Sub!minho - Tumblr Posts

— sex chocolates & sub ! minho 💗

🏷️ dom!gn!reader, sub!minho, petname “pretty,” aphrodisiacs (sex chocolates), oral fixation, breast play, slight overstimulation.

minho looked up at you through heavy eyelids. he took in the view of your stunning figure from under only to be trapped in a deep kiss.

his lips and yours still have the lingering bittersweet taste of the fancy chocolates.

as his lips pressed harder against yours, his eager tongue swiped across your mouth. the kitten licks from his end prompted you to do the same. your tongues danced together, in such sync that it made your heads spin too fast, but he savored every single bit of it.

the taste of the cocoa delicacy couldn’t leave his mouth. neither could he take the wonderful aroma of the sandalwood scented candle. your touches felt fiery, as if a fever rushed through his system.

“sensitive, pretty?” you asked him.

minho blinked in rapid succession, attempting to focus, but failing miserably at the sight of your warm smile.

“oh, i feel sensitive too,” you giggled, giving him goosebumps.

it’s true, every single little sense in your system suddenly felt ten times worse. the fabric of his shirt felt too much but he started salivating at the feeling of your skin against his. it was difficult for him to describe, but you understood: he could tell by the deep gasps escaping your throat that you enjoyed the feeling of his body writhing under you. you enjoyed the sounds he was making too, moans that he could not be aware of due to his fixation on pleasure.

but too many words are too boring to describe how fucking amazing you both felt.

you undid his shirt faster than ever. he took your top off too, throwing it aggressively on the floor before lifting your hips to help you out of your pants. he took his off, too, but immediately succumbed to his hazy headspace the moment you held his waist.

“pretty boy’s getting eager.” you traced your fingers up his sides, watching him arch his back until his bare chest was up against yours. “gonna put this beautiful body to use, yeah pretty?”

“mhmm,” minho practically whined. begging through hushed exhales and watery eyes, he lowered his head to stare at your chest.

the idea that popped in his head caused him to blush so much that his cheeks were hot. it didn’t help that your hands trailed down his muscles, the underside of his chest, and his broad shoulders — he didn’t realize that he was mirroring the movements on you.

“kiss please?” he begged, so you kissed him. “another?” he asked, so you answered. he didn’t seem satisfied even if he was reeling in the taste of your luscious lips mixed with the bitter aftertaste of the sweets. he drooled mindlessly as he continued to stare at your upper torso.

minho traced an index finger from your neck down to your chest. “can…i…suck, please?”

that alone nearly drove you insane, but you kept it together.

and like any sane person, you wordlessly traced a finger from his chest up to his neck, before holding him by the nape and shoving his head right onto your nipple.

he immediately latched his lips onto you. it almost felt like instinct, especially with his arms soon wrapping around your upper half in a desperate attempt to support you and himself.

silently thanking you, he flicked your nipples with his tongue, dragged kisses around each nipple and even going across your chest. he left love bite after love bite on the surrounding skin, whining every time you chuckled at the sensation.

“pretty, that’s enough.”

you ruffled his hair and then pulled, making him look up at you, showing the mess he made with pink plump lips and an endlessly salivating tongue. you pulled his head up all the way to kiss his open mouth, tasting everything, never minding how your teeth clashed sometimes.

the second your mouth pulled away, though, he chased it, only to be held back by your hand on his scalp. he pouted.

“can’t i return the favor?”

minho nodded but hesitated slightly. he really wanted it, but he wanted to feel something more.

“aw, my pretty boy always wants something in his mouth.” two of your fingers made its way up to tap his lips. the featherlight touch felt like a thousand kisses from heaven.

“how about you suck on these while i taste you?”

without a second thought, minho opened his mouth and circled his tongue around your fingers. he started sucking, kissing, and playing with your digits as you did the same to his chest. you bit down more harshly than he did, the red marks on your skin looking like nothing compared to the purple near-bruises on his. he felt tempted to bite down too, but he restricted himself with a delicious, soothingly sweet moan.

at this point, minho was leaking, his bare cock thumping angrily against your thigh. the feeling alone made him want to release, but he held it in anticipation. it didn’t matter if you denied the orgasm or abused him until his limit, he wouldn’t mind. he couldn’t care less about his own dick.

he cared more about your lips on his.

“fuck, y/n, so fucking good,” his shaky voice vibrated against your fingers and sent tingles down your spine. “i’m gonna cum, please, help me—”

he came all over your lower half, jutting his hips up against your thighs that sat on his lap. you bit on his left nipple, prompting him to release every single drop.

after the entire scene, he still felt sensitive. minho wanted more, so did you, but everything was overwhelming. dizzy, he continued to suck on your neck as you both calmed down.

