reversed roles
reversed roles | exo/shinee | taemin/jongin | ~900 | in which the benefits of appearing on the same music show are discovered
apparently all my mind supplies me now is porn, oh no.
{ reversed roles
Jongin wishes they had chosen a bigger room, or even the washroom, because the way the handle of the mop digs into his back is decidedly painful, stiff rod pressing into shoulder blades. Jongin doesn’t really understand why Taemin had decide to drag him into the janitor’s closet, especially one that’s practically a corridor away from his group’s changing room.
Taemin’s mouth is hot on his, hands pressed into his waist under his shirt. His hair is a mess, plastered all over his neck and face, and Jongin reaches out a hand to brush away a strand. Taemin raises his own hand and grabs Jongin’s hand, before guiding it to his own lower back. He holds it there even as he presses closer to Jongin, mouth sloppy and insistent. His teeth are harsh against Jongin’s lips, and Jongin swears he tastes copper on his lips. The one hand Taemin has on his waist curls, nails digging crescent trenches into sensitive skin. Jongin feels himself arch involuntarily, hips jerking towards Taemin.
He curls fingers in Taemin’s hair when the latter releases his hand. He likes it when Taemin has these extensions, likes the way he is able to twirl strands around his fingers and tug. Taemin’s mouth is now on his shoulders, and he remembers to only suck bruises at the tip of his shoulders, so no one can see them.
Taemin stops him when he is about to go on his knees to suck him off. Jongin doesn’t know how to react as he watches Taemin get on his knees, because it has always been him blowing Taemin. His heart thunders in his ears as he watches Taemin unzip his pants and tug them down along with his underwear.
Jongin watches with a sort of fascination as Taemin takes the head of his cock in his mouth, sucking on it tentatively. His eyes are trained on Jongin’s face, as if to judge his reaction. Jongin feels himself buck, and the hesitation in Taemin’s eyes fade away. He sucks on Jongin languidly, a hand curled around Jongin’s waist. Jongin feels heat pool at the base of his stomach, watches as a myriad of colours flash behind his eyelids.
Taemin is honestly, not very good at this. His teeth are too harsh sometimes, more pain than pleasure, but the sight of him, with his cock in Taemin’s mouth makes Jongin groan. He twists hair in his hands, and feels a jolt of electricity when Taemin moans around his cock, mouth trembling.
Jongin feels Taemin’s throat constrict around him when Taemin tries to take more of him in. He’s gagging, Jongin realizes, but the pressure on his cock is too much, and his hips jerk once again towards Taemin. Taemin’s nails dig into his hips, trying to move away. His eyes are watering.
“Breathe through your nose, Taemin, relax,” Jongin hears himself say, and he watches as Taemin tries to do that, breathing loud and echoing throughout the tiny room. He stops digging into Jongin’s hips. Taemin swallows again, and Jongin swears he feels his knees buckle as Taemin’s throat tightens around him again.
He comes when his cock is partially in Taemin’s mouth. Taemin tries to swallow it, throat working in overdrive, but he’s not used to this yet, and there’s come trailing down the side of his lips, messy splotches on his chin. His hair sticks to his face, and he's panting, chest falling up and down. His lips are swollen, red, and Jongin thinks he looks vulnerable and ridiculously amazing.
He tugs Taemin up by a hand and pushes him against the door. He crushes his mouth against his, tasting both Taemin and himself. Jongin thinks he is giddy with want, and everything is a blur of a sloppy kiss with too much tongue. Taemin keens and gasps under him as he reaches down a hand, slips into Taemin’s pants and grabs the base of Taemin’s cock. He fingers at the slit, runs a nail across it, and Taemin bites into Jongin’s lips by accident, hips buckling. He jerks Taemin off as they continue kissing, hand curled around Taemin’s cock, circling at the head. His fingers are coated with a layer of pre-come.
Jongin removes his hand when he feels Taemin is at the edge, back arched and knees weak. Taemin whines at him, tries to rub up against him to get his release, but Jongin stops him.
“You still have to perform, sunbae, can’t have you coming in your pants,” Jongin whispers in his ears, before he ducks his head and sucks a bruise into the back of Taemin’s ear. Taemin groans in desperation, hands starting to tug on Jongin’s hips. Jongin swats his hands away.
“You’re going to regret this,” Taemin says, sitting against the door. His voice is hoarse, broken, a little too high, and his hair is still plastered to his skin. His lips are a cherry red. He looks incredibly ravished, and Jongin feels heat circling at his groin.
Jongin crouches beside him, and kisses his cheek. Taemin looks at him in surprise.
“I’ll make it up to you later, promise.”
Taemin smiles.
