before passing it to you. You use every ounce of concentration to grasp the can securely, hoping to god you don’t drop it and spill it everywhere. Satisfied you have got a good hold on the can, you look up to find Minho has disappeared.

“Oh, he’s gone?” You say surprised.

“He’s just gone to start bringing the food out. He loves cook-”

“Lix!” A voice from across the room cuts him off.

“Excuse me for a sec.” Felix pats you on the shoulder as he walks away in the direction of the voice.

Minho returns the room shortly after with trays of what looks to be various finger foods, and begins to place them on the coffee table and dining table that has been set up to the side of the living room. Mini pizzas, fried chicken pieces, some type of vegetarian situation, and several other awkward looking foods that you were not planning to attempt to eat. Although, it all looks absolutely scrumptious. You feel your stomach rumble and you regret not filling up on food beforehand.

You watch the other people pick some food and use flimsy napkins as plates. It looks so easy for them, and you feel a pang of jealousy. Stop that now. You tell yourself. How can you solve this problem? You need an actual plate, and maybe a coffee mug to have another drink in, you think, looking at your tight grip around the now empty can. You look around the room and see Minho standing to the side watching the positive reaction to the food. Everyone is absolutely loving it. You look back at Minho again and catch his gaze on you. He looks at you quizically and then turns to go back into the kitchen. Fuck! You must look like a stuck up bitch.

Okay, let’s go find a plate and a fork, and a cup, or you’re just going to miss out on eating altogether. All you need to do is get up and go to the kitchen. This is always how your internal dialogue goes. You need to plan in your mind how you are going to navigate your surroundings. Are there any obstacles you need to work your way around? Which is your quickest route?

You enter the kitchen surprised to see Minho still working away chopping food, even though there is already plenty of food in the living room. Your eyes drift over his frame, and you’re surprised by the flushed feeling in your cheeks. He is attractive. Felix had mentioned he was a dancer with a passion for cooking. Hmm.. yes he definitely has a dancer’s body. You can tell his thighs are toned from the way his trousers cling to them. You bite your lip as you eyes follow his thighs up to his taught ass and you bite down even harder on your lip. Fuck. Stop looking at him, you tell yourself. You quickly lift your gaze to his upper half, his thin cotton button down draping over his back muscles. And his arm. Fuck! You can’t stop staring at the veins in his forearm as he chops a tomato.

You are suddenly brought out of your not-so-innocent thoughts when the knife in his hand stills. Shit. You quickly remember why you came in to the kitchen in the first place, and open the overhead cupboard to fetch a mug, and opening the fridge to see what beverage options there are.

Your breath catches in your chest when out of nowhere, a veiny hand grabs onto the fridge door, opening it further and reaching in to grab two cans of soft drink. You step out of the way to give the owner of the hand room, only to find Minho standing there with a Sprite in one hand and a Coke in the other, holding them both up to you in a way that could only mean he’s asking you to choose one. But all you do is stare blankly at this gorgeous man in front of you.

Minho nods his head, gesturing for you to take one. Fuck his eyes are captivating. You reach out to choose the coke, but instead of him handing it to you, he takes both cans to the counter and places a second mug down next to yours. You watch him, intrigued, as he opens both cans - one handed - and fills the mugs part way with the drinks. You take a step closer, wrapping your hand around the handle of the mug of coke, and tentatively make eye contact with him again. “Thank you.” You whisper. He nods shyly in return and mumbles a “your welcome.” Then gets back to what he was working on.

You don’t move. You barely breathe. This can’t take your eyes off of him. You are sure he can feel your eyes on him too, because his movements are little stiffer, more hesitant than when you first walked into the kitchen and he didn’t know you were there. You wondered if you were making him nervous.

He takes two plates and begins to arrange much of the same food he’d taken out to the gathering earlier. Mini pizzas, fried chicken, but also a little salad on the side. Then he proceeds to cut up everything up into bite size pieces. On both plates. What is he doing? You are intrigued. To finish off, he gets two forks out of the cutlery drawer and takes both plates over to the little two seater table in the opposite corner of the kitchen. And then he’s brushing past you to take the two mugs of soft drink, setting them down with the two plates of food.

When he is done, he looks at you expectantly. You are unsure what is happening. His gaze alternates between the little table and you. “Eat with me?” He says carefully. Wait. What? You glance at the plates on the table. This is for you? “You want me to eat with you?” You double check, even though you’re not sure how much he understands. He nods with a smile and sits himself down in one of the chairs.

Slowly, you make your way to the other chair and nervously sit down opposite him. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. The plates of food, all chopped up small, coupled with the cold drinks in what one would normally drink a hot beverage from, looks exactly how you set up your own dinner. At home, you have a special knife to cut your food up and you make a mental note to start keeping it in your handbag. But are you allowed to carry knives around like that?

“You don’t like?” Minho breaks your thoughts again.

“Yes… No… I mean I do like.” You say and stab your fork in a piece of chicken and pop it into your mouth. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “Oh my god, Minho!” You say with your mouth full. “This is delicious!” You cry. “Yum!”

