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hyubcore · 1 year

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part two .

we’ll be forgiven together we wait for space together we wait for silence

There was something hauntingly comforting about the whole situation.

There was a distant fire blazing, lighting up the small space surrounding it. He felt tempted to go towards it. Towards light—just like the Walkers.

They loved light. You would think they would be more accustomed to the nighttime the way bats and racoons are. More leeway to attack, no one to spy on you and see your every move in broad daylight. People are more vulnerable. But no, they loved light.

They loved the light the way Yonghoon loved the haunting comfort. Being alone was the last thing anyone would want given the state of the universe at the time, but for Yonghoon—finally, he was alone.

He had become a nomad once things began to settle in. Most people panicked when the beginning of the end had crept upon mankind. People were terrified to lose their lives. Those lives they complained about every day—suddenly, they wanted it back. The seven o’clock alarms and rush hour traffic. But he could escape.

He ignored the fire and kept on.

The sound of Yonghoon’s car became music to his ears as the rumbling of the engine blocked out the sounds of the Walkers moans and groans. He had learned every single word of every single song on the CDs his parents had left behind. In particular, the Theatre of Pain CD by Motley Crue had become almost entirely worn out. But he figured, if a Walker decided to make themselves at home in his vehicle, break the thing in half and end their misery.

There’s no character to the sky above him. It’s a faded blue-grey—no clouds, no sun, no birds. It reflected the way things had become—dead.

He put in a Green Day CD as he drove down the dirt road. He played the music softly so Walkers wouldn’t hear. He focuses on the music, trying to keep his eyes off the few Walkers that were littered around the area. A large, open field stretched across his left side, and on the right, stands what he had assumed to be an abandoned neighborhood.

As he started to turn onto the main stretch of the road, he heard screams. Not just those guttural hisses and moans from the Walkers, but a live, a young scream. There was a human nearby.

He parked his car on the road, taking a stronghold of his knife. He prepared himself to kill anything that posed a threat, even the source of the screams. If there was one thing Yonghoon was beginning to learn since the start of it all, it was to never trust anyone.

The screams were coming from just ahead of him on the side of the road. A puddle of blood had surrounded the body that continued to let out sounds of agony and misery. Yonghoon approached slowly, steadily, keeping his focus on the knife in his hand. As he got closer to the source, it was a short-stacked, obviously younger boy. His leg was wrapped in a thick amount of cloth, which was stained red.

“H-Help—”

“I’m gonna help you. ‘Kay?” Yonghoon inched closer, keeping his distance in case the boy decided to pounce. He noticed the boy tense up at the sight of the knife in Yonghoon’s grip. Yonghoon dropped it on the pavement. “What happened?”

The boy inhaled a deep breath before speaking. “I got shot. Some assholes just drove by and got me, they must’ve thought I was a Rotter or something.”

Yonghoon kneeled, taking a closer look at the wound. It smelled.

“Okay. Can you stand?” Yonghoon asked as he grabbed his knife and put it back in its sleeve. The boy winced as he pushed himself off the ground. Yonghoon wrapped the boy’s arm around his own shoulders as they slowly walked back towards the car. The music was still flooding from the cracks of the windows. Yonghoon felt embarrassed for a fleeting moment, listening to Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

The boy heaved in heavy, slow breaths, and Yonghoon could tell he was trying not to let out any loud noises.

“What’s your name, kid?” Yonghoon asked, trying to spark up some conversation. He realized though that this boy was probably in no mood to be talking when he had a gaping hole in his leg.

“It’s Giwook,” he replied.

“Cool.”

More silence.

“There’s houses over there,” the boy explained as he pointed to his right. “I was going over there then I got shot. I think I saw some light coming from over there.”

Yonghoon made a turn to the right, through a small tunnel of trees looming overhead. The sun tried its best to peek through the branches and shine on them. It was beginning to grow into nighttime, and still, the dead sky wouldn’t drop its guard to give what was left of mankind a nice sunset to look at. Nonetheless, despite the few Walkers that lingered around, the sight was rather beautiful. Again, a calming, haunting comfort.

Driving became more difficult as they entered the neighborhood. Bodies littered the street, along with debris of all sorts. Yonghoon would have been shocked if there were anyone in any of the houses.

“You stay here. I’m gonna find some gauze or something,” Yonghoon said in a low, husky voice. “If any of the Dead Ones pose any sort of threat, just scream. And here—“ Yonghoon took that Motley Crue CD out of the middle compartment and snapped it in two. “You can stab them with this.”

Then he was off. He made sure to lock the doors behind him. He didn’t know Giwook, except for that he was a tough boy for trying to live through a bullet to the thigh, but either way, he wanted to protect him.

Yonghoon checked the houses. He skipped the ones that looked like they had been inhabited by Walkers, or the ones that were burned to the ground, which was most of them. Most of them had already been ransacked.

One smaller house that looked more worn down and barren stood towards the end of the road. It was boarded up. No windows to peek through.

It was obvious someone was in there.

Yonghoon wasn’t sure, though, but tried anyway.

He knocked a few times, waited, to no avail.

He let out a shallow sigh before taking another good look around the house. The area around it was clean. There weren’t any bodies or trash lying around. Yonghoon tried once more, this time, knocking quickly three times, then slowly three more times, then quickly three times. He heard the floor creak inside.

He grabbed a hold of his knife. The person behind the door was just as prepared as Yonghoon was—he pointed a large rifle right at Yonghoon’s face.

Yonghoon put his hands up, keeping the knife in his hands. The guy behind the gun nodded towards the blade, gesturing for Yonghoon to drop it. This surely wasn’t his first rodeo, having to stare down the barrel of a gun. It was how people made conversation with one another nowadays.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Yonghoon repeated with a soft voice. “I just need a little help.”

The guy scanned Yonghoon up and down. Despite the giant gun in his grip, he didn’t look that intimidating. He was shorter than Yonghoon. He had a stout build. He sported a plain, blue t-shirt and some tattered jeans. He gave Yonghoon a glare, one that told him to explain.

“I...I need some bandages. Or something. Alcohol, antibiotics...my friend is shot.”

They both paused, staring each other down. The guy with the gun whistled as he cocked his head back. Upon his cue arrived a much taller guy, however, lanky and nimble. He immediately reached for his pistol at his waistband.

“Where?” asked the short one with a monotone voice.

“He’s in my car.”

The other two in the house exchanged looks. “You got a car?”

“Yeah. I’ve got about three-quarters of a tank left.”

They both lowered their guns. “Take us to the car.”

And so Yonghoon did. They walked back down the road, taking out the occasional Walker. The shorter guy kept his aim on Yonghoon the whole time, though, pressing the tip of the gun between Yonghoon’s shoulder blades. The other guy took bigger strides—either because he had such long legs, or he was eager to see what Giwook and Yonghoon’s Honda had in store. Yonghoon noticed, and looked behind him at the short one.

“We lost our friend,” he said quietly. He had a haunting grit to his voice. “You know your friend’s name?”

Yonghoon swallowed hard. “Giwook.”

The two exchanged glances again. “Not ours.”

Once they made it to the vehicle, Yonghoon pointed towards the passenger’s side. He unlocked the doors and the short guy now aimed his gun at Giwook. It only took one look at the boy to know he wouldn’t be any sort of threat.

Tall boy looked up. “They’re good.”

As their guns were lowered, they all gathered around Giwook as he hunched over in pain. He was sweating bullets—his shirt clung to his skin, his hair was oily and damp.

“How the hell are you still alive?” asked Tall boy. Giwook gave him an annoyed expression.

“Just give us some damn help, okay?”

Giwook leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. Yonghoon put a hand on his shoulder, which made the boy squirm.

“He’s not infected, is he?”

Yonghoon let out a sigh. “No. He just got shot. We just need some stuff to hold him over.”

“Take us to Gwangju, and we’ll take care of your friend.”

And so they left Yonghoon there. He had a sour feeling in his stomach, thinking about having to deal with Giwook all the way to Gwangju. Hell, he didn’t even know where he was.

Yonghoon went into the back of the car and grabbed a half-empty water bottle from under the seat. He opened it for Giwook, then instructed the boy to drink. He could barely open his mouth, and the water dribbled all over his shirt. The stench of the boy was unsettling—the combination of his rotting leg and the sweat coating his skin made Yonghoon feel queasy.

After what had felt like a decade, the two finally returned. Only this time, on a motorcycle, and with a box.

Without any hesitation, Short Guy threw the box into the backseat, then took out a roll of paper towel. He handed it to Yonghoon, who was still kneeling next to Giwook.

“Wrap that around his leg. Keeping that bandage on is gonna infect it,” he said. Giwook started to unravel what cloth he had on the wound, the sound of scabbed skin ripping with the cloth making everyone cringe. Yonghoon prepped the paper towel as Tall Guy kneeled next to him.

“I’m Hyungu,” he said, looking at Giwook, then at Yonghoon. His gaze lingered on Yonghoon a bit longer—maybe, because he didn’t want to look at the gory sight of Giwook’s injury—but Yonghoon didn’t mind it. The boy had beach-blonde hair and glasses. Yonghoon was shocked they weren’t broken or anything yet. In fact, he looked rather clean compared to his accomplice.

“Nice to meet you, Hyungu,” Yonghoon replied as he helped Giwook. He held up the old makeshift bandage, throwing it behind them as he made a disgusted face. Hyungu looked closer at the wound.

“Is there an exit wound?” Hyungu asked as he watched Yonghoon wrap the towel around Giwook’s leg. Over in the distance, Short Guy was fueling up his bike. From afar, he looked more intimidating. He had a sheer buzz cut for hair, and sported a few tattoos, at least in the spots that were visible.

“Don’t know. It just hurts.” Giwook seethed through his teeth as the fresh cloth touched his skin. Yonghoon winced, as if he could sense the pain Giwook was in, coursing through his own veins. The sight of the wound alone made his stomach turn.

Before Yonghoon could wrap the towel around, Hyungu grabbed his hand, stopping him. Their eyes met and Yonghoon’s face washed over with confusion. Hyungu looked over towards his partner, whistling to grab his attention.

“Harin,” he shouted. “Throw me your canteen.”

Without hesitation, Short Guy—presumably Harin—tossed over a small container, Hyungu catching it in his hands without any sort of struggle. Hyungu grabbed some of the paper towel, pouring a little water on the cloth then wiping it over Giwook’s leg. The younger boy let out a painful noise of misery. Hyungu let out a shallow chuckle.

