Why Do I Relate To Everything So Easily - Tumblr Posts

May, your ability to make me feel things in my chest is unrivaled.

okay okay, hear me out.

pegging switch!jisung.

and minho is watching. what if reader got the dick molded after minho's? and obviously jisung is going to be a whimpering mess but what if minho gets fucking jealous because jisung is also making noises he doesn't usually make with minho? so what is reader doing differently with the same fucking dick? it would drive him fucking insane. and then he needs so much reassurance after and jisung would be more than willing to give that to him.

I can't stop thinking about it. ~ 🥟

friend ..... please ........ oh. my. god.

🔞 2.1k words; afab!reader but no gender specified uh ... pegging, unsurprisingly

"Ya-ah," Jisung pants out, every syllable deliciously punched out of him by another one of your languid thrusts into his hole. His expression has long melted into one of sheer pleasure where it's smushed against Minho's hip, his ability to suck Minho's cock long forgotten.

And it's not like Minho isn't enjoying the view, no. Really, it drives him absolutely insane, Jisung, pink and sweaty and absolutely fucked dumb, the knowledge that this is what Jisung looks like every time Minho fucks him into the mattress.

And he knows it's silly, completely nonsensical, to be jealous of you, his own partner, especially when you're fucking Jisung with a picture perfect silicone replica of his own cock, but he can't help it – the self-doubt bubbles, grows, rankling deeply in his chest with every raspy mewl Jisung lets out, every moan that starts low and peters out high, like his body is racked with wave and wave of pleasure.

"Fuuuuuuck, baby, ah, BABY," Jisung mewls, as a string of spit runs down his chin. His free hand scrambles to hold onto Minho, fingertips digging into his hipbone. "So good, baby, don't stop, don't fucking ... ah, stop."

Minho's cock twitches, despite himself. He's so hard it hurts, red and swollen and leaking pathetically where its lying against his stomach, still slick with Jisung's spit. How could it not when Jisung looks so fucking gone.

But that was the problem – he had never seen Jisung this gone. In all the years, all the nights of fucking, of lovemaking, of everything in between, never had Jisung looked and sounded so utterly out of his mind with pleasure, moaned so unabashedly, so obscenely that Minho knew they would get complaints.

What was different now? This was a replica of his cock, goddammit. And it wasn't even real. Silicone. It couldn't feel as good as the real thing, Minho knows. Real cock, hot and warm and pulsing, it's better, so much better. But you wouldn't be able to tell, looking at Jisung with his eyes permanently rolled back into his pretty little head.

And it's not like he didn't want him to enjoy it, god no. When you suggested it his heart had plummeted into his cock at the thought of you fucking Jisung. It lived up the hype, too, the image of your pretty hands around Jisung's hips, the focus on your face, the almost crazed look in your eyes as you buried the strap into him. The way you'd kicked Jisung's legs apart earlier, the way Jisung had squealed – that would be seared into Minho's memory for the rest of his life.

But now ... he just ... he didn't, but ... what were you doing that he couldn't? How the fuck were you taking Jisung apart like this, the way Minho had never ever managed to.

The thought gnaws at him, makes his dick soft in record time, though it's not like you can see or Jisung had the werewithal to notice – no, Jisung was drooling his way towards his orgasm with every controlled roll of your hips, every perfectly punctuated thrust, until you reached around him and tugged at his cock twice and then he came, choking on his own spit, gurgling and moaning, spilling and spilling over the sheets and Minho's legs until he has nothing left to give, before collapsing on Minho's chest.

Absentmindedly, Minho wraps an arm around him, watches quietly as you carefully pull out of Jisung, pat his ass when he mewls out a complaint. You're undoing the strap when Jisung finally manages to speak.

"That was the best dicking down I've ever had, hands down, sorry Minho," he giggles, and it's clearly, undoubtedly, 100% meant as a joke, meant to make you feel good about your first time pegging him (or anyone) but it slices right into Minho's chest.

"Ha," he breathes out, a cheap imitation of a careless laugh, but he's clearly lost his edge because Jisung's head whips around to him immediately, and you freeze, your hands hovering over the buckles.

"Hyung ...?" Jisung asks, his eyes wide, full of concern, and Minho can't bear the look of them. The self-doubt in his chest bubbles up, threatens to drown him. As gently as he can, he pushes Jisung off, tries to wiggle back, put some distance between him and them, but the headboard ruins his plans, so all he ends up achieving is pushing Jisung away.

He watches, devastated, as Jisung's lower lips wobbles, before he bravely swallows it down. Fuck, he should've kept it for longer, let Jisung's hormones settle, before he did something so … harsh.

You're unfrozen now, quickly tugging off the strap and carelessly chucking it down the side of the bed before carefully crawling closer to Minho, clearly wanting to be close to him, wanting to understand ...

Minho feels awful.

"It's nothing, don't worry," Minho mumbles, "I'm fine. Just ... felt overwhelmed."

Jisung blinks at him, then down at his soft cock, before he looks back at him with a furrow of his brow. Minho feels ridiculous, sitting there, with his flaccid dick out. Absentmindedly, he grabs one of the pillows next to him, shoves it over his lap. It makes him feel a little bit safer, at least. Creates a barrier between him and you and Jisung ... something he never wanted to want in the first place. Fuck, now there are tears starting to sting at his waterline.

"Minho?" you ask gently, and settle down to sit next to him, facing him, your thigh resting against his. But you don't attempt to get closer. Minho's grateful for that.

"It's nothing," Minho repeats, but Jisung isn't having any of it.

"What do you mean it's nothing? It's clearly not nothing," he exclaims, exasperation clear in his voice. "It's clearly not nothing. Did we do something? I was really out of it, I"m sorry, I don't remember. Did I say something? I probably said something ..."