“what’s sweeter, me or the chocolates?”

minho popped his mouth off your skin to face you. his mind was purely hazed by now, all offered for you to use. his eyes were filled with lust and hunger, a romance that was laced with a dark and bitter flavor that you’ve never seen before.

he wanted you to take the bites, though: savor him well and eat him whole.

“you’re…sweeter than the chocolates.”

saw u reblog a pervy changbin post 😩 spare some pervy skz thoughts maybe 🤲

— skz and perverted thoughts.

sub ! skz ot8 , dom ! gn ! reader 

🏷️ perversion. somnophilia. voyeurism. blasphemy. invasion of privacy. individual scenarios of 8 pining perverts. sorry anon for the late response!

— you’re the reason why bang chan never sleeps.

he knows that neither of you are together…yet. you usually sleep over at his place though, a one-bedroom apartment with an uncomfortable couch, so you’re forced to sleep next to him. chan never tells you this but he gets hard every night you sleep over. he refuses to admit—no, he will never admit that he gets hard to the idea of you sleeping soundly next to him, in nothing but your sleepwear. 

chan constantly thinks about waking you up from your sleep after you’ve taken your clothes off. chan knows that you sleep without underwear — he watched you slip into your pants without putting anything under — and he wants your bare skin on his. he hasn’t seen your eyes fluttered shut in slumber since you two face away, but he thinks about how you could dominate him with the mere awakening of your irises. he wants to shock you so that you can shock him back. chan wants to feel your heavy breath on his heavier exhales instead of the gentle sighs he so desperately wants to wake. he wants to grind on your legs, dig his face in your neck, and whine as you take care of him while half-awake. 

but no, he can’t have that, he can never have that, so he fantasizes. stroking his cock, once, twice, thrice, four times, while you count your sheep to slumber at the same pace.

— minho feasts on whatever eye candy you are.

he can only keep to himself for so long, staring from the chair opposite yours. he’s too dignified; minho hasn’t made his feelings clear with himself, let alone you, so he can’t do much. all he can do is look from a distance. stare. drill his eyes into every single inch of your smooth skin until his pupils dilate. fuck, you’re just his type. oh god, you’re so close yet so far. 

and he wants you to be close. close the physical distance. close in on the friendship and become something more. close, moan “minho, i’m so close.” he wants to have you cum on him, finally let yourself go after ruining him to the point he’s writhing and crying under you. after staring at your hands intertwined with your best friend’s, he realized so badly that he wants your hands on his neck, knocking the wind out of his system. choke him until he wiggles and begs wordlessly for breath—or for more? he can’t tell. he’d be willing to give up the act of being so stuck-up around you and offer a rare sight that only you can see. but no.

the only sight you see of him is a good friend zoning out. minho looks so distant but he’s there, fantasizing, daydreaming about your body, how fucking good you would sound while praising him. you’re so distant, yet you’re right there, like a mere feast for his eyes, but he wants you to eat him alive, feast on him the same way.

— it’s only you who can distract changbin.

your voice echoes through his head. changbin can’t focus on anything else and his vision tunnels. you’re the light at the end of it.

you told him off numerous times to do his job right. it had been a bad day and he tried to sympathize with you — but getting turned on from being scolded doesn’t count. he can’t help the thought of being told to shut up before being called all sorts of names. he daydreamed about getting pounded on the desk, the chair—maybe the floor, where you can ride and degrade him? he wants your fitted suits discarded alongside his. changbin just wants you to lose it on him, use him to let every drop of anger out, slap him, mark him, spit on him, use him. show your true colors instead of acting polite. break in front of him the way he breaks beneath you.

suddenly, you tapped his shoulder, then his screen, sternly reminding him to “get the fuck back to work, darling.” he’d shift his legs to hide his painful and leaking erection.

the cycle continued. you’d scold him, he’d get too horny to function, making you scold him again until it was only the both of you in left the office working overtime. it’s so wrong, getting off on your emotions that you almost can’t control. but damn it, your voice is too pretty, he wants to hear it scream, tell him off, again and again.

— you made hyunjin question everything.

the search bar has “friend walked in on me masturbating.” hyunjin can’t believe he typed that. it’s so unlike him to search for things that weren’t substantial, but maybe self-discovery is just as important. you aren’t watching anymore. but the question just…doesn’t quite cut it. 

he types again. “friend walked in on me masturbating but i liked it.” the results are dubious, some suggesting that it’s normal. some are porn videos — he watched as a lean, tall man got pinned down by another person, getting punished by someone peeping on him. he’s deleting the words key per key, tapping backspace until he’s on the last few letters. “i think i like my friend.” no, he already knew that long ago. “i want to fuck my friend.” no, he’d been fantasizing about that for years. you’re the reason why he masturbated in the first place, thinking of how you could ruin him, fuck his mouth with your crotch, drain him of his cum, fucking his own release back into himself. holy shit, hyunjin, that’s so bad, so bad…

“i want my friend to fuck me.” bingo. but not quite — he just can’t remove the image of your shocked, flustered face, the way you went all red, the way you hesitated and panicked. did you like what you saw? because his dick does.

hyunjin types again. “voyeurism kink guide.”