“Sorry,” he said as Yonghoon grabbed the boy’s forearm. They finished patching up Giwook.

“What exactly is in Gwangju?” asked Yonghoon. He stood from his kneeling position, which sent a sore pain through his knees and ankles. He walked around to the other side of the car and leaned against the door.

“Some refugee camp. We were headed there, then got separated from one of our own. We think he’s probably headed there.”

Yonghoon looked inside the car at Giwook, who had his eyes closed as he held his thigh.

“They could help your friend,” Harin added. “And besides. We’re running out of resources here.”

Harin started his bike as he secured the small bag on the back of his bike, tightening the straps around the seat.

“Do you know how far it is?” Yonghoon asked. Hyungu went back to the car, grabbing something from the box from earlier. He pulled out a tattered map. At first, seemingly useful, until Yonghoon joined Hyungu in examining the paper which had its words faded beyond recognition. The roads printed in the ink looked just like streaks of yellow sun rays on the paper. Hyungu held the paper close to his eyes, examining further.

“We just need to head south. About 100 miles.” Hyungu folded up the map, putting it into the pocket of the flannel he wore. “It shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

And so they prepared for their trek. Yonghoon hoped and prayed for the mileage on his car to do him some justice, for he really had no idea if what was left would get them to their destination. Either way, he was determined to get Giwook some real help.

Hyungu drove with Yonghoon and Giwook, Harin led them on his motorcycle. Despite the peaceful feeling that surrounded the group, Yonghoon clenched the wheel so hard the entire time. His fingers began to cramp up. His knuckles went white.

He didn’t relax until they reached the highway—littered with cars and bodies.

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solshineonyou · 2 years

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Last year i failed to join wevember and as much as i wanna change that for this year AND do the october one, i dont think im mentally capable of doing so with how school is

#onewe fanfiction #writing struggles

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0rgell · 3 months

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The Roommate (And How He Got In Jonghyun's Pants) - JongTae Oneshot

Masterlist

Pairing: Jonghyun x Taemin

Genre: explicit, fluff, roommates AU

Word Count: 6.7k words

You can also find this story on: AO3

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Summary:

Jonghyun, who once didn't like his roommate, now likes him a lot. A whole lot.

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The Roommate (And How He Got In Jonghyun's Pants)

Jonghyun couldn’t afford the rent on his apartment anymore, which frustrated Jonghyun because it wasn’t what he planned on. He didn’t want to share his apartment; he picked that apartment, especially because he could afford the rent. However, his capitalist landlord struck him with the worst news a university student working one job could hear: his landlord wanted to increase his rent. This was typical of a landlord and it made Jonghyun resent them all; they were nothing but power hungry, money hungry bastards in his eyes. So he did what anyone would in that situation: he put up an advertisement for a roommate.

When Taemin and Jonghyun first met, Jonghyun didn’t believe that Taemin was old enough to be in university, let alone old enough to have a job to pay the rent. He nearly laughed at Taemin and walked out of the coffee shop. But unfortunately for him, Taemin was too cute to say no to. Also, he found out that Taemin was only a few years younger than him and he was an anthropology major. So they’ve been roommates for six months now and it's taken time for Jonghyun to get used to always having another person around because he loved solitude and found peace in it. Taemin never left the apartment, unless it was to go to university. But Taemin was also messy and it drove Jonghyun mad. Jonghyun was the type of person to clean up after himself; he’d do it right away. Taemin was the type of person who would wait for his mess to accumulate and then clean it up while making it look very painful, like he had never had to clean up after himself before. He was clumsy as well; Jonghyun didn't even know how many porcelains or glasses he’s had to help clean up and replace.

In retrospect, he should of prepared himself for little things like this. But he didn’t. At least Taemin’s mum always sends side dishes for them to share and she, although he wouldn’t say it out loud, made the most delicious side dishes, better than his own mum.

Taemin walked into the apartment after finishing his day at university in his—Jonghyun’s—black oversized sweater and joggers and greeted Jonghyun while he was cooking for them. Taemin placed his bag down on the kitchen table as he came up behind Jonghyun, looking over his shoulder and sniffing like a rabbit. “Smells good," he commented and Jonghyun laughed. Jonghyun had become used to Taemin and actually found him endearing in almost every way. His clumsiness that once irritated Jonghyun had now wormed its way into his heart and made Jonghyun want to help him, because now Jonghyun feels like he has to look after him, which he doesn’t mind at all. His mess now makes Jonghyun laugh and think about how fitting it is for Taemin, and his strange obsession with cereal, Jonghyun can deal with it all, he wants to deal with it all. Because it’s all Taemin.

“Yeah?” Jonghyun turns around and ruffles Taemin’s hair and Taemin leans into his touch like a kitten. “You hungry?” Taemin hums and closes his eyes, moving his head to let him scratch more at the base of his nape, making Jonghyun’s heart flutter. Jonghyun realised his feelings towards Taemin weren’t just platonic three months after he moved in and ever since he acknowledged them, they’ve grown and consumed him. He's gotten over his awkward part but sometimes he still doesn’t know how to act around the other. Because Taemin does and says a lot of strange things that he doesn’t know makes Jonghyun’s heart beat at a stupid rate. Which wasn’t what he wanted. When he first put up the advertisement for a roommate, before Taemin came into his life, Jonghyun was devoted to his studies and had no interest in relationships whatsoever. But Taemin was too hard not to like—so cute, so ditsy.

“How was Uni?” Jonghyun finds the words to make more conversation because he hasn’t heard Taemin’s voice all day and he misses it.

Taemin pulls away from Jonghyun’s touch and looks at him with wide eyes. “You know that second-year Kibum?” Taemin asks and yes, he does know Kibum; he’s younger than Jonghyun. While Jonghyun is in his last year of his bachelor's degree, Kibum is in his second and Taemin is in his first. Kibum is known by pretty much everyone in the university, or at least anyone with ears and eyes. Kibum is excessively loud in every way—his mouth, his fashion. But apart from all of that, he was the reason Jonghyun realised he was gay. He was the first man Jonghyun ever slept with, and now he’s worried about why Taemin has brought him up.

Cautiously, Jonghyun says, “Yeah, I know him.”

“He won’t stop bothering me! I don’t even know what he wants.” Taemin states candidly, not giving him time to adjust, the words making Jonghyun freeze on the spot. He tries to concentrate on something that isn’t bubbling up inside him, because he is not jealous.

“He probably just wants to talk,” Jonghyun says trying to sound as candid as Taemin just did. He isn’t lying, Kibum probably did just want to talk: whether it was the way Jonghyun wanted it to be or not.

Taemin shrugs and brushes the subject under the rug like he didn’t just make Jonghyun the most jealous person in the world and walks over to the fridge, pulls out a bottle of water, downing it and then, when Jonghyun can’t take his eyes off him, Taemin winks playfully, “Do I have time to have a quick shower and get changed?”

And Jonghyun’s heartbeat is driving him mad; he’s sure Taemin knows what he’s doing to his heart because how could he be that oblivious to his red face? “Yeah, sure, do that," he swallowed thickly, trying not to imagine Taemin in the shower. That's inappropriate. So is watching Taemin walk off and staring at his butt, Taemin doesn’t know any of it. He doesn’t know how Jonghyun’s heart craves him or how much he wants to be around him all the time. He doesn’t need to know either.

Jonghyun busies himself with thoughts like how he needs to buy more eggs and stuff like don’t burn the carbonara because that wouldn’t be good, and he doesn’t have any more money to buy takeout if he fails because he spent it all already on takeouts, restaurants, and rent plus utilities. It’s that time of month when they have to make do with what's in the fridge, and they should really get out of the habit of spending all their money on takeouts and then living on whatever they have left but they are students.

Taemin returns, hair wet, droplets of water down his neck, blue boxers, and a black hoodie. If Jonghyun thought his life couldn’t get any harder, he was wrong. He can’t just stare, but he wants to still look, so he makes the effort to start a conversation, “Nice shower?”

Taemin nods and walks to the cupboard, grabbing two glasses and getting a bottle of merlot out of the wine holder, filling the two glasses and bending down, sticking his butt out so he can be eye level with the glasses so he can make sure they are the same. And Jonghyun tries not to look at his butt. “We're in our ‘WEED era’,” Taemin says it out of nowhere and catches Jonghyun by surprise so he turns around and mixes the pasta—like he definitely was just not looking at the other's arse—releasing its doneness. He starts dishing it up into two blue bowls, which are the most recent addition to their collection. What is a ‘WEED era’ and is Taemin taking drugs? Should Jonghyun be concerned? “What's a ‘WEED era’? And how are you sure I want to be involved?” Jonghyun asks; he doesn’t actually care if Taemin includes him. He wants to be included in everything Taemin does, even if it’s as stupid as joining him in a ‘weed era’.

“Don’t lie, you want to join everything I’m doing." Taemin narrows his eyes, causing Jonghyun to gulp because, can Taemin read his mind? “It stands for ‘we enjoy every day’. I saw it on SNS but actually, it’s pretty cool. So I think I sound pretty cool if I say it. You should be happy I included you.” Taemin is such a nerd and Jonghyun loves it. He loves the way Taemin gets sassy and the way his nose scrunches. He loves the way Taemin puts him on a cliff and then pulls him off the edge but sometimes, just sometimes, he wishes Taemin would push him off the cliff.

Jonghyun didn’t need to think about that; he needed to think about a reply to Taemin. He needs to come up with the right thing to say, something witty or something that doesn’t sound strained, “You’re such a nerd.” And Taemin scrunches his nose up at his reply; his reaction could have been worse. So that feels like a win for Jonghyun. Jonghyun takes the bowls, sits down, and waits for Taemin to join him.

“You like nerds, though.” Taemin gasps as he walks over to the table with the two wine glasses. “Maybe, oh my. Does that mean you like me?” Jonghyun can handle a lot of things Taemin throws his way but Taemin walking in his tiny boxers and accusing him of liking him is something that he never thought he’d have to handle. Struggling now Jonghyun doesn't know where to look so he settles on staring at his pasta. The most Jonghyun can get out is a throttled chuckle as he feels his ears heat up. Whatever happens, he is not going to admit to liking Taemin; no way will he; he’s not going to mess up their friendship. Feeling like he’s on a bed of hot coals he makes use of his hands, tries to swirl his pasta around his fork and shoves the bit he manages to get into his mouth.