- flops around uselessly
- what is plot what is real fic
- what are metaphors and similes what are literary devices
- flops
- love you ubomb
apparently all my mind supplies me now is porn, oh no.
{ reversed roles
Jongin wishes they had chosen a bigger room, or even the washroom, because the way the handle of the mop digs into his back is decidedly painful, stiff rod pressing into shoulder blades. Jongin doesn’t really understand why Taemin had decide to drag him into the janitor’s closet, especially one that’s practically a corridor away from his group’s changing room.
Taemin’s mouth is hot on his, hands pressed into his waist under his shirt. His hair is a mess, plastered all over his neck and face, and Jongin reaches out a hand to brush away a strand. Taemin raises his own hand and grabs Jongin’s hand, before guiding it to his own lower back. He holds it there even as he presses closer to Jongin, mouth sloppy and insistent. His teeth are harsh against Jongin’s lips, and Jongin swears he tastes copper on his lips. The one hand Taemin has on his waist curls, nails digging crescent trenches into sensitive skin. Jongin feels himself arch involuntarily, hips jerking towards Taemin.
He curls fingers in Taemin’s hair when the latter releases his hand. He likes it when Taemin has these extensions, likes the way he is able to twirl strands around his fingers and tug. Taemin’s mouth is now on his shoulders, and he remembers to only suck bruises at the tip of his shoulders, so no one can see them.
Taemin stops him when he is about to go on his knees to suck him off. Jongin doesn’t know how to react as he watches Taemin get on his knees, because it has always been him blowing Taemin. His heart thunders in his ears as he watches Taemin unzip his pants and tug them down along with his underwear.
Jongin watches with a sort of fascination as Taemin takes the head of his cock in his mouth, sucking on it tentatively. His eyes are trained on Jongin’s face, as if to judge his reaction. Jongin feels himself buck, and the hesitation in Taemin’s eyes fade away. He sucks on Jongin languidly, a hand curled around Jongin’s waist. Jongin feels heat pool at the base of his stomach, watches as a myriad of colours flash behind his eyelids.
Taemin is honestly, not very good at this. His teeth are too harsh sometimes, more pain than pleasure, but the sight of him, with his cock in Taemin’s mouth makes Jongin groan. He twists hair in his hands, and feels a jolt of electricity when Taemin moans around his cock, mouth trembling.
Jongin feels Taemin’s throat constrict around him when Taemin tries to take more of him in. He’s gagging, Jongin realizes, but the pressure on his cock is too much, and his hips jerk once again towards Taemin. Taemin’s nails dig into his hips, trying to move away. His eyes are watering.
“Breathe through your nose, Taemin, relax,” Jongin hears himself say, and he watches as Taemin tries to do that, breathing loud and echoing throughout the tiny room. He stops digging into Jongin’s hips. Taemin swallows again, and Jongin swears he feels his knees buckle as Taemin’s throat tightens around him again.
He comes when his cock is partially in Taemin’s mouth. Taemin tries to swallow it, throat working in overdrive, but he’s not used to this yet, and there’s come trailing down the side of his lips, messy splotches on his chin. His hair sticks to his face, and he's panting, chest falling up and down. His lips are swollen, red, and Jongin thinks he looks vulnerable and ridiculously amazing.
He tugs Taemin up by a hand and pushes him against the door. He crushes his mouth against his, tasting both Taemin and himself. Jongin thinks he is giddy with want, and everything is a blur of a sloppy kiss with too much tongue. Taemin keens and gasps under him as he reaches down a hand, slips into Taemin’s pants and grabs the base of Taemin’s cock. He fingers at the slit, runs a nail across it, and Taemin bites into Jongin’s lips by accident, hips buckling. He jerks Taemin off as they continue kissing, hand curled around Taemin’s cock, circling at the head. His fingers are coated with a layer of pre-come.
Jongin removes his hand when he feels Taemin is at the edge, back arched and knees weak. Taemin whines at him, tries to rub up against him to get his release, but Jongin stops him.
“You still have to perform, sunbae, can’t have you coming in your pants,” Jongin whispers in his ears, before he ducks his head and sucks a bruise into the back of Taemin’s ear. Taemin groans in desperation, hands starting to tug on Jongin’s hips. Jongin swats his hands away.
“You’re going to regret this,” Taemin says, sitting against the door. His voice is hoarse, broken, a little too high, and his hair is still plastered to his skin. His lips are a cherry red. He looks incredibly ravished, and Jongin feels heat circling at his groin.
Jongin crouches beside him, and kisses his cheek. Taemin looks at him in surprise.
“I’ll make it up to you later, promise.”
Taemin smiles.
- flops around uselessly
- what is plot what is real fic
- what are metaphors and similes what are literary devices
- flops
- love you ubomb