Minho smirks, a satisfied look on his beautiful face. “Yummy?” He asks. You nod frantically. “So good. Yummy.” You grin back, before going in for more food.

Minho digs in too, and as you both fall even more silent than you had already been so far, you wonder why Minho hasn’t joined the others in the other room. Maybe he’s shy? Maybe he’s unsure because of the language barrier? But he seems so confident, and you imagined that if he were surrounded by his people he’d be boisterous and maybe even a little obnoxious. He has that look about him. Devious. As you place the last bit of food into your mouth, you realise that you hadn’t even thought about your anxiety for a while. Minho, a complete stranger, has made your dining experience one of the least stressful in a long time. And you hadn’t even had to explain anything to him. Felix must have mentioned something to him, you decide. How else could he have known what you needed?

You look up and give Minho the biggest, most thankful and authentic smile. “Thank you, Minho. That was so fucking good.” His eyes blink rapidly at your use of the word fucking, and he quickly breaks eye contact, and a look of confusion crosses his face. His cheeks turn a shade of pink. Hmm, so he knows that word?

“There you two are!” You both look up startled as Felix enters the kitchen and crouches down beside you both. He scans the empty plates and peeks into your coffee mug curiously.

“Thank you Felix.” You say, but he looks confused. “For what, love?”

“Letting Minho know my challenges…you know, with food.”

“Honey, I never told him anything.” He shrugs. “But I probably should have. Fuck, I’m a shit friend, I didn’t even see if you needed anything.” He scratches his head. “Anyway, I came to tell you that we are all heading into town now. Are you going to come?”

You glance at Minho who seems to be pretending to be interested in how his Sprite looks swirling around his mug, and then you look back at Felix. He shakes his head “Minho already told me he won’t be coming out.”

Oh. You take a moment to consider how your night would pan out if you went out with the group. It would most likely be fun, although your feet would hate you in the morning. A night out is extremely tiring. You cast your eyes around the kitchen. There are plates, pans, rubbish absolutely everywhere, and who knows what state the living room is in? If Minho was left here on his own, you were positive he’ll clean it all up himself.

“No, I think I’ll just stay here. Help tidy up.” You say brightly. Felix raises his eyebrows and looks to Minho and says something to him in Korean. You watch Minho as his eyes widen and when blink rapidly as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Eventually he meets your eyes and offers one polite nod. You nod in return, like you have both just agreed on something important, and you feel a nervousness in your stomach. Or is the feeling something else?

“Well,” Felix stands up. “I may or may not be back before dawn. If you want to crash here tonight, y/n, you know you are more than welcome, right?” He gives you a hug and then hugs Minho. They exchange a few more words, and you are sure Felix has just teased Minho, because Minho suddenly raises his voice in a loud “Ya!” making you jump, and play punches Felix in the arm. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” He laughs as he leaves you and Minho alone once more.

———

After the group has left, and after Minho cuts you a second piece of cheesecake, you watch him begin the mammoth task of cleaning up. The place feels so silent, apart from Minho pottering around collecting plates. You retrieve a garbage bag from the third drawer down in the kitchen, because you know where everything lives at Felix’s, and go about the apartment collecting any rubbish. You aren’t really sure how much help you’re going to be, but thankfully most people had only used napkins and canned drinks, so most of the washing up wasn’t the breakable kind. Pots, pans, and cooking utensils mostly, and you find you are managing quite alright with putting those away in their homes.

Once everything was relatively tidy again, you dim the kitchen lights a little, because your eyes are tired, and set to work filling up the kettle. “Minho, would like a coffee?” you gesture to the jar of instant coffee. His eyes light up. “Mmm, coffee. Yes…please.” He smiles. “Okay, great.” You chirp spooning out the coffee and open the fridge for milk. Again, just like before, Minho’s veiny arm grabs the fridge door. But instead of grabbing the milk, like you expect, he closes the door and gently grasps your arm and turns you so your back is against the bench. The gesture is soft and gentle, not aggressive or demanding, and it makes your breath stop. Your hands grip the countertop on either side of you, trying to steady yourself in this unexpected situation. He is standing directly in front of you, close, and there is nowhere for you to avert your eyes. He swallows hard and stares into your eyes questioningly. You open your mouth to speak but you don’t know what to say. It doesn’t matter though, because Minho speaks first.

“Thank you.” He whispers. You aren’t entirely sure what he is thanking you for, but you assume he means helping him tidy up. “For eating with me.”

Your heart absolutely melts. Who is this man? “You’re welcome.” You choke, staring back at him just as intently. His brown, almond eyes convey a myriad of emotions. Nervousness, desperation, hope, desire. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then lower as he takes a really good look at your body, before returning to your lips. Then his eyes drop to one of your hands. He reaches for it, closing the gap between the two of you in the process, and brings your hand to his lips. You are caught off guard at this gesture. You don’t really like bringing attention to your hands, and having Minho deliberately tending to them makes you feel exposed. You try and pull away, but Minho just brings your fingertips back to his lips and proceeds to kiss the backs of each of your digits. Slowly. One by one.