And Taemin sits down, placing the wine glasses in front of himself and Jonghyun, expectant eyes like a cat and if he had a tail, it would be swaying side to side. Objectively speaking, Jonghyun doesn’t even know if Taemin likes guys so maybe even if he said he did like him, Taemin wouldn’t even bat an eye. But what's the point if there's a slight chance everything could come crashing down? And maybe if he did take it the right way, what if Taemin felt uncomfortable and then he’d be awkward around Jonghyun and maybe he’d even move out? And Jonghyun needs to stop thinking. So he tries to push the thoughts aside and sinks deeper into his chair, drinking his wine and then sinking deeper. Watching Taemin’s plump lips part, a tiny sliver of his tongue pokes out and he takes the edge of his wine glass in between them. He watches as his Adams apple bobs as he swallows the red liquid and a drop collects at the bottom of his lip, making Jonghyun stretch out and swipe his thumb over it. Soft, warm, and pillowy. Jonghyun wishes he could just kiss him, just once. Someone having lips like Taemin should be a sin; there's no way anyone wouldn’t want to kiss them.

And maybe Jonghyun’s finger lingered for a second too long but when he removed it, his finger wasn't there long enough. He should probably say something, anything, like, “Shall we watch a movie after this?” Yeah, something like that. That was good.

And Taemin makes Jonghyun go sublime as his foot runs down his shin and Jonghyun has to rethink his whole life because, what the fuck, that one touch should not be sending blood straight to his dick and it should not be making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Yeah, sure, I’d love to. But, just saying, I’m not sitting there for an hour while you pick.” Taemin needs to stop talking and let Jonghyun’s brain catch up because it is going to take him a while to reply because all he can see is an angel in front of him.

Nevertheless, Jonghyun smiles and downs his wine and fills both of the glasses to the top, which, is really bad wine etiquette and he knows that. He’d like to get drunk enough to maybe sleep through the movie so he doesn’t have to think about how close Taemin will be, and he wishes Taemin would have mercy on his poor heart. “I’ll wash up then. You can pick the movie.” Jonghyun says, and he collects the bowls.

Jonghyun scrubs the bowls harsher than he should and the blue paint has chipped off—it doesn’t matter because Taemin will probably break them soon—but maybe if he scrubs them like this, he can distract himself from the thoughts swirling around his head that are so not appropriate. Maybe he can scrub away his feelings as well as his heart until they are just specks, like the specks of paint that are being washed down the drain. He hears Taemin hum in the living room, satisfied, and he knows that Taemin has found something, so he should hurry up and finish abusing the bowls, just like his feelings.

He walks into the living room, surrounded by the ambience of a single candle glowing on the coffee table. The room is dark and Taemin is sitting in the middle of the sofa, looking as pretty as a picture. Jonghyun wishes he could have him right there. He absolutely can't so he picks the spot furthest away from Taemin in the corner of the sofa and he curls his legs up so there is no chance of him accidentally touching Tamein and sending his mind into a spiral. Taemin reaches out to the coffee table grabs one of the glasses and hands it to Jonghyun and he must have brought them in when he was washing the bowls. Jonghyun has no limits on wine and he intends to drink as much as he can so he takes the glass from Taemin, their fingers brushing and sending chills down his spine. He’ll drink to that.

The horror film Taemin chose feels like it's playing in the background for Jonghyun; he can’t stop staring at Taemin. It’s not Jonghyun’s fault Taemin is more interesting than the film and it’s also not his fault the wine has completely gone to his head. Well, maybe the last part is his fault; his alcohol tolerance is terrible and he drank the wine knowingly because of this. The atmosphere is so cozy and Jonghyun just wants to grab Taemin and pull him into his lap. He doesn’t know if he wants to kiss him and play with his hair or bend him over the sofa until he cries and his legs shake.

The film is over and the wine glasses are empty and if Taemin asks Jonghyun about what happened, he won’t have an answer. He watches as Taemin gets up from the sofa and makes his way to the kitchen out of his sight, so he gets a blanket to cover himself because the winter weather has crept in through their shitty windows that need reinsulating. Feet rushing, slapping, against the wooden floor makes Jonghyun look up in anticipation, slightly worried and slightly excited to just see Taemin again. A little dance in the doorway makes him laugh. Taemin stood there with another bottle of wine in his hand, looking very accomplished with himself.

“Why are you hogging the blanket?” Taemin asks with a cute scowl on his face as he walks over and sits right next to Jonghyun, shuffling closer and pulling the blanket over him as well. “I got us more wine.”

“I can see that,” Jonghyun muses.

“Let’s watch another movie,” Taemin suggests, but Jonghyun doesn’t need to answer; Taemin will put one on anyway; he knows Jonghyun won’t go to sleep yet. Jonghyun watches as Taemin leans to get the wine glasses, and he catches a glimpse of Taemin's waist, soft and small, and he wants to grab it. He wonders what Taemin would do if he did; would he squirm? Would he laugh and push Jonghyun away, telling him it tickles? Or would he gasp in surprise?

Taemin sits back down too fast for Jonghyun to even try and he hands Jonghyun his glass which is now full and snuggles into his side, his head resting on Jonghyun's shoulder. Without uttering anything, Jonghyun lifts his arm and moves Taemin’s head to his chest as he wraps his arm around Taemin’s waist, as he expected, cute and small. Taemin doesn't actually protest; instead, he does the exact opposite and nuzzles into Jonghyun’s chest. Jonghyun should probably have thought about this beforehand; Taemin will be able to hear his heart. And his heart is pounding at an astronomical rate; if Taemin asks, he’ll just blame it on the alcohol. Yeah.

Throughout the film, Taemin slips further and further down Jonghyun’s chest and he is now on his thigh, one hand under it and the other on top, as if he doesn’t want Jonghyun to move. Jonghyun is not going to move because he can’t. He’s too busy thinking about not getting a boner. Taemin is so close to his dick and he could easily pull Jonghyun’s joggers down and suck his dick with his perfect lips and he’d look so amazing. Breathe. Jonghyun needs to breathe because Taemin is definitely not going to do that and getting a boner while Taemin’s head is right next to his dick would be so embarrassing and Taemin wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye for a week. Taemin does stuff like that; once he walked in on Jonghyun having a shower and he completely freaked out, hand over his eyes, face so red, and apologies spluttering out like quick fire, he couldn’t look Jonghyun in the eye for two weeks after that. And Jonghyun was the one who felt the worst; he hated Taemin avoiding eye contact. He didn’t realise how much he loved Taemin’s eyes and cute fast blinks until he was starved of them. So after that, Jonghyun tried his best to make sure nothing like that could ever happen again. Like now. He can’t get a boner. He can’t. He won’t.

Taemin needs to stop moving because Jonghyun is dying and when Taemin buries his head into Jonghyun’s lap and rubs his face against his thigh, like a cat, a cat that is making Jonghyun’s life so much harder and he should have worn boxers because Taemin just caught the shaft of his dick and forced a deep grunt out of him right from his dick. He’s so screwed. Taemin doesn’t seem embarrassed or perturbed, though. And what takes Jonghyun by surprise is when Taemin does it again, another grunt ripped from his throat. And his dick is now throbbing, half hard, and Taemin doesn’t seem to care. So Jonghyun presses Taemin’s neck down, he’s not sure what he’s doing, but Taemin has frozen, whether it’s from the pressure on the back of his neck or from the realisation of what he was just doing, “Taemin, what are you doing?” Shocked he manages to ask, shocked at how his own voice sounds to his ears. Breathlessly and rougher than it should as if he hadn’t drank water in three days, so he coughs a bit to try and get it back to normal and swallows.

A whine comes out of Taemin’s mouth, so slutty that it goes straight to Jonghyun’s dick, twitching in his joggers. Stuck on what to do and head spinning, Jonghyun pulls Taemin up by his hair, earning him another noise that can’t quite be described half like a moan and half like a groan. Taemin should really stop making all these noises; they aren't doing Jonghyun any good and Jonghyun really needs to think straight.

“Taemin, what are you doing?” He asks again with more authority in his voice because he is not going to screw this up and Taemin needs to be coherent for whatever he thinks he’s doing.

Pink flushed cheeks and fluttering eyes Taemin says, “I want to help you.” All Jonghyun can think is, oh god, and fuck. Taemin looks so sweet but so sinful at the same time, his lips swollen as if he’s been worrying them, and his eyes half-lidded and clouded in a haze of lust. Jonghyun has to dig his heels into the sofa to ground himself. He's trying to think with his brain instead of his dick, but his brain isn’t working; it’s clouded by lust and wine.

“Taemin, what are you talking about?" He needs to get this right. There's no way this is actually happening. Taemin must just be confused, right?

Taemin gives him this look that goes straight to his stomach, only fueling the fire that Taemin started, and he feels caught out for whatever reason. And Jonghyun’s world is shattering and shaking, probably just as much as he is. "Please." There is no way he is actually begging Jonghyun. There is no way. “I know you think of me. I’ve heard you in the shower moaning my name, more than once. Just let me help you, please,” Taemin says in whiney, sultry tones dripping from his mouth.

Taemin doesn’t give Jonghyun time to reply before he palms Jonghyun’s dick through his joggers. Jonghyun’s head falls back and a moan is released from his mouth, submitting to pure hedonism; his mind is wiped blank and he struggles to breathe. He can’t even think about how embarrassed he is that Taemin heard him in the shower, not while Taemin is making him question why he waited so long for this to happen or why he didn’t just make a move on Taemin first, not while Taemin is mouthing his dick through his joggers, turning the light grey fabric to dark grey with his wet patches of saliva. The white heat spreading through his body—feeling something he’s craved for so long—feels like a dream. Not knowing what to do, Jonghyun gips the edge of the sofa, so tight, digging his nails into the poor leather as he tries not to levitate on the feeling as Taemin’s hand slips under his waistband, and when his fingers touch Jonghyun’s dick, his breath hitches. “Taemin.” Jonghyun doesn’t even know why he’s talking; it’s not like he has anything to say after that either. Maybe just to make sure it isn’t a dream and that Taemin is actually there.

The look in Taemin’s eyes is so mischievous as he pulls the other's joggers down. When they get past his dick, his dick springs back up, slaps his stomach, and Taemin mewls at the sight, making Jonghyun feel crazy. Jonghyun can’t get enough of Taemin’s visuals; he can’t get over the way Taemin is licking his lips at the sight of him so when Taemin blows hot air on his dick, he hardly manages to keep his hips from thrusting up. He never thought Taemin would be such a tease or even be interested in him.

