If I Was You
Title: If I Was You
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: If Minho was Taemin, he’d misbehave a lot more.
Notes: An anon that goes by the name Zombie mentioned 2min and ice cubes a while ago, so I worked it into this. ^^ Listened to the song “If I Was You” by Far East Movement on repeat, hence the title, hurrhurr.
Lace swished over milky thighs as heels clacked over linoleum, ruffles softening sharp hips as dainty fingers tied a ribbon at the base of a milky back, the flutter of dark lashes hiding the glint of warm honey eyes, all of which was being drank in greedily by Minho, who was seated on the couch inside the hotel room, the veranda doors open to let in a breeze of the warm, sunny afternoon. His mouth went dry as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, eyes straying over the form of the person in front of him as bits of skin was exposed here and there; the rapper spread his legs to alleviate the pressure in his pants, watching as red hair curtained mischievous eyes.
From the kitchenette Taemin grabbed an open bottle of champagne, though Minho’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything other than the cinched waist of the maid costume that was accentuating all of what he couldn’t see. Stilettos adorned Taemin’s feet and ribbons wrapped up his slender calves, tying in cute bows beneath the backs of his knees, a smirk on glossed lips as he walked over the plush carpet, the heel of his shoes leaving indentations in the floor as he made his way to Minho.
Dressed the part to take care of the older boy, Taemin would carry out his tasks with the utmost efficiency. He had a slightly catering personality, even if it was for his own personal gain in the end - rewards that Minho would gladly give the maknae after the day was over. It wasn’t often Minho got to sit back and enjoy Taemin’s whims, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to last long today as the redhead reached out with long fingers to gently brush Minho’s hair out of his vision.
Tilting his head back, Minho’s eyes lidded as Taemin put the bottle of champagne to his painted lips, tipping it up a bit before he set the bottle down on the coffee table. He stepped up to Minho, his hands resting on Minho’s knees as he bent down, the cleavage of his chest ill-concealed as the frill of the costume waved with the motion, some bubbly dripping from his lips as he leaned closer to the older man.
Their lips connected and the champagne passed between them, Minho accepting the kiss and wrapping the fingers of one of his hands around Taemin’s thin wrist, tugging him forward, making the younger gasp lightly as he clambered onto the rapper’s lap, his slender thighs straddling the taller man. Minho smirked and moved his hands around to grip at Taemin’s ass, feeling the ruffles of his panties; his fingers hooked on the elastic and teased it aside slowly as his lips dragged down over Taemin’s jaw line, the maknae tilting his head to the side and letting out a soft pant, his eyes closing as his fingers gripped at the lapels of Minho’s open blazer.
Instinctively, Taemin’s hips ground downwards. Minho made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat, slapping Taemin’s ass cheek lightly in warning with his other hand as he removed his fingers from the elastic, and Taemin licked his lips, the gloss having long faded. Gripping the redhead’s hips, Minho guided the younger man off of his lap before shoving him down into the couch face-first, his hand pressed into the center of the maknae’s back, keeping him pinned as he started to undo the corset of the costume. Taemin’s head turned to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes closed as he panted out, whining and gripping onto the pillow, spreading his legs and pushing backwards so his ass connected with Minho’s groin - Minho gave his ass another hard smack, a final warning, and Taemin whimpered before stilling, allowing Minho to pull the costume free.
Minho arched a brow, tracing his finger along the black undergarment that clung to Taemin’s body, “A bra?”
Taemin said nothing, and Minho decided to leave the bra on, liking the way it clung onto Taemin’s curves, admiring the way the black contrasted against his pale skin. He kissed his way down the maknae’s spine, carefully pushing the other’s knees apart and letting his tongue trace idle patterns on the redhead’s vertebrae; Minho pulled away and chuckled, laying back against the cushions and stretching out, making Taemin whine in frustration.
“Go get the ice bucket.”
Standing on wobbly feet, Taemin walked back to the kitchenette to obey the command, the stilettos clacking musically on the floor, his right ass cheek tinged pink from abuse and exposed by the racy underwear. One of his bra straps was falling down and he didn’t bother correcting it as he grabbed the ice bucket that the champagne had originally been cooling in, bringing it over to the coffee table and setting it down, and then Minho patted his lap. Returning to his place, Taemin slid onto Minho’s lap, the head of his cock pressed against his flat stomach and not even concealed by his panties, leaking pre-cum as he whined softly.