You suck in your lower lip, both frightened and aroused in equal measure. He lowers your arm down to your side, but still holds your hand securely, and he brings his other arm to rest on your hip.

“This? Okay?” he asks, trying to guage your reaction to his touch. You nod. That’s all you can do.

You feel a heat wash over your body, and you know you are blushing. The butterflies in your stomach flutter around and there is an unmistakable ache in your core. You bring your free hand to rest on his bicep, and you bravely pull him closer to you. He reads this gesture as invitation to lean in closer to you. His eyes still linger on your lips, and his warm breath on your skin makes you quiver.

“This? Okay too?” he whispers in a husky voice, sending shock waves straight to your cunt. “Yes” you squeak and Minho chuckles low before turning serious again. The silence in the room suddenly feels excruciatingly loud as Minho pauses, centimetres from your lips, and it feels like you’re frozen in time. His lips brush yours in a featherlight kiss. It is barely even a kiss, but it feels more intense and passionate than any other “first kiss” you’ve had. He pulls away slightly, only to come back in with more intensity. He let’s go of your hand and cups your jaw instead, pulling you in towards him. You part your lips in the hopes he will explore you with his tongue, and he immediately does.

You feel yourself losing your balance slightly and grip onto Minho tighter. He slides his hands around to the back of your thighs and lifts you effortlessly setting you down on the counter. He breaks the kiss, panting and out of breath, and leans his forehead on yours to compose himself. You rest one hand on the back of his head, your fingers threaded through his dark brown locks.

Once he’s composed himself, Minho suddenly drops to his knees in front of you, taking you by surprise. You watch in anticipation as he very slowly, and very intentionally, lifts your skirt and drapes the fabric over your knees. You feel a surge of embarrassment and want to hide, and you berate yourself for how easily all that hard work of “self-acceptance” has come undone in a single moment. You force yourself to look down at Minho to find he has a hand resting on the velcro fastening of your leg brace, and he is looking up at you waiting. “This? Okay?” he repeats the same sentence as before as his fingers undo the strap a fraction. You nod. “Yes, it’s okay.”

You watch Minho’s expression intently, trying to catch any glimmer of disgust, or worse, pity, but you see none of that from the man at your feet. He carefully removes your brace and shoe, placing it carefully on the floor. Then he removes your other shoe and places that neatly beside the first. Next, he peels off your socks.

You have never felt so exposed in your entire life as you do right now. But as Minho starts to kiss and caress your calves as he makes his way back up to standing, you realise he is captivated by you. And as he pushes your knees apart to makes space for him to come in close to you, you feel that he is indeed very aroused by you too. It makes you hungry for him, and you reach up to the buttons on his shirt. There is no way you can undo these yourself, but it’s okay because Minho’s hand is there and he unbuttons his shirt swiftly with one hand while you watch in awe. You help him slide the shirt off his shoulders and it drops to the floor. Minho hurries to peel your top off over your head, discarding it carelessly. He is focused on only one thing now, the clasp of your simple cotton t-shirt bra, and he undoes it like a pro. You raise your eyebrow at him, suspicious as to why he is so skilled at undressing. But he just smirks and let’s your bra fall away.

He immediately takes a nipple in his mouth and cups your other breast. You arch your back into him and hum a “yes, Minho, yes.” He moans in reply and you rake your hands through his hair, panting as he rolls his tongue over your hardened nipple.

“Minho? Your bedroom? Hmmm…” you moan. “Bed?” You throw the words around hoping he understands. He lifts his head to look at you and you nod your head towards the hallway where the bedrooms are.

He wastes no time lifting you off the counter and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He devours your lips with his as he carries you to towards his bedroom, stopping on the way to press you against the wall in the hallway. You moan again, and throw your head back while he hisses as he grinds his hardness against your clothed cunt. Your body is craving his, and you would absolutely let him fuck you right then and there against the wall if he wanted to.

He pulls you away from the wall, biting and sucking the skin on your neck as he carries you to his room and carefully lays you on his bed. He continues to kiss you, alternating between your mouth and breasts, like he can’t decide what to settle on.

His kisses slowly move lower down your body, peppering your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your skirt. He lifts his gaze to check in with you yet again, and you nod your head, giving him permission to remove your skirt, leaving you only in your pale lavender cotton briefs. Minho’s face hovers incredibly close to where you’re aching to be touched. He hums in approval as he traces a finger over the wet patch of your underwear and brushes it over your clit, watching the fabric cling to your lips as he does so. You suck in a breath at the sensation. He smirks, satisfied with your response, then rubs his finger over your clit again. “Fuck!” you cry out. He locks eyes on you while he rubs a little harder. You furrow your brows and beg him with your eyes to remove your panties.

He peels your underwear off and you let your legs fall open for him, offering yourself to him completely. He doesn’t go straight for your cunt, but tenderly kisses your inner thighs and slowly makes his way to your centre. He knows, he has to know, what this is doing you. How wet, how soaked you are. How much you need him inside of you. “Minho, please.” You sob his name. He replies by licking a stripe from your entrance to you clit. Your hands fling to his hair, holding him against you, and he stops his teasing. He’s on a mission to take you to the stars.