Taemin doesn’t seem to care what he’s doing to Jonghyun’s mental state. He sits on Jonghyun’s thighs, looking a mix of angelic and demonic, because who thought Taemin would ever be like this? Jonghyun just marvels at Taemin; his thighs look so soft and feel so impossibly soft and warm on Jonghyun; his dick is hard; and there’s a wet patch forming on his blue boxers. It makes Jonghyun shiver at the thought that he has done that to Taemin.

Taemin drags his finger up Jonghyun’s neck, leaving goosebumps trailing behind until he reaches his jaw and Jonghyun has to suppress a shiver. He stops grabbing Jonghyun’s jaw and smiles, warm and all teeth showing like they would if he smiled at him any other day. Jonghyun feels like he’s just been given whiplash. The seamless change from lust filled cockslut to cute and innocent is absolutely mind boggling to Jonghyun. “You’re so beautiful,” Taemin breathes out and that's the first time Jonghyun has ever been called beautiful. Sure, he’s been called handsome, charming, and other things, but never beautiful . It makes his heart swell and his face glow redder than it did before. If that is possible.

He opens his mouth to reply—he’s not sure what—but is cut off by a pair of warm lips. It takes more than a second for Jonghyun to reciprocate in shock that this is happening and how fast everything is going and when he does, Taemin moans into his mouth, forcing him to swallow the beautiful sounds as he rocks his hips forward, grinding onto Jonghyun’s naked dick. The feeling of Taemin’s warm clothed dick makes Jonghyun release a sound he didn’t think he could make—low, rough, and almost animalistic. With not even a drop of self control left, Jonghyun releases his hands from the sofa and explores Taemin's body, one hand going up his jumper, gabbing his waist soft and warm so tightly that Taemin yelps and the other grabbing his arse, fingers digging into his flesh. He needs something to hold onto; otherwise, he’s not sure what he’ll do.

Jonghyun can hardly resist the urge to bend Taemin over and fuck him, but Taemin started this so he’s going to let Taemin do the leading. No matter how hard it is or how much Jonghyun wants to be in control. This is real and it is happening so Jonghyun takes the opportunity as best he can. Taemin bites down on Jonghyun’s lip, whimpering into his mouth as his hips continue grinding into him, giving him a mixture of pleasure and pain, and once again pulling a grunt from his lip, tongues now exploring each other's mouths, warm, wet, and everything he could ever want. Taemin's arms are now wrapping around Jonghyun’s neck, fingers playing with his short hair at his nape. Fiery passion into every mouth movement, lust and pent up feelings fueling it all, turning them into a beautiful mess of limbs.

When Taemin moves away from Jonghyun, a string of spit hangs from his mouth as he bites his lip, so Jonghyun just has to lean out and wipe it with his thumb, only for Taemin to take it into his mouth, sucks it and roll his tongue over the pad of his thumb. So needy. Jonghyun is beyond repair now and he doesn’t think he will ever be able to stop replaying that moment in his head. Taemin crawls off the sofa with as much grace and elegance as one can and Jonghyun tries not to huff at the loss of Taemin but when he sees Taemin on his knees between his legs, it's enough for him to moan. Jonghyun has always been someone who loves visuals and Taemin is the epitome of a visual; he is adonis; he is art and poetry. Taemin takes Jonghyun into his hand and pumps at a disgustingly slow, mocking pace, making Jonghyun moan and throw his head back, half satisfied that he’s being touched but half desperately needing some more friction. If Taemin doesn’t stop looking at Jonghyun like that—so beautiful, so sinful, so lustful—he doesn’t know how much longer it will be until he grabs Taemin’s hand and fucks himself into it like a brat, and Jonghyun isn’t a brat. “Wow, you’ve got such a pretty dick,” Taemin says while looking at it, watching as it slides up and down in his hand Jonghyun moans in response. “I want to put it in my mouth.” Taemin expresses his thoughts.

Taemin can do whatever he wants. Normally, when having sex, Jonghyun is the one who's teasing and in control; however, today he’ll let Taemin have him any way he wants. “Do it,” is all that Jonghyun can say almost in a whisper; he’s never wanted anything so bad in his life and Taemin’s lips were made for dick sucking, perfect lips for a blowjob. So when Taemin finally wraps his lips around the head of Jonghyun’s cock so wet and so hot that he’s not sure who is moaning louder, the feeling of Taemin's moans vibrating on his dick makes him see white and he thursts up on instinct into Taemin’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat, making Taemin moan and roll his eyes back. Every noise that Jonghyun manages to drag from Taemin’s lips with his dick feels like a blessing and he wonders how much more vocal he’d be with his dick buried deep inside him, or even just one finger.

Taemin gets to work, like he’s done this a hundred times, a soft hand like velvet wrapping around the base of Jonghyun’s dick, going in tandem with his mouth. Submitting himself to Jonghyun’s dick as if it were oxygen. The visual is enough to make Jonghyun cum. Taemin looks so beautiful and so slutty. Cheeks and ears flushed, mouth stuffed full of cock, eyes looking up at Jonghyun through his eyelashes, fluttering and glazed with lust. The air in the room is so hot it could be the gates of hell. If Jonghyun wasn’t so indulged in the feeling of Taemin's mouth, he’d believe that he actually was there but right now he’s feeling like heaven.

Taemin hollows his cheeks and pulls off with a pop, making Jonghyun moan so loudly that he’s nearly embarrassed but he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight as Taemin goes back down on him, using his tongue to swirl around the head and dragging it along all the veins. God. Jonghyun needs this to speed up; he’s been so close to tipping off the edge for what feels like forever so he grabs a fist full of Taemin’s hair and shoves him down, making Taemin practically wail. “So good. You’re so good,” he praises and Taemin releases a whimper and a shiver. Pride swims inside Jonghyun at the reaction and then he realises that Taemin wants to be praised. Taemin deserves all the praise in the world.

He lifts Taemin off by the hair so he can look at him. Taemin sobs at the loss of fullness in his mouth. Taemin is such a dream, so hungry for cock, so beautiful, and for a moment, Jonghyun is mesmerised; lips so swollen dribble down his chin, and he looks so fucked out already. He doesn’t want to imagine what he looks like if this is how fucked out Taemin already looks.

“You look so pretty. Do you like your mouth full of cock?” He’s not looking for a reply but he definitely got one that was less verbal. Taemin latches back on, moans around his dick and increases his pace as his other hand comes forwards to cup the others' balls. He detaches himself from Jonghyun and presses wet kisses to his balls, licking and slightly sucking, while his other hand continues working up and down Jonghyun's length, making Jonghyun gasp in surprise. “So good,” Jonghyun is a babbling mess moaning out praises like a broken vending machine and the knot in Jonghyun’s stomach is close to releasing, he needs Taemin’s lips back around his dick before it snaps so he grabs Taemin's hair and moves him back to his cock. “Fuck Taemin,” Jonghyun moans, dick on fire, toes curling, hand curling tighter into Taemin’s hair, ready to pull him off for when he cums. But when Jonghyun nearly sees white and goes to pull him off Taemin resists; his hands haven't stopped and his mouth is still full but he slacks it slightly and mumbles around Jonghyun’s dick, “Cum in my mouth, please.” Okay. Taemin doesn’t have to ask Jonghyun twice. One hand grips the sofa as Taemin gets back to work again, cheeks hollowed, sucking at an insane pace, hands doing indescribable things. Jonghyun’s dick is hitting the back of Taemin’s throat over and over again, until he feels dizzy and euphoric. His mouth falls open in a silent gasp, his eyes rolling back and trying to keep them open and his head from going slack so he can watch as he fills Taemin’s mouth full of cum.

“Fuck – I’m –” His grip in Taemin’s hair tightens, and Taemin’s hand strokes him quickly, up and down, up and down, lips tightening around him, tongue dancing in patterns, body tensing as he reaches his orgasm, hips bucking up, mind blank, white sparks appearing in front of his eyes as Taemin milks him, cum filling up Taemin’s mouth, a small bit dribbling down the corner of his mouth, his whole body contracting as little electric shocks tingle through him. His hands fall lifelessly, letting go of Taemin’s hair, and his body feels like the life has been sucked out of it. And when Taemin finally lets go of his dick and smiles up at him, he thinks he’s in heaven. Taemin gets off his knees and sits next to Jonghyun and Jonghyun can’t help but notice how much the wet patch on Taemin’s boxers has grown. He reaches out for Taemin and pulls him in for a kiss, not caring if he can taste himself; just so intoxicated by the miracle called Lee Taemin, nothing else matters.

Once Jonghyun has caught his breath and fallen out of his daze, though every second he’s near Taemin feels like one, he moves his hand up Taemin’s thigh, pulling little noises out of him, wanting to bite and leave marks on his soft, pale skin. But before he can even take action on that thought, Taemin’s phone rings.

Fuck.

Taemin grabs it, looks at who's calling and gives Jonghyun a dejected smile, “It’s my mum… I should answer.”

“Yeah… you should,” Jonghyun says as much as he wants Taemin all to himself. To hide him from the world. But he can’t do that, not from Taemin’s own mother.

Taemin nods and walks out, takes the call, and Jonghyun is left to nurse his feelings as they have now swelled to double the size, taking over his body so much it might burst, but he would be happy with that as long as his last thoughts were Taemin. He can’t get the sweet sounds that fell from Taemin’s lips out of his head. He can’t help but think about what Taemin would sound like in other situations while Jonghun is giving and Taemin is receiving. The wine has mostly lost its effect and Jonghyun is just floating on pure ecstasy, floating in the afterglow Taemin has given him.

Taemin is only gone for a few minutes and comes back in, looking sheepish. He smiles and sits back down next to Jonghyun, burying himself into his side, hiding his face in Jonghyun's shoulder and playing with his hands. “Is everything okay?” Jonghyun feels the need to ask, but he can’t help but look at Taemin with adoration, so shy and so cute and somehow he’s managed to curl up so small.

“Yeah, my mum wants me to come over and help her with her computer tomorrow,” Taemin replies, still not looking Jonghyun in the eyes, pink ears peeking out from his hair. Jonghyun feels an itch in his fingers to stroke his hair so he lets his hand scratch Taemin’s head.

“Taemin.” Jonghyun starts but he’s not sure where to finish. There are so many things he wants to say and ask but he’s not sure how to.

Taemin looks at him now, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You’re such a pervert,” Taemin says in a teasing manner, making Jonghyun’s mouth fall open in shock at the sudden accusation.

“What?” Jonghyun asks in utter confusion. Where did the shy little Taemin go? And what even is Taemin on about?

