Amo Aqui - Tumblr Posts
exquisite in every single way possible my eyes and brain have been blessed 😩♥️
could i request a lee know where reader tries to get his photocard but also gets a changbin one and she seems more excited about the changbin one because she already has a lot of minho but he doesn't know that and gets jealous and fucks her roughly and afterwards she shows him all her photocards of him and he gets so shyy.
Warning: smut below! mdni.
“I cannot believe you actually bought that shit,” Minho says with an amused chuckle as he stands behind you, his arms wrapped lazily around your waist.
“I buy one any time I see them,” you retort. “It’s called supporting my boyfriend.”
“Yeah, well your boyfriend feels plenty supported without you wasting money on albums he could’ve given you for free,” Minho replies, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder as you undo the plastic cling wrapping.
It’s a tradition at this point, to pick up an album whenever you see one in stores, enjoying the simple pleasures his fans feel when they eagerly try to collect all the little photocards inside. You know already that Minho has access to stacks of these at his disposal, and that all you have to do is ask for one. But just as his fans enjoy it, you love the thrill of collecting a random photocard to add to your collection, even more special if it’s one of your boyfriend’s.
“Who do you think it is?” You ask with a smile, lifting the cover of the box to reveal the contents inside. The card is hidden behind a poster, face-down to add to the anticipation, and you pinch it between your fingers, turning your head back to face him.
“Me,” Minho replies confidently. “I’d hate to see your reaction if it was anyone else, considering this thing is worth like five coffees or something.”
You slap his arm playfully, thumbing the thin cardboard in your hand and closing your eyes.
“I’ll be happy with whoever I get.”
“Yeah, right,” Minho responds, leaning his face down to rest on your shoulder, his gaze fixed on the card in your hand.
“Ready?” You ask, and he chuckles lightly.
“Let’s see it.”
You make a big show out of dramatically flipping the card over, slapping it into the palm of your hand, and then you open your eyes to examine which member you’ve received.
“Oh my god,” you say, a smile growing on your face as you bring the card up to eye-level to inspect. “It’s Changbin!”
Minho chuckles lightly, a little indifferent to it, but you can’t seem to stop smiling.
“This is such a cute one, too,” you say, flipping the card over once, and then back to examine his face.
It’s a more recent photo of Changbin, his sculpted biceps visible in a white cutoff tank, a playful pout on his face and forming a half heart on his cheek with his hand.
“I need to add this to my Changbin page,” you say enthusiastically, and Minho’s grip around you loosens.
“Changbin page?”
“Yeah,” you reply casually. “I only have three of him. This one makes four- oh my god, I finally have a full page for him!”
“What the hell is a Changbin page?” Minho asks with a disheartened chuckle. “Why are you so happy to be collecting pictures of someone you’re not dating?”
“Minho, it’s part of the culture,” you reply with a chuckle of your own. “It doesn't mean I’m dating him or something.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it- you’re not dating him. You’re not even trying to pretend to be sad that you didn’t pull me.”
“Of course I’m sad,” you reply. “I only collect these to support your career. But it’s a randomized process, in case you forgot.”
“Yeah, right,” Minho says with a nervous smile. “I think this conversation ends here.”
You open your mouth to argue back with him, promptly shutting it before a smirk grows on your lips.
“Are you jealous?”
“Jealous of Changbin?” He retorts. “As if.”
“Jealous that I’m happy I pulled Changbin,” you correct him. Minho says nothing, keeping his gaze on the cabinets behind you.
“Oh my god, you’re jealous. That’s hilarious.”
“Would you stop?”
“You’re so jealous I pulled Changbin! You can’t even look at me!”
“I said stop-”
“What if I start buying Changbin’s merch, too? Should I bring a poster for him at the next tour?”
“Stop!” Minho exclaims, an equally amused smile tugging at his lips. He wants to maintain his serious composure around you, but he can’t, knowing very well that he is jealous, and that this whole argument is undeniably stupid.
“So what if I’m jealous?” Minho retorts, nearing you with a long stride as you hoist yourself up to sit on the granite kitchen island.
“I’d say that’s really fucking hot,” you reply, letting your legs part on the surface below you as he slots himself between them and lets his hands find your waist.
“There’s nothing hot about it,” Minho replies, although he can feel his cock swelling in his pants.
“There is,” you say. “It’s hot that you’re so possessive when it’s a literal piece of cardboard. Kinda want you to fuck me since you’re so mad about it.”
“I can do that,” Minho says sternly, leaning in to graze his lips against yours. “I’m sorry Changbin’s not around to do it instead, though.”
And he closes the gap between the two of you, his lips working eagerly against yours as his hands massage little circles on your inner thighs. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him down to graze the crook of your neck, where he sucks a trail of bruises there and groans into your flesh. Your legs part a little further now, indicating for him to move faster, which Minho quickly takes notice of and pulls away to undo the strings of his sweatpants.