— jisung shouldn’t get too excited over you.

shock was written all over his face when he found out you liked him back, that you rejected your other best friend all because of him. imagine him riding the highs of the validation, basking in the image of you two being a couple. he loved that you saw nobody else but him.

imagine him riding his pillow to chase his high of release, basking in the image of that plush material being your lower half instead. he loved that you fucked nobody else but him.

maybe he got too pumped over the wrong things. shutting the door behind him and refusing to eavesdrop any longer, he shoved his pants down, frantically freeing his hard cock, and thought of you. you, possessive, in love with him as he was with you. jisung wanted you to own him, make him yours. he wanted to be shoved in between your arms and held up on the wall first before plummeting to the bed, whining and crying nothing but your name. he wants to forget his own. he wants the hands of his longtime crush to crush him and leave his ass bruised and his back arched.

he’s filthy. jisung stared at his hands, coated in cum that won’t stop flowing, wondering if you’re cool dating someone whose first thought about you was sex. sex with feelings, he swears, but he huffs and keeps going, overstimulating himself.

— it was you and a train ride felix couldn’t stand.

he was trying to read the tale of orpheus and eurydice, standing in the moving train, but he ripped his eyes off his book the minute you stood in front of him. stunning, amazing. curse god for making the train cramped today, his erection kept brushing against your legs.

felix felt fire surge between his legs as he took a whiff of your scent, an alluring aroma making its way down his system. you looked like a dream, like a doll that god herself sculpted out of love. he wanted to get a taste of you. he wondered if this is what couples in public transport felt like, dragging their hands down each other, feeling the other up through and under the layers of clothing. how much could he leak when one of your fingers traces down his v-line? felix wondered about the thrill of getting caught, the thought of whimpering just a little too loud for other people to hear, to shift his legs in the wrong way, hitting the wrong person, alerting everyone of your lewd antics. but why, why did he want you to do this to him?

you stood tall until you didn’t, losing balance on him. you thanked felix for catching you, but you didn’t turn his direction for long. like orpheus, he followed you, his eurydice: he can’t let you face him after everything he imagined. he tried not to drool and stared at the back of your head, hoping to only see your face after the train ride.

— seungmin’s the sinner you shouldn’t forgive.

was it his fault if you locked eyes with him first? he looked at the altar and scanned the image of the deity before him, questioning his morals, a feeling he hadn’t felt ever since he kept a penny to himself in first grade. 

he heard you chant in the pew beside him. “i offer my body to you.” he heard you say it, over and over, parts of your body folding into prayer position. you were hypnotizing to witness. seungmin couldn’t help but eye down your irresistible features, watched the glow from the lights hit your face and body in just the right way. he wanted to touch you, a living statue, and he wanted to put a show in front of the altar. he wanted you to ruin him, his upper half hunched over the head of the kneeler. or maybe he wanted to kneel in front of you as he took you in his mouth, tasting every bit of you, licking every drop of your essence as if it were holy water.

you were a fallen angel. sent from the clouds down to the earth to test his temptation, and he was giving in. but you weren’t a messenger, you betrayed your god, and you indulged in his sin, never forgiving him, damning him to the flames of lust for an eternity. he’s gross, but you’re an angel, and he’s chanting his prayer:

“corrupt me, corrupt me, corrupt me, i surrender myself, my body and life, all to you…”

— you should put jeongin where he belongs.

he’s insecure. for the first time in the decade-long relationship, he’s insecure about his place in your commitment. jeongin wasn’t sure if you loved him that much.

that was, until he “accidentally” found your journal entries. he also “stumbled upon” the messages you wrote about him to your friends. he remembered this thrill, similar to the time in the early stages of your relationship where he’d snoop on things such as your plush toys, shirts, underwear…he got a bottle of your perfume just to spritz it on his pants, pretending you were jerking him off from below.

now here he was, surfing through your written words about how much you loved jeongin. you truly loved your boyfriend — but nobody was like him, fucking into his own hand while seeing you gush over him in your friend’s messages. he wanted you to gush all over his cock, his body, his face, only to slap him and scold him, forcing your arms on his cheeks to make him face you in fear. he wanted you to stop him from dealing with your stuff, telling him to mind his own things — exactly the same way you found out he was messing with your underwear before.