Taemin hums, satisfied with the reaction he got. “You wank off to the thought of me in the shower and thought I wouldn’t know? The walls are literally made of cardboard,” he smiles again, this time the teasing is wiped from his demeanour. “It’s okay, though. It’s hot and I wouldn’t have known you thought about me in that way if I hadn’t heard.” Now Taemin is blabbering his words.

Now it’s Jonghyun’s turn to be embarrassed, but it’s not like he can deny it because he has done that, more times than he is proud of. “I don’t only think of you that way, Taemin. I do actually really like you.” Jonghyun has now let out his feelings, feeling more naked than he did when Taemin was in between his legs. Taemin’s silence is slicing him up like glass and he waits to be turned down, have his heart crushed, and be laughed at. But Taemin would never laugh at him, right? Taemin isn’t like that.

“I like you too.” Jonghyun’s heart swells. “Maybe if you take me on a date and buy me food, I’ll let you fuck my arse,” Taemin replies nonchalantly and absolutely shamelessly, and Jonghyun nearly chokes.

As Jonghyun lets go of the breath he is holding, the laugh that escapes him is loud and sudden and ripples through his body. “Taemin, I already buy you food, and I’ll take you on a date anyway; you don’t need to bribe me,” Jonghyun says after he calms down from laughing. Jonghyun would love to take Taemin out on a date. It's not like he doesn’t take Taemin out for dinner all the time and pay for his food anyway. But if that is what Taemin wants, Jonghyun will give him anything. Everything.

Taemin pouts, “You don’t want to fuck me?”

Of course, he wants to fuck Taemin. Why wouldn't he? If he didn’t, he’d have to be blind or crazy. He’s already crazy, though; just staring at Taemin makes his heart go crazy. “Of course I do! I just don’t need a bribe to take you out on a date.” Jonghyun splutters, stumbling over his words like an idiot, as his heart drops at Taemin’s statement.

A smug smile takes place on Taemin’s face, one that Jonghyun knows, one that says: I was just teasing you . Taemin gets as close as he can to Jonghyun and straddles his legs, looking at him deep in his eyes and Jonghyun swears he can see the world in the others. Two soft hands grab Jonghyun’s face and he’s met with two very soft, inviting lips. Although the kiss is only short, it’s sweet and carries weight. “Good, because if you didn’t say anything, I would have only let you take me out on a date, and you’d get no benefits after,” Taemin laughs, bubbly, hiccuping, and bright. Music to Jonghyun’s ears.

“I guess our date can’t be tomorrow then,” Jonghyun says with sadness lacing his voice a little upset that he can’t take Taemin out as soon as possible. He knows that Taemin can’t drop everything for him and he is being unreasonable getting upset about it. He can take Taemin out whenever he wants after tomorrow; it's only one extra day.

“What? Why?” Taemin asks as quickly as he can, leaning back a bit, and distancing himself from Jonghyun.

Jonghyun laughs at Taemin’s pouty face, completely in awe of him. He leans forward and circles his arms around Taemin’s waist. “You have to help your mum with her computer.” He reminds him.

Taemin now adds a frown to the mix, and he’s so devastatingly cute Jonghyun feels like he might burst. “Oh. Oh… well, can’t we go after I’m finished?” He questions and then his eyebrows pull deeper and deeper while waiting for Jonghyun to answer.

And how could Jonghyun possibly say no to Taemin? How could he ever deny Taemin? Instead of answering, he grabs his face and pulls him in for a long, sweet kiss. “Of course.”

“Good, I would have sulked otherwise,” Taemin admits, beaming so brightly at Jonghyun.

“It’s not just because I want to fuck your arse, either.” Jonghyun jokes, and they both look at each other once again and laugh. Jonghyun is feeling incredibly warm as feelings bubble up in his stomach. Maybe nerves but all he knows is that he gets to take Taemin out on a date tomorrow. So he’s happy with whatever feelings come because he’s got Taemin.

---

Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it.

Everyone have a lovely day, Orgel 🌸

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namelessdubu · 1 month

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I just decided I will start promoting my SHINee fanfictions on AO3.

So as an introduction: I write canon compliant (with a few exceptions), I dedicate mostly to Minkey but I've been trying with some Onyu aswell as 2Min and Jongkey. I love writing long romantic/drama trops but they usually have some smut (at least a bit), I also write quite some PWP because hey life's short.

#shinee fanfic #shinee fanfiction #shinee #shawol #onew #shinee onew #jonghyun #kim kibum #jinki #minho #taemin #minkey #jongkey #taeminkey

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naegashutyoassup · 1 year

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As a writer and also a Shawol, I will still write about Jonghyun. Not because I’m trying to be disrespectful or anything, but it’s because I want to. I’m doing it for the community of grieving Shawols that may need it for some closure and some comfort.

Boundaries are so much better than avoiding him all together, like deciding not to make smut fanfics of him since other types of stories can be made that includes him, but overall I feel like all resources like these should be provided for anyone that needs it.

Us Blingers already have to go through a lot. Having to see our bias get excluded from all SHINee activities and (some of us) getting harassed by people over his passing is already hard as it is. A story can go a long way for someone, and could even make them feel safe through reading. By including him, you’re giving your readers a space they never thought they had. A friend of mine found a writer that includes Jonghyun and it really helped him so much that it encouraged him to publish his own stories he has made of him. This was a smut story as well and it really made him feel less weird about having these thoughts even though he already passed.

So go ahead and be unapologetic about your Jonghyun stories. If anyone tries to harass you over it, just know that you’re not making those books for them, but you’re doing it just to help a community of people that needs it as well as yourself, and that, my friend, is the most beautiful thing a writer can ever do.

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jonghyuns-husband · 1 year

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To all the Shawols that still write for Jonghyun (especially if it’s smut), thank you so much for making me feel like I am not the only person who still fantasise waking up next to him, feeling his smell and even cuddling him in bed. And for you to unapologetically still love him the way you did just over 5 years ago and not change a thing brings some sort of closure of my pure Shawol soul trapped away for me to be the person everyone expects me to be on the day-to-day life. I love how our community consists with like-minded people with the same beliefs as me and wouldn’t harass or even judge me for anything that I do. Thank you.

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dibidibifiction · 6 days

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Hi, fellow Shawols!

I know I haven't posted anything in over a year. I just want to say thank you for the lovely messages and I'm really happy you guys are enjoying my work. It's not perfect, but I'm honored to make some of you happy and give you comfort somehow. I really appreciate you guys.

Also, I'm happy to let you know that I'm currently working on a Taemin series. It's not all finished yet, but I'll be posting by chapter like I've normally done. I hope you'll look forward to it and enjoy it.

Thank you for being here.

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skzhocomments · 8 months

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Broken hearts can heal - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter XIII - Late Honeymoon

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad link

AO3 link

Chapter XII / Chapter XIV

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Chapter XIII - Late Honeymoon

word count: 1.6k words

"I CAME HERE TO DROP SOME MONEY" You sang happily, and Minho joined in.

"DROPPING ALL MY MONEY"

"DROP"

"SOME MONEY!"

"DROP YOUR FUCKING MONEYYY YEA!"

"Da-Eun!!! The uncensored version?!" Minho laughed. You were more than three hours into the trip to the luxury villa Minho's parents' rented out a room for you to have your 'Late Honeymoon', as they liked to call it.

"Oh my God!" You laughed. "What, are you scared of some curse words, mister?"

"Me?! Never! Was just surprised, that's all."

"Why would you be? I cussed you out like 10 times when we fought?!"

"Argh, bringing it up again!"

"What, you think I'd ever let you forget?" You chuckled.

"I kinda like it when you cuss me out."

"Oh?"

"Makes me want to punish you." He smirked.

"Minho!" You playfully slapped his arm. "Don't annoy me, I'll bite you."

"Bet?" He glanced at you threateningly.

"Eyes on the road, please!"

"Oh, are we already there?" He asked as he glanced ahead, making you turn your eyes to the beautiful white villa as well. It looked like something you'd only see in the movies, and you wondered how expensive staying here for 10 nights was.

"Seems so. It's beautiful."

"Yea, it really is."

Minho parked the car, and a valet welcomed the two of you, taking your bags and showing you to the reception.

After checking in, you found out you were going to stay in an elegant, all-white baroque style giant room with a balcony. It was royal looking, but what stood out the most were not the intricate details on the walls, nor the beautiful golden mirror, but the big, king-size bed you were going to be sharing with Minho for almost two weeks.

You couldn't wait to finally sleep next to him.

"Let's get lunch!" He exclaimed and grabbed your hand. It felt nice to hold his hand, and you noticed the golden ring on his finger once again, which made you smile.

You had a wonderful time eating in the garden, then walked along the beach with your feet in the water. It was already July, so the water was warm, and the sun was pleasant on your skin.

You spent the rest of the day lazing around, then went to the gym with Minho for some quick cardio. You weren't really up for intense workouts, but enjoyed watching Minho's back and triceps as he did his usual work-out routine.

After taking a shower and eating dinner, you strolled around the garden, still hand in hand, when you stumbled upon a loud club.

"Shall we go in?" You pointed to it.

"Wanna finally show me your great dance moves?" He chuckled.

"That, and get blackout drunk so I won't remember the embarrassment." You laughed. "Maybe I should get you drunk too."

"Sounds like a good idea!" He laughed as well and dragged you inside.

He didn't waste a second to pull you to the dance floor where multiple people were already drunk and grinding on each other.

"So soon?!" You complained. "I didn't even drink yet!"

"You might want to forget, but I want to remember." He whispered in your ear, making you shudder.

You started dancing to the rhythm of the music, swinging your body left and right. You forgot how good it felt to have no responsibilities, to just let go and enjoy yourself like this. You don't even remember when the last time you did so was.

Hyper aware of Minho's hands on your waist, you placed your hands around his neck. He was tall, and he was gorgeous. The dim lights of the club only made his beautiful big eyes sparkle even more, and oh, how in love you were. And you didn't even drink anything.

He never let go of you, and each song seemed to bring you closer.

Initially, the beats were loud and strong, but as time passed by, the music started getting sensual. When 'Swim' by Chase Atlantic played, you turned yourself around, pressing your back to Minho's body, and started grinding on him slowly, as his hands started feeling you up.

He leaned over and pressed a small kiss to your neck, making you head roll back and glance into his eyes lustfully.

You needed him so badly.

You turned around to face him once more and without thinking it twice, you pressed your lips together and let your tongue play with his.

The kiss was intense and hot, and better than anything you could've imagined. Even better than the one last night.