“Fucking Changbin,” Minho grumbles, pulling down his gray sweatpants and letting them pool at his ankles.
“Jealousy looks so good on you,” you say to him, pulling him in by his t-shirt for another kiss. “Get jealous more often, will you? I’ve never seen you get hard this fast.”
Minho’s boxers fall with his pants, his dripping cock angling straight at your entrance as his kisses turn sloppier and more hungry. His hands snake to the hem of your panties, tugging harshly, before he’s pulling them off of you entirely and discarding them on the kitchen floor.
“You want to collect your silly little pictures?” Minho inquires, wrapping his slender fingers around the base of his cock and beginning to pump gently. “Go ahead. I could care less about what you do.”
“Really?” You reply, amused with his stubbornness. “See how I react next time I pull Changbin, then. Maybe I’ll ask him to help me out instead.”
And Minho shuts you up as he finally guides himself inside of you, his hand remaining on the base of his cock still.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Minho groans, his hand finding the small of your back as he begins to fuck you with force. “Do whatever you want.”
“Maybe I will,” you say, your parted lips grazing over his drooly ones, as he pumps his cock in and out of your cunt, bottoming out with ease as your pussy enwreathes him in its wetness. His eyes shut instinctively, groans leaving his mouth as he pulls you closer by your waist and grinds your pussy further against him, his tip caressing a new angle that drives you crazy.
“Jesus Christ,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Feels so fucking good,”
“Yeah?” Minho asks, panting heavily into your ear. “Maybe you planned this little stunt just so I’d fuck you.”
You’re hardly able to reply to him, muffled whimpers escaping your lips as he continues to fuck you, your legs coming around to wrap around his torso. And he can make all the jokes he wants, but he knows at the end of the day it’s him who gets to fuck you like this, him who gets you to cream all over his cock and whose name you’re screaming for the whole neighborhood to hear.
You know it too, confident enough in your relationship to know that a quick, rough fuck will pacify any ounce of Minho’s jealousy once his seed is dripping out of your cunt. It’s like all he has to do is fuck you like he’s trying to breed you, so that you both set aside this immature game and rekindle your differences.
“Tell me how it feels,” Minho groans, increasing his pace now.
“So good,” you breathe, one hand tangling in his brown tresses again. “God, your cock drives me insane.”
“Bet my photocards do too, huh?”
“Jesus Christ, Minho, can’t you just-”
“Say it,” he orders with a grin, his dick continuing to work itself in and out of you. “If you’re so fucking sure you don’t care about Changbin.”
“I don’t give a shit about him,” you say breathlessly, only because you’re desperate for release now. “Or his stupid photocards. Just cum inside me already.”
“Say you hate the guy,” he orders, working a trail of kisses up your neck. “Say you don’t give a fuck about his stupid photos.”
“I hate them,” you echo. “They’re nothing compared to yours. Nothing compares to you fucking me like this- god, it’s so fucking good.”
“I’m gonna cum,” Minho whines, his grip tightening around the small of your back. “Finish at the same time and I’ll forgive you.”
And you clench your entrance around him as he moves even faster now, the sound of skin teeming all around you as he moans desperately into your ear, the volume amplified as you hug him close.
His cock twitches once inside you, pace slowing just a little, before he finally shoots a generous load of his release into your sopping cunt, painting your walls white with his release and placing open-mouthed kisses along the bruises in your flesh.
And you reach your release in tandem with his, clenching around his still-hard cock as you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, your head spinning as he fucks your own cum out of you with the remainder of his stamina before pulling out and readjusting himself.
You steady yourself on the counter with your hands as Minho pulls on his clothes again, catching your breath momentarily before hopping off and collecting your album from the table.
“I’m gonna go add this to my Changbin page,” you say casually, exiting the kitchen to your bedroom, where all your album paraphernalia is stored,
“Oh my god- really?” Minho calls out with a groan, running his hands through his hair frustratedly. “I thought this was over.”
When you return, there’s a small blue binder in your hands, clear dividers stacked cover-to-cover and filled with photocards.
“What is that?” Minho asks, coming around to examine the book with you.
You place Changbin’s card into a plastic sleeve, flipping open to your designated page for him and slotting him among your other three photocards.
“It’s my photocard binder,” you reply, flipping to the start of the binder.
And Minho can’t help the smile that grows on his face at the sight of it- pages upon pages, rows upon rows of his photocards, all different eras, all different poses, neatly organized in your binder and the majority of your collection.
“Is that all…”
“You?” You say amused. “I told you I only collect these for you. This one’s my favorite. And this one’s my favorite hair on you. This one was really expensive-”
“Oh god,” Minho says shyly. “I can’t even look at them.”
But his chest feels warm, overrun with love for you and your little collection of his photocards.
“This one’s your hottest one,” you continue. “And this one I bring everywhere with me…”
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