His tongue slips inside you while his fingers finds your clit again. You are barely holding on by a thread as he expertly tongue-fucks you. And then he swaps, bringing his fingers to your entrance and tongue to your clit. He crooks his fingers, somehow knowing exactly where that spot is. You whimper, cry out, moan, almost choke on air, as he digs into that spot over and over, and his tongue laps at your clit in some kind of synchronised dance. It’s relentless, and you can feel the tightness inside you about to - “Oh…Ohh…I’m…I’m coming.” You cry as your orgasm surprises you. It is fast and intense, and you feel your walls clenching and releasing rhythmically.

Minho lifts his head, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction and his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He takes a good look at your pussy, before quickly discarding his trousers. Your eyes widen when they land on his hard cock. Mouthwatering. Veiny like his arms. Fucking perfect. You don’t take your eyes off of it, and you lick your lips when you see pre-cum leaking from the pinkish tip. Minho kneels between your legs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him rub the tip along your lips. Your vagina clenches in desperation to be stretched and filled. You swallow and look up at Minho. His gaze is fixated on the tip of his cock as it pushes against you and threatens to slip inside. His eyes are hooded and full of desire, his lips are parted, perhaps in awe. Then he looks up, catching your gaze, asking for permission. He needs to be inside you. You can tell because he looks like he is absolutely going to die if he doesn’t fuck you soon. But there is also hesitation in his eyes. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you or take advantage of you.

Your reach up and cup his cheek and nod your head. Then you reach down and grasp his length, relishing in how hard he feels in your hand, and you feel like a fucking goddess when his body shudders in some sort of primal way. You let go of his cock and return to leaning on both your elbows. He crashes down on top of you kissing you, transferring your juices from his mouth to yours. And then you feel it, his thick, hard cock stretching you open. He holds your face close to his, keeping eye contact as he slowly stretches you, sinking deeper and deeper inside of your body. He mutters something in Korean, and it turns you on beyond belief. You know he notices your body’s response to the way he’s speaking, because he continues to say things, watching your reaction. Even though he you can’t understand him, his tone is gorgeous, and your body doesn’t care what he is saying. It’s just responding.

Your bodies are sweaty, your cunt wet and noisy, and with each thrust a loud slapping sound resonates in the room. Minho’s noises become a mixture of Korean words, grunts, hisses, and even growls, as he builds the pace, and it only turns you on more. You respond with your own moans and whimpers, crying out every time his cock kisses your cervix.

Sweat drips off his nose, and lands on you as he repositions himself slightly so he can watch his cock fuck in and out of you, all whilst still moving his hips expertly, finding that spot again.

Watching Minho watch himself fucking you is the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen. He is concentrating so hard on chasing both his and your pleasure. He’s so precise in his movements. Careful. Controlled. Measured. But you want him to lose himself to the moment. You want him to forget himself.

Without thinking, you reach up and tap him on the shoulder. He stops immediately and his eyes widen with worry as he tries to work out what is wrong. You pat your hand on the mattress beside you, indicating you want him to lay down. He does as you ask and you throw your leg over to straddle him. He grins up at you and you can’t help but grin back. He holds your hip with one hand, helping you lift up enough for him to guide his cock back to your entrance with his other hand. You both exhale in relief when he is snuggly back inside.

Minho waits for you to take the lead, and you experimentally grind your hips. The angle feels incredible. He is so deep inside you, your bodies flush with each other. Minho helps you set a steady rhythm and pace by guiding your hips back and forth along his length, and you are on the brink of your second orgasm. You sob at how good he feels inside of you and lean down onto Minho’s chest where he holds you close. He digs his heels into the mattress and begins to brutally snap his hips up into you. The force of each thrust takes your breath away and you come hard around his cock, crying out his name. You finally feel Minho snap and he somehow has you on your back again. You hold onto his shoulders as he knocks the breath out of you with each forceful thrust. And then he pulls out of you moaning as he paints hot ropes of cum all over your stomach. He collapses on top of you panting trying to catch his breath, neither of you caring in the slightest about the stickiness between your bodies.

Eventually your breath returns to normal, and Minho slips off the bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. He disappears out of the room only to return with a warm cloth, a mug of water and the items of clothing you had left in the kitchen. Somehow he is able to hold everything at once. You watch him clean you up and offer you the drink. You gulp it down, not realising how thirsty you are while he goes to his chest of drawers to retrieve an oversized t-shirt for you to wear.

He leans in to kiss you. “This… this was okay?” he asks softly. You nod. “Yes.” And he grins sheepishly, pulling you down beside him and curling up behind you whispering words in Korean as you fall asleep.

—————

A/n: I had someone ask me since writing this how LK knew what reader needed. I suppose I wanted to tap into Minho being rather observant of other people’s needs (and I didn’t convey that well), or maybe Felix did say something to him afterall? I will leave it up to you to decide how you want Minho to know her needs.

Xxx. Sorsha

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Listen to this while you contemplate everything

I'm back to talk about Felix and clamps and plugs.