"Let's get out of here." He spoke hurriedly between your heated kisses, and you exited the club and started heading back to the villa, to your room, stealing kisses every now and then as both of you were desperate to touch the other again.

As soon as you entered the room, your back found the mattress, as you kept kissing Minho, his body on top of yours as you unbuttoned his shirt and felt up his torso. All the time spent in the gym was a blessing to your eyes as you scanned his toned body, your hands feeling the way his muscles reacted to your touch.

He moved his lips to your jaw, then your neck, sucking sweet spots as you moaned and clenched your legs, desperate for some friction, dying to be touched.

He moved down and took your panties off from under your dress, kissing your inner thigh and making you moan once again.

"I've been waiting to repay the favour for so long, love." He spoke slowly as he pressed a gentle kiss on your core, driving you crazy.

He spread your legs apart as he began kissing your pussy passionately, his tongue drawing stripes between your folds. You soon felt two of his fingers at your entrance, slowly making their way inside of you. He was curving them upwards just right, and when he started to lick your sensitive nub as well, you saw stars.

Your orgasm was powerful, violent, but Minho made sure to take care of you and help you through it. Although his mouth never left your core, he was gentle, not wanting to overstimulate you, as he guided you back to Earth.

"Fuck, that was good, fuck-" You started, panting heavily as Minho made his way back to your lips.

"Can I take this off, beautiful?" He grabbed the hem of your dress, so you nodded and sat up, letting him remove your dress above your arms. Your bra was the next one to go, as Minho engulfed your whole body with soft kisses and filled your ears with praises.

When Minho came back on top of you and pressed his body on yours, you were dying with anticipation to feel him inside of you. However, as his dick lined up with your entrance, you decided to push him off you with a slight smirk and hop on top, your legs straddling him.

"Oh?" He grinned as you took his member into your hand and pressed it against your head.

Without saying anything in response, you let your body fall down, feeling a slight stretch as Minho moaned your name. You adjusted to him quickly and started slow movements on top of him, and as you got more confident in your hips and legs' strength, you started bouncing up and down, supporting yourself on his chest.

"You're so good." He praised you, getting out a soft whimper from you. "What is it, love, do you like fucking yourself on my dick so much?"

"Didn't take you for a dirty talker." You grinned, continuing your up-and-down bounce that made you feel so good, you barely focused on Minho's words.

You were almost getting close to your second orgasm when Minho grabbed your arms on his chest and forced you to fall on top of him. He wrapped his arms around your body and held onto you tight as he started thrusting into you strongly. Each thrust made you feel his whole length. You sloppily pressed a wet kiss on his mouth that he was quick to reciprocate.

The knot in your stomach almost came undone, when Minho decided he couldn't get enough of you and changed positions once again, pining you under him as he kept the same steady, quick and confident rhythm.

He took your hands and placed them above your head, holding your palms strongly as he kept thrusting and thrusting, looking deeply into your eyes.

He kissed you again, and again, and again, and when he moved his wet mouth to your neck and sucked a hickey right under your ear, you lost it.

Your palms became fists in his, your fingers intertwined, but instead of slowing his movements down to guide you through this orgasm as well, Minho started moving even quicker. You wondered how he had so much energy to keep going for so long after 2 hours of dancing in the club, but a dancer's gym addict stamina was no joke.

As his movements got sloppier, you knew Minho was approaching his own high, so you let go of his hands and moved yours on his back, your nails slightly scratching his skin while you held onto him.

You were both panting heavily as Minho slowed down and came inside of you with a loud grunt. He stayed inside for a few more moments and his palms found the sides of your face and raised your head to look directly into his eyes.

You looked at each other lovingly, your hurried breaths making your chests rise up and down.

"You are so beautiful." He spoke, almost in a whisper.

You dragged him closer to you, making him let his weight fall on your body, while you caressed his back gently.

"I love you so much, Min." You replied, hugging him. "I really do."

"I love you too, Da-Eun." He confessed, raising his head and kissing you once again.

He pulled out of you and got up from the bed, grabbing your ankles as he started dragging you off the bed.

"Nooooooooooooo~" You screamed, bursting out into laughter. "I wanna sleeep~"

"After we clean up." He chuckled and helped you stand up, both of you hopping into the hot stream of the shower.

---

Chapter XII / Chapter XIV

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pollylovestaemin · 2 months

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ONTAE FIC

Taemin is working on watering, and planting some flowers around the nursery when the door dings. It’s really early so he was semi startled when someone walked in. He set down the watering can so he could give his attention to the young man. He started to turn around, and the man was close; almost too close. He felt an insane amount of body heat, and stumbled back.

“Hi welcome to kkoongie nursery” he blurted out with the last breath he had before turning away.

“Hi thank you” the man said so natchantly like he wasn’t mere inches from his body.

“If you need any help let me know” he said before he went back to watering the plants again.

Taemin notices he keeps glancing over at the young man looking through the different plants, and flowers they have to offer. They have a very large array of them. He sees the young man looking at the yellow tulips. He wonders if he knows in Victorian times their meaning was there's sunshine in your smile, but today they symbolize happiness and hope. When glancing at him through the plants he notices his smile and that definition is very accurate. He thinks he likes the Victorian definition better. He feels his heart start to pick up.

“Hey” Taeyong says from behind him and startles him making him almost drop the watering can.

“What are you doing?” he says through laughs, and he starts to playfully punches his arm when the young man comes over, and clears his throat as if he was standing there for a while. Taemin and Taeyong look over at the same time and Taemin feels himself losing his will to stay focused. He’s just so beautiful. He clears his throat as well, and finally asists him with his purchase.

“Is this all for you today ?” he said without making eye contact and scanning the plant. He wonders if this young man can tell he is nervous around him. “Yes” he said sweetly and smiling as if he read my mind and answered. Everything he does is making Taemin melt. He debates on telling the young man what the definition of the flower means because he did in fact pick up the yellow tulip. But he didn't ask, but also it is my job to know these things. This man is flustering him so bad he’s not sure what to do with himself. He hands the change back by sliding it across the counter so they don't touch. He felt as though he would have felt sparks if they did. This could all be in his head, but he has a desire to know and not to know this young man. He believes knowing him will make his life so fun and fulfilling but also not knowing him might be the better option so he doesn’t get his heart broken again. He tries to say goodbye but the young man leaves quickly.

hello this is just for fun, and this is just a preview. I truly haven't wrote fic since 2014 and my bestie convinced me to write one. So i'm sorry if its bad.. but i hope it's not and you want me to continue! let me know if i should :)

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curlslovekpop · 5 months

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Yule’s Embrace: A Magical Christmas Encounter 🪵 🔥

-—————–———

Word count: 421

Genre: Fantasy Fluff

Pairing: Lee Jinki (Onew) x OC Black Female

———————-———

Amidst the wintry woods, a clash of traditions sparks an unexpected bond between a spirited witch, Cemi, and the warm-hearted Lee Jinki.

-———————

Chapter 1: Clash in the Winter Woods

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Jinki Lee moved through the woods, his steps leaving imprints in the pristine snow. His shoulder-length hair, a dark contrast against the winter backdrop, occasionally caught glimmers of sunlight that danced in the frozen air. He carried himself with a sense of purpose, the nostalgia for familiar traditions etched on his face, unaware of the tempest about to descend upon him in the form of Cemi.

With the determined intent to cut down a small Christmas tree, Jinki raised his axe. The silence was shattered as Cemi emerged from the swirling snowflakes, her presence commanding and fierce. Her eyes blazed with an intensity matched only by the fury in her voice.

"What madness is this?" Her words sliced through the tranquil atmosphere.

Startled, Jinki faltered in his explanation. "I... I just wanted a tree for Christmas. It's a tradition I've always followed."

Cemi's frustration surged, her anger uncontainable. "Tradition? Christmas? You desecrate these woods for your self-centered revelry!"

Jinki attempted to reason, but Cemi's ire refused to subside. "I understand your reverence for Yule, but Christmas holds deep sentimental value for me."

Cemi's eyes flashed with unbridled fury. "Sentiment does not justify the ravaging of nature! This tree, in its tender years, harbors the promise of life, and you would extinguish it for your own ease!"

Their debate escalated, words becoming heated in the icy air. Jinki's explanations fell on deaf ears as Cemi's frustration only intensified, her anger crackling like the frost around them.

"If harm befalls this tree upon my return, I shall cast a curse upon you!" Her voice, a thunderous declaration, reverberated through the woods.

With a whirl of her robes and a resounding boom of thunder, Cemi vanished into the snow, leaving Jinki standing amidst the solemn stillness, a mix of shock and determination etched upon his visage.

Determined to honor his cherished tradition without harm, Jinki braced himself against the biting cold, his thoughts consumed by the challenge that lay ahead amidst the silent embrace of the wintry woods.

—————

>>> Chapter two

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ddingbaragi · 2 years

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Purple is Definitely Your Colour

Kanghyun x Reader word count: 591 fluff

"Why is everything here purple?" You're fond of the colour purple and Kanghyun wants a new hair colour

A/N: I will start moving my onewe imagines from ao3 here. So expect daily updates for the whole week

---

“Why is everything here purple?” Kanghyun asked you.

He had decided to visit your house for a movie night, but now you see a frown on his face due to the fact that a lot of your things: throw pillows, outfits, socks, were all purple.

“What can I say? Purple is a pretty colour,” you grinned.

“At least it looks good, it’s you after all.”

Seriously, why is this guy making you blush?

“Anyways, what do you wanna watch?” You asked.

“Maybe something with purple in it?” He teased, making you roll your eyes. You scrolled through your Netflix, ignoring the blonde-haired boy who sat down next to you. You settled on some movie you have said to Kanghyun you wanted to watch. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed whatever you wanted. You settled back on your couch, making Kanghyun lay his head on your lap. You enjoyed patting his fluffy hair. Although it was a bit brittle due to bleach, you just loved playing with it.

“You know, I actually like purple,” Kanghyun hummed.

“Huh?”

“It’s a nice colour, very soothing,” he said. “I kinda wanna dye my hair purple.” He got up from your lap and sat next to you.

“Why not now?” You offered. “I think I have some purple hair dye.” You paused the movie and got up, rushing to the bathroom. You had attempted to date your hair purple but it did not end up being visible and you did not want to bleach your hair.

“You should try doing it, it would look good on you,” you said, showing him the dye kit. Kanghyun pursed his lips, contemplating whether or not he should do it. Then again, it wouldn’t be a bad idea. With a smile on his face, he got up and walked towards you.