He looks frazzled, loopy, his chest heaving quicker and quicker, like he's about to fly into a full-blown panic and Minho and you react at the same time.

Quickly, Minho tugs Jisung forward and against his chest, tucking him firmly under his arm. You scoot closer, too, your hand rubbing soothing, grounding circles into Jisung's back, his waist, his hip, anything you can reach.

"It's okay, Jisungie, calm down," Minho coos, but Jisung shakes his head.

"N-no, it's not okay, please tell me what I said, I'm sorry, whatever I did."

You shush him gently, learn forward to rest your head on Jisung's arm, peppering soft kisses up to his shoulder.

"Jisungie, it's okay, he loves you, I love you, it's all okay."

Jisung sniffles, and you are looking at him so tenderly, so full of care and worry as you press another kiss into his skin, right onto one of his beauty marks, and Minho breaks.

"I ... I got jealous," he breathes out. Jisung's head whips up, but Minho keeps his eyes on you. You look at him slowly, calmly. He holds onto your calm, hopes it will tether him through this.

"I was watching you and you were ... you were making sounds I never heard you make and I ... got in my head about it, I got jealous."

With the way he's staring at you, Minho catches the twinge of hurt that flashes over your face.

"It's stupid, it's dumb, it has nothing to do with you, it was all me and my stupid self-doubt," he mumbles, tries to make it better, but something he said must've hurt you, because you're avoiding his eyes now.

Unmoored, no longer tethered, he flounders.

"I swear, baby, please, it wasn't because you were making him feel good, because I enjoyed it, okay? I loved it, it was so fucking hot. I love when you make each other feel good. Hell, I love watching that the most. It was just a moment, just a stupid moment, okay, I just got into my own head."

He doesn't realise how fast his breath is coming until Jisung places his palm on one and presses his nose into Minho's other cheek. Minho tries to swallow down the panic, but it only makes him feel dizzy.

"It had nothing to do with you, ..." Minho mumbles out, pathetically. He reaches out to you, grabs your arm hesitantly, gently tugs at it, a wordless invitation into his arms – one that you take, to his immense relief.

You settle in against his shoulder, almost a mirror image to where Jisung is still cradling his face softly. Humming a melody, his own breath still hiccuping in his chest.

The three of you are quiet for a long time. Tucked into Minho’s arms, his fingers trailing softly over skin, Jisung’s arm slung over so he can touch you and vice versa - until the moment passes, the panic subsides. Lulled back into calm, Jisung is the first to speak.

“I wasn’t being serious, hyung, I hope you know that,” he says, quietly, hesitantly. Minho sighs and Jisung stiffens, but Minho presses a soft kiss into his hair, one that makes Jisung relax again.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs, and he finds that he means it. There’s a twinge where his heart is, but he means it.

Jisung pouts up at him, visibly not at all happy with Minho’s dismissal.

He extricates himself from Minho’s arms and moves so he can straddle Minho’s hips. His groin is still sticky with cum and lube, and it should be gross, but when has Minho ever been normal about Jisung.

You scoot your lower body away from Minho to accommodate for Jisung and Minho’s arm tightens around you automatically. He wants, no needs you close still. Both of you.

“Hyung, I just said it, it was just a throwaway comment. Because, I mean, god, Y/Nie, it was incredible. But it wasn’t better or worse than you Min, it was just …”

“Different,” you finish his sentence, nodding like it suddenly makes sense, “it’s the same with how both of you fuck me. Not one better than the other, both good in their own way.”

Jisung nods, smiles, squeezes your arm affectionately.

“Yeah, it was different. So, so good also because it was different. Because Y/Nie was fucking me, which is so mind-blowingly hot, but also because I could see you. I could hold onto you.”

Jisung leans down, folds himself over Minho and you until he can rest one sweet hand on your back, and cradle Minho’s face in his palm with the other. “I wouldn’t want to trade your cock for the world, hyung.”

He says it so earnestly, blinking at Minho with his big sparkly doe eyes, that it shocks a little giggle out of him. Jisung pouts again, his eyebrows pulling into an adorable little frown.

“Don’t laugh, I mean it! I love your cock!”

He wiggles around on Minho unhappily and in the process, grinds said cock against between his cheeks.

Minho’s laugh peters out into a little moan, and Jisung lights up with an unfairly sexy smirk as he grinds down with more intention.

“Can I show you, hyung?” he asks, “please can I show you?”

He swivels his hips, his wet, hot little hole catching ever so slightly on the head of Minho’s cock and Minho knows he’ll be rock hard again in seconds. He nods absentmindedly. As if it was ever a question.

Then, Minho feels you fingers, trailing a path over his stomach, up to his pecs, before you start rubbing the sensitive bud of his nipple. He gasps, whips his head over to you.

You’re staring up at him, lips slightly parted, watching him so intently he feels like he’s going insane. He dips down and presses his lips to yours in a messy, badly coordinated, but achingly loving kiss.

“Don’t be mad at me, please,” he mumbles against your lips, “I love you. I want you to love each other. I was being stupid.”

You shush him quietly, press another kiss to his parted lips. Jisung is grinding on him in earnest now, though he has slipped further down, allowing his own already hard again cock to slide against Minho’s in a sinuous glide that pulls sweet gasps from his lips.

“It’s okay, I get it,” you murmur, slide your tongue over his teeth sinfully. Minho’s cock throbs, and he nips at your bottom lip, so eager to taste, to devour you he can barely wait for the “I love you” to leave your bitten lips before he dives in and kisses you, hard.

And then Jisung reaches behind him, lines Minho up with his hole and sinks down and Minho sees stars.

“Let us show you how much we love you, hyung,” he rasps out.

And, god, does Minho feel loved.

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