I definitely think this is him. On you. On himself. Depends on whether it's mxm or Felix x reader.

He has a whole range of plugs (a set for himself and a set for you).

Just think of the fun you can have with an inflatable plug.

He fucks with them but also uses them to prep.

I feel like with Felix, anything that he does to you he equally wants done to him too.

So yes nipple clamps. He’ll attach them to your nipples and watch your reaction. He gets so hard as your back arches off the bed and arousal drips from your core and he cannot stop himself from fucking you.

But he gets even harder when you attach the clamps to his nipples. He leaks and whimpers and when you ride him at the same time it blows his mind - and he blows his load deep inside you without warning.

And if you’re both wearing nipple clamps… well it gets noisy because you’re both highly sensitive and the smallest of touches sets you both off moaning and sobbing for release.

I love how you mention a set of plugs for you and him 🤪. I’m imagining you’ve got a shelf each for them, or you keep them in your respective bedside drawers. He purchased various sizes, so you can work your way up to his cock… or work him up to one. And he buys lube in bulk btw! All different flavors!

Can you imagine Felix’s reaction when he gets reader ready though: lying on the bed, a little lace collar with a bell around her neck, clamps attached to her nipples, a plug in her ass, white stay ups, and one of those vibrators you can attach you her clit.

She’s dripping wet. So pretty for him. It’s endearing how his heart bursts. He smiles brightly as he looks down on her, even though she’s a mess from the stimulation. How can he seem so sweet and like sunshine when he’s doing these kinky things?

And oh my god an inflatable butt plug the 8 inch one 😱 that’ll certainly have you both teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain (side note: I feel like Sungie and Seungmin would enjoy one of these…for different reasons to each other 😈)

Girl, What are you doing to me! Felix is meant to be in my friend zone!!!! Now I’m imagining all this and I’m going feral!!!!👆👆👆

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I'm excited to read this!

﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin

pairing: vampire! hwang hyunjin x f!reader

general warnings: this story will contain gore, violence, strong language, slow burn, potential smut and classic vampire things, also reader’s body is being described to be more on the chubbier side

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ongoing series masterlist

playlist

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part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

part seven

part eight

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God dammit what are these wet things on my face ...

NAT! Can you write Minho and Chan and Felix with Chan feeling left out. Minho and Felix are very close and he can't compete

Shadows Between Us

Pairing: Minchanlix

Word Count: 2984

Warnings/Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, loneliness, fluff, comfort

A/N: Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!🖤

Felix, Chan, and Minho had once thought they’d stumbled upon a perfect balance in their unconventional relationship. Each brought something unique, creating a tapestry of emotions and experiences woven together with threads of love, respect, and companionship. But lately, Chan couldn’t shake the feeling that the balance was tipping away from him, leaving him dangling in an abyss of loneliness.

Chan had fallen hopelessly in love with Felix and Minho. They were his world, his reason for waking up each morning with a smile. The way Minho’s laughter could light up a room, the warmth of Felix’s touch – these were the anchors in Chan’s life. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the growing intimacy between Felix and Minho, a bond that seemed to deepen each day, often leaving him on the periphery.

It wasn’t as if they were excluding him intentionally. Chan knew that. But the little moments they shared, the inside jokes, the quiet laughter – these things were beginning to gnaw at Chan’s heart. He often came home to find them entwined on the couch, sharing whispered words and soft kisses that felt like a sharp blade against his chest. They’d glance up at him with warm smiles, but Chan could see the connection between them, one that he feared he would never fully be a part of.

One evening, Chan returned home to a scene that had become all too familiar. Felix and Minho were cuddled up on the couch, Felix’s head resting on Minho’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined. The television was on, but their focus was entirely on each other. Chan stood at the door, hesitating, before forcing a smile and announcing his presence.

“Hey, guys,” he said, his voice betraying none of the turmoil inside him.

Felix looked up first, his face lighting up. “Chan! You’re back!” He disentangled himself from Minho and walked over to give Chan a quick hug. Minho waved from the couch, his eyes twinkling with contentment.

“Yeah, I just finished up at the studio,” Chan replied, hugging Felix back. The contact was brief, too brief, and Felix was back on the couch in seconds, resuming his place beside Minho.

Chan sat in the armchair across from them, pretending to be engrossed in his phone. The conversation between Felix and Minho continued, flowing around him like water around a stone. They laughed about something that had happened earlier, some joke Chan wasn’t privy to, and he felt a pang of envy. He wanted to be a part of that laughter, to share in the joy that seemed reserved just for the two of them.

As the night wore on, Chan’s heart grew heavier. The three of them eventually made their way to bed, and Chan found himself lying awake in the dark, listening to the soft whispers and muffled laughter coming from Felix and Minho’s side of the bed. He turned away, staring at the wall, feeling more like an intruder than a partner.

Days turned into weeks, and the pattern continued. Chan’s insecurity festered, feeding off every little moment he felt excluded. He began to scrutinize himself, wondering what was wrong with him. Was he not enough? Did Felix and Minho love each other more than they loved him? The thoughts spiraled, leaving Chan feeling like a ghost in his own home.