“Let’s do it.”

---

“Are we doing this right?”

You two are currently in your bathroom, Kanghyun having a cloth wrapped around his neck as you attempted - keyword: attempted - to dye his hair. Truth be told, Kanghyun was rather nervous. He hoped you actually knew what you were doing.

“Okay, I think I got all of your hair,” you muttered. “So we just need to wait for a bit.”

So the two of you decided to just wait in the bathroom, occasionally chatting and joking, but it was a bit awkward for the two of you to be in the bathroom. Kanghyun can’t go out, he might get some dye on your stuff. And you can’t leave him alone in the bathroom, you would feel bad.

“Is it time to wash it off?” Kanghyun asked.

You checked the time on your phone. “I think so.”

You helped Kanghyun bow over your bathtub and washed his hair.

“How does it look so far?” He asked.

“Looks… pretty good.”

“You sound unsure.”

“I’m not sure, I can’t tell.”

You heard a groan coming from the guy.

“If my hair is ruined after this I’m painting your hair as well.”

Finally, you finished everything and dried Kanghyun’s hair.”

“So?”

“It… It looks good on you!”

Kanghyun checked in a mirror, humming to himself in delight.

“I like it,” he said. “Do you?”

You nodded. “You look good.”

“Better than before?” He joked.

“Yeah, you look more handsome.”

Kanghyun chuckled and approached you, enveloping you in a hug.

“Thanks,” he said.

Although surprised, you smiled and hugged him back.

“We should get back to the movie before it gets late,” he said.

The two of you continued watching, eventually falling asleep on the couch together.

#onewe imagines #onewe x reader #kanghyun x reader #kang hyungu #onewe fanfiction #fluff #fluff no plot #hair dyeing

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hyubcore · 1 year

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part one .

it’s that time of year leave all our hopelessnesses aside it’s just for a little while

No one thought it would happen that way.

In his mind, there remained a picture of the story—the way things should go. Growing old. Complaining about his aching bones, wondering why the milk goes bad so fast, yelling at whoever his partner would be for leaving the light switch on after leaving a room. That’s how everyone pictured it. The true story.

The air was cold that night. It shouldn’t have been. Several bodies decorated the streets, fire and smoke billowing into the atmosphere in the distance. From afar, the sight was hauntingly beautiful. He caught himself staring in awe. His face reflected against the glass window. Eyes once full of light turned dark. The stench of rotting flesh and burning fuel penetrated the walls of the house and made his head spin. The vision fogged over, the smoke from lootings and fire making everything harder to see.

“I think we need to run,” his father spoke as he packed some water bottles into a duffle bag. “It’s only a matter of time before they make it over here.”

“No. The—the fire. The light of it attracts them. We’re fine here,” his mom argued as she halted from chewing on her fingernails. They were both right. Staying—lying in wait—it was just a death sentence. But who knew what was coming next.

That was the toughest pill to swallow about the real story was that nothing was safe anymore. No one, no place, no thing. Nothing. Every step taken was a step on eggshells.

He looked back out the window.

“Stop that,” scolded his mom, quickly swiping the curtains closed and pulling her son towards her. He exchanged glances with her, then his dad. No one seemed to know what to do. Everything felt like a death sentence.

“I think we should go,” the boy spoke softly. His eyes fluttered between his parents, both who looked lost, broken, defeated. “We need more food. We can find someone who has more, maybe trade stuff with them, I don’t—”

“We’re staying. This is non-negotiable.” His mother walked away from him, back towards the couch and lied down. “I’ll keep watch down here if I have to.”

His father threw the bag down on the floor before beginning to pace around the room. All that lit up the room was the dim lamp in the corner. His father looked ominous, intimidating, in the warmly lit room. He felt afraid of them. Like they were putting him at risk. Their bickering, their constant disagreement—he was an adult. And he acted more like one than his own guardians.

His dad stormed out and back up the steps. The boy could hear him settle into bed. He waited for the sound of the floor creaking above him to cease, then walked over toward his mother. The thoughts whirling around his head—thoughts that he usually could set aside, thoughts about this being the last time he’d see her face—made his stomach churn and tears threaten to fall from his eyes. He knew in his gut that night.

“I’m gonna get some rest too, mom.” He kneeled before her, planting a tender kiss on her head. “I love you.”

It was the last time.

As soon as the noise outside seemed to quiet down, he crept downstairs, back into the darkness of the main floor. If the looting was still going on, the smoke from fires had covered all the light from entering the living room.

The kitchen, though, was as normal as ever. It was as if things never changed in there since things went awry. Photos stuck to the refrigerator by decorative magnets. Garbage bin almost overflowing. He walked to the counter, right where the key hooks remained. He grabbed the keychain that was his, always his—on it was the key to the house, front and back door, and his car key.

Outside was hauntingly quiet, but for some reason was more peaceful than inside the home. He felt free outside. In the few moments he stood out there, just looking at the landscape, the feeling of the fresh air cleansing his lungs—he thought, maybe it was a dream. He looked down at his bare arms, the skin protecting his bone and muscle, and pinched. Hard. Pinched so hard that he bled. He looked back out, the subtle noises in the distance fading into a painful ringing in his head. He wiped the streak of blood from his arm and started towards the car.

The engine started as normal, but the radio was nothing but static and white noise. The sound was deafening. He immediately switched to the CD button, where an old Fall Out Boy album began to spin and bleed through the speakers. As Patrick Stump’s voice blared throughout the vehicle, he drove away. He made sure not to look back. He just focused on the road stretched out in front of him.

He never looked back.

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kikisfuneralservice · 1 year

Photo

HI NEW CHAPTER OF SHINE IS UP! or here on AO3!

i totally didn’t not post for a month! right after i posted the last chapter, a bunch of shit hit the fan all at once, and i didn’t get around to writing, so i apologize... :(

i hope you all enjoy!! thank you for your support.

- anne <3

TAGLIST: @keyloml, @jjongolese, @taeminscheesetouch, @dayskz, @jonghyuns-husband, @taeminscult1, @taeminspussylips

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0rgell · 3 months

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Lovesickness - Taemin Oneshot

Masterlist

Pairing: Taemin (SHINee) x OC (Story is written in 2nd person)

Genre: Explicit, angst

Word Count: 3.2k words

You can also find this story on: AO3

---

Summary:

Taemin's been so busy with his comebacks and you're annoyed at Taemin for accidentally locking Ddaeng in the bathroom all day. He doesn't take your annoyance well, but he makes up for it in the morning. Basically, smut with a little plot.

I'm back with a one shot, finally! It's been a while since I've posted anything but here we are~.

I do not own Taemin or his cats and this is just fiction.

I've got some stories in the making that are coming along well, so I hope everyone looks forward to them🌸

I'd like to thank @skzhocomments for being my beta reader (she's got really good stories).

Please enjoy!

---

Lovesickness

Taemin’s been working so hard for his next comeback and so hard it seems as if he’s forgotten about you. You watch him as he comes back every day and chucks himself into bed and then you watch him leave in the morning after having a shower. As much as you love him, you hate being forgotten but you don’t want to get in between him and his work. It’s always been like that. And you would lose against his work anyway. It’s his life. You once asked him if he lives to work or works to live and he did not say the latter. The balance is unhealthy and his work is his priority at the moment so you just have to wait and try not to get pissed off. But you feel neglected in every way possible. You still remember his last solo comeback and the stress from it, Never Gonna Dance Again : Act 2 and then he went to the military. You were so excited for him to come back home and spend time with you. You missed him so much that it felt like hell. But SM got more of him than you have in years because then there was Hard and now there's Guilty. And you feel guilty for wanting him to stop working on it and just come and smother you in affection.

You feel stupid for not having noticed it earlier, for being so close-minded that you had observed the life of being with an idol only superficially. If you had known, then you doubt you would have rejected Taemin’s advances or his proposal anyway, but you wish you knew what you were getting yourself into from the get-go. He had a way to charm; he was cheeky and cute and his smile had this boyish charm to it. Now he’s like a brick wall, unsociable, and everything you say to him only receives one word answers. You never know if he’s actually listening to you and it frustrates you to no end.

The look Kkong gives you and the nudge of her head tells you to get out of your head and feed her. Because you may as well be the catsitter, the amount of communication you get from Taemin. So you do. You get up, grab the cat's food bowls and walk into the kitchen. As you open the cupboard, you let out a long sigh, grabbing the wet food and emptying it into the bowls. Kkong is already at your feet so you bend down and let her eat as you run your hand along her body. Ddaeng is nowhere to be seen so you call out for him and when he doesn’t come, you worry. You put the food bowl down on the side and start walking around the apartment, calling his name frantically like a lunatic. When you get to the bedroom, you hear a muffled meow from the bathroom so you open it quickly. Ddaeng is sat there looking up at you and you swear you’re going to kill Taemin. You left before him today because you had extra work to catch up on. So that means Ddaeng’s been stuck in the bathroom all day. You bend down to pick up your baby and talk to him, telling him it’s okay and then walk to the kitchen with him in your arms, popping him down on the counter and letting him eat on there. He deserves it after the day he had.

You sit back down on the sofa and turn on the TV, staring at it completely immersed in thought and you just can’t believe Taemin had locked Ddaeng in the bathroom. You stew on it and get angrier and angrier, minutes of stewing turn into hours and during that time, Kkong and Ddaeng come and busy themselves in your lap. The sound of the door pin being inserted and the door opening catches your attention. Taemin comes in silence and ignores you, walking straight to the bedroom after he changed his shoes to slippers.

You turn off the TV and grab both cats, one under each arm, earning a squeak from Kkong, which you are quick to apologise for. Taemin is already face planted on the bed, clothes unchanged: messy hair, which is now brown and long, one slipper hanging on for its dear life, a white wrinkled t-shirt with sweat stains from dancing, and grey joggers—joggers that left nothing to the imagination—and you just couldn’t help but stare and then tell yourself off for thinking things that were so not appropriate for your mood. Blinking in disbelief, you walk over to the bed and sit down, letting the babies free as they prance over to Taemin. You can’t help but call them traitors in your head. “Taemin?” you say, trying to take the edge off your voice.

He lifts his head only slightly before making a grunt and lazily stretching his hand out to pet the cat. You smile, hoping the lingering side-eye you give him warns of best behaviour. “Ddaeng was stuck in the bathroom all day.” You tell him, trying to swallow down the venom that is coating your tongue.

“Why?”