jeongin’s thinking please, just please, put me in place, don’t make me go anywhere else, i’ll never doubt you again. i’ll drown in you. 

a/n: @lino-nyangi sent me into a brainrot about sucking on min’s sensitive tiddies and this was born

you don’t think there are many other places you’d rather be than settled on top of minho, straddling his lap while your head is pillowed on his chest. 

he’s just so warm, so sweet and soft and comforting even if he would pretend to bristle at the thought. the way he mumbles his thoughts out loud like he forgets you can hear him, talking about everything and absolutely nothing all at once. the way he’ll move his hand to rub at your shoulder or your back or your scalp every now and then, whenever the thought passes by. 

today though, something is different. you can’t seem to get comfortable, and you wriggle this way and that to find that happy place that you just can’t reach. it’s when you nuzzle your head a little harder into his chest than usual out of frustration that it happens. 

he whines, and when you look up at him he’s matching your surprise on his face like a mirror. your brow furrows as the cogs turn in your head rapidly; did you hit a bruise? are you too heavy on him? does he want you to leave?

but when he exhales, his body shuddering a little further into the mattress under him, you realize slowly that he’s not uncomfortable. you look down and see his nipple pebbling up under his shirt, right where your head was moments ago. he’s turned on. 

“oh,” you breathe out, bringing a finger up to trace around his other pec. he lets out another whine, high in the back of his throat, and when you meet his eyes they’re desperate and a little wild. “you never told me you were so sensitive here.”

instead of an answer he gives you a look, his hips jerking up a bit. 

“you never asked,” he says, voice right but drawn out like he’s trying to sound unaffected. his mistake. 

while one of your hands was circling feather-light touches around his right nipple, the other was sneaking to the bottom of his shirt, and you took the opportunity to slide it under to his left one and pinch it between your fingers. 

his reaction is instant. he throws his head back, a moan slipping from his parted lips from where his mouth parted open. you sooth it after, massaging his skin, and it pulls another whine from him. little pants are escaping him and a blush is rapidly traveling down his neck to his chest, and you swear he’s never looked more beautiful. 

“off,” you demand, tugging at his shirt a bit, and he sits up just enough to pull it off. the movement jostles you a bit in his lap, and you can feel his cock hardening under you. you have to resist the urge to grind down against him when he settles back into the pillows, hyper focused on this new discovery. 

his chest is bare, pretty pink hues splotched all over, and you can’t help but run your hands over the skin. your nails rake over his abdomen, leaving little red paintbrush strokes in their wake. he’s an open canvas, all yours to ruin beautifully. 

he squirms when you lean further down, your breath brushing over his nipples. you look up at him through your lashes, knowing what that does to him, and his eyes are pleasing as they look back. he looks one movement away from pleading you to continue, but you don’t want that. you don’t want him to ask for it, you want to take it. 

you take him in your mouth, eyes fluttering closed as you concentrate on your task. you leave your mouth open, sucking gently and rolling your tongue this way and that, listening to the sounds he’s making for you; small whines in the back of his throat, gasps of shock when you change trajectory. when you switch to his other side he just gets louder, more desperate. you always think he sounds lovely, but the song you’re strumming out of him right now is nothing short of perfection. 

you grind into him, his reactions rendering you unable to stop yourself, and he ruts up into you in little helpless motions. his hands move to either side of your head, warm and trembling as he tilts you just right against him. his eyes are hooded and dark as he looks down at you, nearly possessive, and it sends a shiver wracking down your spine.  

you move your hips more purposefully, the movements of your mouth never slowing even when you start to get tired. you decide to bring your teeth into the equation, lightly scraping them over the sensitive skin of his chest. you suck gently at the spot, blowing cool air over it before leaning back a bit to look at your work. a red splotch is left behind, lonely on the smooth planes of his chest, and that can’t do can it? so you repeat the motion, over and over until his chest is dotted in spots and he’s shaking so much you think he might cry.  

you give one last bite right to his nipple and his eyes roll back as he shudders violently under you. his muscles go completely taught for a moment before he goes boneless, melting into the mattress. he’s staring up at the ceiling with wide, glossy eyes and his breath is coming out in slow pants that shake you as you lay back over his chest. 

“did you come in your pants?” you ask, knowing the answer but wanting to tease him by making him admit it anyways. 

“no?” his voice is high, betraying him along with the tremors that are still shaking in his thighs.  

“so you don’t want me to help you clean up the mess you made down there?” you ask, quirking a brow up at him. his answering pout makes you giggle. 

“i didn’t say that.”