One particularly lonely evening, Chan sat on the sofa, working on his laptop. Felix was next to him, scrolling through his phone. Felix leaned against Chan’s shoulder, the warmth of his body a small comfort. For a moment, Chan felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny flicker of belonging. But it was extinguished as soon as Minho walked through the door.

Minho looked exhausted, his face drawn with fatigue. He offered a tired smile to both of them. “I’m going to bed. Long day,” he mumbled, heading straight to the bedroom.

Felix didn’t hesitate. He stood up, stretching slightly. “I’ll join you. Night, Chan,” he said casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Chan watched them go, the door closing softly behind them. He was left alone in the living room, the silence pressing down on him like a physical weight. The sense of abandonment was overwhelming, a crushing force that made it hard to breathe. He put his laptop aside and curled up on the sofa, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.

He felt sick to his stomach, the loneliness wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud. The thoughts that had plagued him for weeks came rushing back with renewed intensity. They don’t need you. They love each other more. You’re just an extra.

The pain was too much to bear. Chan buried his face in a cushion, finally letting the tears flow. He felt worthless like he didn’t belong in the relationship that had once been his greatest source of joy. The love he had for Felix and Minho now felt like a burden, a painful reminder of how excluded he felt. It was a painful reminder of what had once been his and was now slipping from his fingers.

He lay there for what felt like hours, the darkness of the living room matching the darkness inside him. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound from the bedroom. Each sound was a reminder of what he was missing, of the connection he feared he would never have.

Chan didn’t know how much longer he could endure this. The loneliness was eating away at him, making him question everything about himself and his place in their relationship. He loved Felix and Minho with all his heart, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing them, that they were drifting further and further away from him.

The days passed in a blur of routine and heartache. Chan found solace in his work, burying himself in tasks to avoid thinking about the growing distance between him and his partners. But no matter how busy he kept himself, the loneliness was always there, lurking in the background, waiting to pounce the moment he let his guard down.

One evening, after another long day at the studio, Chan came home to find Felix cooking dinner. The smell of something delicious filled the air, and for a moment, Chan felt a spark of happiness. He walked into the kitchen, trying to mask his emotional turmoil with a smile.

“Hey, Lix. Smells amazing in here,” Chan said, leaning against the counter.

Felix looked up, his face lighting up with a smile. “Hey, babe! I’m making your favorite. Thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Chan’s heart warmed at the gesture. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so alone. They sat down to eat together, the atmosphere light and filled with easy conversation. For a little while, Chan felt like things were back to normal.

But the moment was fleeting. Minho came home, looking as tired as ever. He greeted them with a nod and a brief smile before heading straight to the bedroom. Felix’s eyes followed him, and after a few minutes, he excused himself from the table, leaving Chan to finish his meal alone.

Chan’s appetite vanished. He pushed his plate away and stared at the empty seat across from him. The loneliness crashed over him in waves, stronger than ever. He felt like a stranger in his own home, a third wheel in the relationship that had once brought him so much joy. Shit, he didn’t even feel welcome in his own bed anymore.

He cleaned up the kitchen mechanically, his mind racing with thoughts of inadequacy and despair. By the time he finished, he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. He sank to the floor, his body shaking with silent sobs. He felt utterly broken, convinced that he was the problem, that something was wrong with him.

The ache in his chest was unbearable. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get out of here and-.

“Channie, love?” Minho’s voice ripped him from his thoughts. Chan looked up at him, tears freely falling from his eyes, lips shaking at his desperate try to hold back his sobs. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, getting down on his knees next to him. Minho reached out for him, pulling back his hand as if he burned himself when Chan flinched away. His heart sank to his stomach, and he couldn’t quite read the main emotion in Chan’s eyes. “Felix?” he called out worriedly. “Can you come here for a moment, please?”

Felix made his way over, cursing softly at him for getting him out of bed again. He stopped in his tracks, seeing them on the floor and realizing that Chan was crying. “Heyyy, babe, what happened?” Felix asked, immediately getting down next to him. He cupped his face, leaving Chan no time to pull away from him, and uselessly wiped his tears off. “Channie, what is it? You can tell us, no matter what. We love you, you know that, right?”

A sob escaped him at that, and he shook his head, trying to get away from him as well. He needed them so badly, needed their comfort, their love, but his brain knew they were the source of his misery. 

“Hyung, did we do something wrong?” Minho asked after a moment, searching his eyes. “If so, please tell us.”

“Just leave me alone,” Chan pressed out, wiping his face messily with the sleeves of his sweater. “You’re good at that.”

Felix’s heart dropped to his stomach at that last part. “What?” he asked quietly, watching him stunned as Chan pushed himself off the floor.

“Fuck off, seriously,” Chan shook his head, making his way to the bedroom. He just needed his already packed travel bag and keys for now. He needed to get out of here, now.