Inexplicable fury blooms in your chest. "YOU—" You need to calm down if you want this conversion to go anywhere. “You trapped him in there. I know you don’t care about me, but you could at least care about the cats!”

He sighs. “He’s fine, though.” Taemin's apathetic behaviour irritates you and a scream is threatening to come out, clawing its way up your throat. You hold it in and put your head in your hands at wit’s ends.

"Still, you need to be responsible. He’s a cat, not a human. If he’s stuck, he can’t get out, and he could have hurt himself trying.” You say reproachfully, stuck on the fact that he won’t just say sorry and that he won’t do it again.

Taemin sits up suddenly and shoots you a glare, brat, and he walks off to the bathroom. You hear him turn on the water and brush his teeth and you can’t get over the fact that he just walked off and glared at you. Taemin has always been like this; he always sulks when being told off and never takes responsibility for his actions. At first, you thought it was cute. He’d pout and pout and wrinkle his nose until you let it go without an apology. But you got sick of it soon because he wouldn’t let it go if it was the other way around. Whatever, you also need to brush your teeth, so you follow, and when you get in the bathroom, you open your mouth to tell him to give your tooth brush, but he cuts you off, starting harshly, “Stop going on about it. I just want to go to sleep. Just-ease up.” ending tiredly.

So you say nothing and somehow your heart clenches and you feel it throbbing. through your body resonating in your chest and you think you heard it crack. No, it is just the toothpaste lid. Taemin’s gotten your tooth brush and put a pea of toothpaste on it. He shoves it into your hand and you start brushing your teeth mechanically, like a robot. But, even after brushing your teeth, you still have a bitter taste lingering in your mouth.

When you’re both done, neither of you speak and you both get into bed, turning away from each other like a brick wall has been put up. It fucking hurts. It hurts more to cry. More, because Taemin knows. He can hear each breath as it's hiccuped out of your chest, and if you tried to hold it, he’d listen to your silence instead, and in the end, maybe you would explode all over him. You can’t hold this in forever. You can’t feel neglected forever and never say anything; maybe you’re just being dramatic. But still, it hurts.

In the morning, you’re woken up by lazy, clumsy kisses peppered all over your face. You barely open your eyes, squinting at the light coming through the bedroom window. You squirm and try to turn over, still upset over last night but Taemin’s hand on your waist stops you and pulls a squeak out of your mouth and you’re slammed back on your back after not getting very far out at all. He pushes himself up against your side, flush against you, and you can feel him.

His peppered kisses turn into sloppy, wet, open-mouthed ones, trailing down your neck as his hand carefully pulls up your top and trails his hand over your stomach, humming into your neck in delight. Your body is flushing hot with arousal; you have missed Taemin. Every part of him—his virility, his soft lips, and his dick. It has been so long; you felt like a nun living in celibacy.

He nibbles lightly on the skin of your collarbone before licking a stripe up your neck and nibbling on your ear. His hand travels down to your heat and he chuckles and takes his hand out of the equation. “Wet already? Did you dream of me.” Smug and confident, he whispered it in your ear. And you can’t speak completely under his spell, heart pounding, with no coherent sentences ready to be formed.

When he finally detaches from your neck, he’s on his next conquest, mouthing all around your breasts, sucking, and biting, and you find it hard to stay still. You squirm and writhe but he holds you still, hands on your hips so brusingly tight. He looks up, lust and hunger in his gaze and smirks. He finds it so funny. Taemin loves teasing you; he treats it like a sport when he can. He gets back to work and lays his tongue flat on your nipple, licking a line and then twirling his tongue around it, his teeth barely nipping. And you whine, jutting your hips up, wanting some release for your core—something to fill you up hot and heavy.

Taemin bathes in the sounds you make; he loves hearing them so he rewards you with a kiss so soft compared to the grip he has on you and you want more; you need to feel that connection. You wonder if you’re the only one whos been sexually frustrated because somehow Taemin is fine apart from his throbbing boner, hot and hard on the side of your thigh, a type of self-control that is inexplicable. You cry out, wanting more of his lips on yours so you reach for his long hair and yank it slightly, unsure if he’d like it. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets out a low growl and his pupils expand. You marvel in amazement.

“So needy,” Taemin tutted and bent down, nipping on your bottom lip and dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips and you relish in his mouth, nibbling and sucking on his top lip and letting out a deep, content breath out of your nose. Your fingers slide in deeper, tangling in his soft, messy hair, surrounding them in his hair and jerking lightly, making the erection between his legs throb against your thigh. You feel like you are in a daze, eyes closed, lips moving lazily against Taemin’s.

Taemin moves away from the kiss and slides his hand into your pyjama shorts and he slowly circles around your clit, sending white heat all over. You move your hands from his hair and grab Taemin's shirt; you know not to interrupt his teasing, your hands twisted up and twisting up further in the white cloth as he uses his other hand to fill your mouth with his fingers, making you moan and your eyes roll back. Taemin loves watching you; he loves voyeurism; he gets off on it; he loves videoing, making sex tapes only to watch them over and over on tour, getting lost in your sounds, face, and body. He once told you that you’re face was perfect for porn. You were offended at first but he explained that you look ethereal while he’s ploughing you in.

Taemin dips his fingers down and teases your hole, dipping in and out of it as you nibble on his finger, wanting him to speed up. But he didn't; instead, he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, pressing on the back of your tongue, making you gag, and pulling a deep breathy chuckle from Taemin’s lips. “Calm down,” he demands, with a smile playing on his lips. He is so cruel, but you can’t lie and say it doesn’t get you off. He slips his finger into your hole, finding that spongy flesh and fingering in and out, hitting the right spot over and over as his thumb rubs circles around your clit. Then another finger inside you, in and out.

“Please,” you beg, pulling Taemin’s top over his head and losing him for a second. He smirks at you and pulls his boxers off.

Before you knew what was going on, Taemin had pulled his fingers out, pulled your shorts off, and grabbed your hips as he bent your legs and as he settled down into you, a string of curses and a deep grunt fell out of his mouth as he closed his eyes for a second, letting the feeling take over his body. The feeling was almost too intense, electricity sprialing from your feet to your head, your thoughts clouded, and your pussy desperately begging for some movement as you clenched around him. Taemin seemed to know what you wanted, his hips rolling in one swift motion, thighs pressing against your arse, and his short fingernails lightly scratching over your skin as his fingers dug in.

“I missed you,” Taemin groaned lowly as you gaze at his dick, appearing and disappearing inside of you again and again, the view being the most pleasurable thing you have seen in a while. You have spent so much time watching porn in the past few months that you feel overwhelmed to see a real dick going in and out of you, toes curling into the sheets as you try to not cum straight away.

“You too,” you manage to mumble in a half moan, voice trembling, hands clawing Taemin’s back as you want him deeper inside you. Taemin tries not to let you have your way, but seeing you move so sensually, lifting your hips to try and get him in deeper, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, eyes hazy and glazed, and strands of hair falling into your face and sticking slightly as small beads of sweat have started forming at your hairline. It makes it hard for him to keep the pace slow.

You have to admit that the sight of Taemin is very appealing—the best view you ever had the honour of seeing. His back feels very soft and taut beneath your palms, making you want to continue touching him, explore the lines of muscles and relearn his body all over again.

“You said I don’t care about you. Do you feel cared for now?” Taemin teases as he takes his dick out of you and before you can whine, he pushes his dick back into your entrance and snaps his hips into you suddenly making you breathless and sending prickles of heat through your body. You run your tongue over your body lip, feeling dry from marvelling up at Taemin because he looks so good right now—golden skin droplets of sweat falling down his face, beautifully catching at his philtrum, making you want to lick it. Such a strong carnal urge takes over you as you grab the back of his head and pull him down into a kiss, not wanting to listen to him talk any more.

Taemin lifts your legs up to his shoulders, making an amazing deepness hitting that spot over and over again. The angle is nearly too much for you, as Taemin leans from the kiss and starts playing with your clit, making you clench around him and earning a groan, sending you off a cliff. You can feel Taemin’s weight inside you; his thrusts are getting more intense and sharp, building up, pushing you down into the mattress; the pressure inside you is building up and the muscles in your abdomen are contracting. Your brain is not functioning fully under the influence of arousal and Taemin. You can feel your orgasm about to come crashing, heart pounding insanely in your chest, feeling like it was about to crack a rib.

Your head lolling back, eyes closed so you don’t have to see how erotic Taemin looks, and your spine arching, welcoming Taemin in deeper as the pressure builds up, coiling, and you’re so close, heavily panting, your nails scratching at his back as you try and take the pounding.

Taemin’s groans and teasing words rolling like waves straight to your core, as he speeds up faster chasing his own orgasm, you take your hands and grab the sheets as he’s pounding you up the bed and white stars flashed behind your eyes as you came undone. Taemin’s relentless pounding didn’t stop; instead, he groans as you tighten and spasm under him, letting out helpless cries and he rides you out on your orgasm. “Look at me,” he instructs, his voice so gruff and demanding that you can’t help but oblige. He whispers dirty, sweet nothings, and then his orgasm hits him hard as his body tenses up, mouth parted open, moans falling out, and his forehead creases, making him look so beautiful and fucked out as sweat drips down his golden chest and his slightly pink face glows in the sun that is cascading through the window.

He clings to you, laboured breaths hitting your lips, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes so glassy as he looks into your eyes lovingly. “I love you,” he laughs lowly and pulls you towards him, his tongue slowly licking along your bottom lip and then giving you a proper kiss. The kiss is sweet. Taemin places his hand on your cheek as he pulls himself out, sending shivers down your spine and pulling staggered moans from him.

He lays down next to you and pulls your head to play on his chest as you listen to his heart pounding. You look up at him. “I love you too, but what was that for?” you ask cheekily.

“I’m sorry for being a dick; you know what I get like during a comeback but it doesn’t mean you should get used to it. I’ll try and get better, more tolerable, and treat you better. Also, where is your engagement ring?” He apologises and stokes strands of hair out of your face.

“Your maid took it off while cleaning,” You tell him, insinuating that you are his maid, which, he doesn’t find funny. He pouts so you press up on one of your hands to get closer to his face and press a soft kiss to his lips as you say, “I hope you do. What time is it, by the way?”

He stretches his arm out and grabs his phone, checking the time: “five-forty-five.”

Your eyes pop out of your head as you moan, “I could have been sleeping; why’d you get me up so early?"

“You weren’t moaning about the time ten minutes ago," he tells you and you can't help but laugh at him and snuggle into his chest as he strokes your hair.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

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