Felix watched him leave quietly, tears in his eyes as he felt unable to move. Minho blinked softly as Chan left without any further word, slamming the front door closed. He pushed himself off the floor, telling Felix he’d be back and grabbed his own sets of keys, closing the door more gently than Chan had. “Channie!” he said firmly, watching his boyfriend throw his travel bag onto the backseat. “Chan, hey, what’s the plan here?”

“I need space…actual space,” Chan said, slamming the door closed.

“Where?” he asked firmly.

“Some hotel, I don’t know,” he shrugged, fumbling for his keys. 

Minho nodded gently. “If that’s what you need, okay, but I’m driving,” he said, not accepting anything else and getting into the car. Chan slipped into the passenger’s seat quietly, and for a moment, none of them said a word. “Can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” he told him quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“No,” Chan shook his head, stubbornly looking outside and telling him the name of the hotel. 

Minho hummed in response and started driving. The ride was quiet and Minho’s stomach was cramping up painfully as his thoughts went spiraling. Chan felt guilty for not telling him, tears filling his eyes, knowing that Minho was driving him because he knew Chan wasn’t able to, being so emotional.

Minho quietly made his way inside, grabbing Chan’s bag and walking up to the counter. He booked him a room and paid for it before Chan was able to say a single word. Minho grabbed the keys and nodded toward the elevators. “Come on,” he said gently.

Chan remained silent on their way up to the room, wondering when Minho would finally leave and let him rot in self-despair. Minho unlocked the door, turned on the lights, and went into the room, checking it for hidden cameras and ensuring everything was in place. Chan watched him quietly, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

“You still don’t want to talk?” he asked quietly, putting down Chan’s bag as the older shook his head. He made his way over and stopped in front of him. Chan met his eyes and almost choked on his breath, seeing the sheer pain and anxiety clouding his orbs. “Please call me if you need anything, okay? Promise me.”

“Okay,” Chan nodded quietly.

Minho sighed and cupped his face, his eyes shining suspiciously. “I won’t push you, and please take as much time as you need…but if you’re ready, come back home?” he asked, his voice strained at his attempt not to cry as well. He leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. “I love you, Channie, okay? So so much,” he whispered, and that’s what it took for him to break. Chan buried his face in his stomach, fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his shirt. A sob rippled through his body, and Minho pulled him into a strong hug, his hand running down his back soothingly. “It’s okay, Channie, it’s okay, I got you.” Minho sat down next to him and pulled him into his lap. 

Chan curled up in his arms, holding onto him, scared that he’d leave him. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

Minho shook his head and buried his face in his hair, a silent tear running down his cheek. “Shh, it’s okay,” he said softly, hugging him tightly. “Can I tell Lix where we are, baby, or just us?” he asked gently.

“Call Lix,” Chan nodded, burying his face in his shoulder.

“Okay,” Minho nodded, relieved, gently rubbing his back.

-

Felix practically ripped the door open as soon as the keycard worked and rushed inside the room. He hesitated once he reached them, still unsure if Chan would even want him near. “Channie, I’m so sorry, whatever this is, I am so so sorry, babe,” he rambled, his voice hoarse from crying himself. “Please just give us a chance to fix this and-.”

Chan looked up from where he had been buried in Minho’s arms, and one glance at Felix was enough to tell him he felt like shit. He reached out for him timidly and Felix let him, joining them on the bed. Chan’s hand trembled as he clutched Felix’s, trying to convey the depth of his pain and confusion.

Felix’s eyes were filled with tears as he took Chan’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I didn’t realize you felt this way,” Felix whispered, his voice cracking. “I never wanted you to feel alone, Channie.”

Minho held Chan tightly, his other hand reaching out to brush Felix’s hair back. “We need to understand what’s been going on in your mind, Chan. We can’t fix this if we don’t know what’s broken,” he said softly.

Chan took a shuddering breath, trying to find the words. “I’ve felt so alone,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I see the bond between you two, and it’s beautiful, but it makes me feel like I’m on the outside looking in. I love you both so much, but I’ve felt like a ghost in our relationship.”

Felix’s tears spilled over, and he leaned in to kiss Chan’s forehead. “I’m so sorry, Chan. We never meant to make you feel like that. You’re just as important to us as we are to each other. We love you so much.”

Minho nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow. “We need to do better, Chan. We need to make sure you feel loved and included. We can’t lose you, not like this.”

Chan’s sobs subsided a little, the warmth of their words seeping into his heart. “I don’t want to leave. I just want to feel like I belong, like I’m not an extra in my own relationship.”

Felix cupped Chan’s face, his thumb gently wiping away the tears. “You do belong, Channie. We’ve just been so caught up in each other that we didn’t see how it was affecting you. But we’re here now, and we’re going to make it right.”

Minho pressed a kiss to the top of Chan’s head. “We’re in this together, all three of us. We’ll make sure you know how much you mean to us, every single day.”

Chan nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain. “Okay,” he whispered. “But we need to talk, all of us, really talk about how to make this work.”

Felix and Minho exchanged a look of determination. “We will,” Felix promised. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”

The three of them stayed like that for a while, holding each other, the silence filled with the unspoken promise of better days to come. They knew it wouldn’t be easy, but they were willing to put in the effort, to fight for the love they shared.

The next few days were a period of healing and rebuilding. They talked openly, laying their emotions bare. Chan expressed his feelings of exclusion, while Felix and Minho listened with hearts full of regret and resolve. They made a conscious effort to include Chan in their moments of intimacy, to make him feel cherished and loved.

One evening, as they lay together in bed, Felix turned to Chan, his eyes soft with love. “Thank you for giving us a chance to make this right. We’re stronger together, and we’ll make sure you never feel left out again.”

Minho nodded, his hand resting on Chan’s chest. “You’re the heart of this relationship, Chan. Without you, we’re incomplete.”

Chan smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I love you both so much. And I believe in us. We can do this, together.”

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, Chan felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. The road ahead was still uncertain, but with Felix and Minho by his side, he knew they could navigate any challenge. Their love was a tapestry, woven with threads of resilience and hope, and together, they would create a future where each of them felt seen, loved, and cherished.

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

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Of Kimchi & Ink - Series Masterlist & Teaser

Minty's Masterlist

Summary: You already know you shouldn't fuck your tattoo artist, but when you walk in to SKZ Ink, you can't help but be drawn to the man you've already commissioned for your largest piece yet.

Pairings: Tattoo Artist!Chan x fem!reader **NOTE: While I tend to shy away from most physical descriptors for my 'x reader' stories, there are some in this work that were unavoidable. Reader has multiple tattoos and long dark hair. Beyond that, no physical descriptors used. Word Count: 30.3k, split into 5 parts, with text screenshots in parts 2 through 4 - unedited as always CW: Suggestive and explicit content, tattoos & piercings, reader is written as bisexual, swearing, mentions of grief/loss of a parent, memorial tattoo, reader has a loud hispanic best friend named Nena, Tattoo Artist!ATEEZ Hongjoong, nicknames (reader is called baby, babygirl, beautiful, sweetheart, princess) - explicit tags added to relevant posts

Author's Note: I started writing this forever ago [January 10th, wtf] and just never finished, but it's done now and I hope y'all will like it.

Posting Schedule

Part One, 4.3k - Monday, May 27 @ 11 AM EST

Part Two, 6.6k - Tuesday, May 28 @ 11 AM EST

Part Three, 5.5k - Wednesday, May 29 @ 11 AM EST

Part Four, 7.1k - Thursday, May 30 @ 11 AM EST

Part Five, 6.8k - Friday, May 31 @ 11 AM EST

Sneak Preview

A comfortable silence falls between you as Chan works, and you find your eyes closing in peace. It's been so long since you last had a tattoo take a while, your thigh piece completed over a year ago. Aside from your wrist star, you had only gotten a heart behind your ear and a vine of ivy around your ankle since then. You had missed the buzz of the tattoo machine and the faint stinging of the needle.

Chan moves down your hip, following the stencil around your hip bone onto your lower abdomen. You ignore the fluttering sensation that the vibrations of the machine cause between your thighs, trying to squeeze your thighs together surreptitiously.

“Can you lay your hip flat? The angle will be easier for me.” Chan asks suddenly, pushing at your hip to roll backward. You twist, complying with his request before realizing the new angle puts his left elbow dangerously close to the mound of your pussy. “Thank you.” He wipes away some excess ink, the pressure of his left hand swiping over your abdomen suddenly reminding you of how long it's been since you last had sex.

Too long.

You bite your lower lip to hold back any incriminating noises you might make- between the rumbling machine and Chan's arm draped over you, you can't trust your body not to betray you.

“I'm sorry if this hurts.” Chan's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you glance at him.

“It doesn't.”

“Do you need a break?”

You shake your head. “No, I'm okay.”

His eyes dart to your face as he refills his ink. “Are you sure? You looked like you were in pain.”

You shake your head again. “Really, I'm fine.” You're screaming inside your head at his proximity to your suddenly very needy pussy, but he didn't need to know that. “Thank you for the concern though. You can keep going.”

He watches your face for a moment before resuming his work, and you bite back a groan at the pressure of the needle as it dips closer to the juncture of your thigh. You force your eyes closed and press your lips together, willing yourself to be still and silent while Chan completes the outline of the lily. You lose track of time, mentally sending your thoughts of his hands and things that vibrate out into the stratosphere, trying desperately to think of anything unsexy.

“Okay, I think we're done for today.”

You crack open an eye, then the other. “Really?”

Chan reaches for a bottle of cleanser, squirting some out and wiping down your skin. “Yeah, give me a second to get you cleaned up and then I'll let you take a look before I wrap it.” He finishes cleaning the tattoo, rolling his stool back to give you space. “Alright, go look.”

You sit up, scooting to the edge of the table and sliding off before you scurry to the mirror. When you see your reflection, your mouth drops open. “Oh my god, Chan.” You turn your head to meet his gaze, already on you, eyes clouded with something unspoken. “It's so fucking beautiful.”

A sly grin plays at the corner of his mouth, dimple flashing at you. “Yes, it is.”

xx

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