Minho leaned forward, kissing along Taemin’s shoulder, fixing Taemin’s bra strap, letting his fingers drag over the skin, watching as the goosebumps sprang in the wake of his breath.
“Touch yourself,” Minho commanded, loving the sound of the maknae’s breath hitching in his throat, addicted to the feeling of Taemin’s heart beat skipping under his fingertips.
But Taemin obeyed, moving a hand between them to take his trapped erection and start stroking, his head dropping back and eyes closing, a muted pant leaving his throat.
“Mmm,” Minho hummed low in his chest as he reached out with a long arm to grab a cube of ice, just holding it in his fingers, letting it melt a little. “I bet you touch yourself a lot.”
Taemin shook his head furiously in the negative.
“You don’t?” Minho sounded surprised, as he brought the ice cube up to trace it over Taemin’s collar bones. Taemin let out a strangled gasp, his adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes opened, pupils blown, and Minho smirked a bit. “Someone as pretty as you… I bet you touch yourself all the time.”
Again, Taemin shook his head, and Minho let go of the ice cube, letting it drop into one of the cups of the bra, where it stayed trapped, the heat of Taemin’s body melting it rapidly and making the teen writhe on Minho’s lap with the sensation of the cold water trickling down his torso.
“Don’t lie.” Minho grabbed another ice cube and pressed it into the base of Taemin’s spine, making Taemin arch his back and moan loudly. “I would… if I was you.”
Taemin’s thighs quaked and Minho knew that as a warning sign - he pulled the ice cube away and shoved it between Taemin’s lips, making the maknae cough in surprise, the brain freeze halting his orgasm as Minho slapped his hands away from his cock, smirking and chuckling.
“You little narcissist.”
Taemin’s eyes were watering, but Minho knew that he wasn’t really hurting Taemin’s feelings. Running his hands over Taemin’s thighs, Minho watched him suck on the ice cube for a few seconds before he nudged the maknae to get off of his lap and kneel on the floor, working on undoing his belt and pants. With lips red and swollen from the cold cube, Minho couldn’t wait to feel them around his hot cock - Taemin wasted no time, pulling Minho’s cock out of his boxers and wrapping his lips around the tip, making the rapper groan and sink back into the couch cushions.
“Fuuuuck…” he ran his fingers through Taemin’s bangs before pushing them back so he could watch those lips stretch around his cock, his hips pulsing upwards a bit. “Yeah…”
Taemin pulled back and licked down Minho’s shaft, letting the remaining water from the melted ice cube in his mouth dribble down to coat the entire length, Minho hissing through his teeth as the cold water got warmed by Taemin’s hot breath. His toes curled in his shoes and Taemin stood up, climbing on top of his lap once more and Minho’s fingers moved to the black lacy panties, sliding along the elastic of the waistband around to the back, pulling the material aside to expose his goal, his finger teasing along the taint lightly, Taemin shivering and pressing their chests together.
Lifting a foot, Minho caught the coffee table with the toe of his shoe to pull it closer, reaching out to pick up another ice cube, smirking as Taemin nuzzled his face into his neck, the entirety of his body flushed a pretty pink and radiating with the heat of his arousal. Pressing the ice cube against Taemin’s ass, Minho’s other hand kept the maknae still as he carefully slid the frozen water inside of the redhead’s body, Taemin’s mouth opening against Minho’s neck to let out a drawn out, ragged moan, his voice wrecked from last night’s treatment as his teeth graze over Minho’s skin. Chuckling, Minho pushed the ice cube completely into Taemin’s body and held a finger over his hole, keeping the liquid inside as it melted, Taemin writhing with the sensation as his fingers twisted in the lapels of his blazer once more, his spine twisting as he bucked his hips, pre-cum dripping from his cock down onto Minho’s boxers.
Slipping a finger inside, some water slipped out of Taemin’s body, sliding down Taemin’s thigh as Minho started to thrust his finger in and out of the slick entrance. Adding a second finger, Minho grinned as Taemin started to fuck back onto his fingers, one of the heels of his shoes knocking into the coffee table and jolting it away as Minho hitched him farther up on his lap, the heat of Taemin’s body having melted the ice so quickly Minho was finding it hard to keep himself out of it.
Shifting, he guided Taemin up and removed his fingers, grunting as Taemin wasted no time in sitting himself down on Minho’s cock. With his erection still trapped by the material of his frilly panties, Taemin started to bounce up and down on Minho’s cock, one hand twisted in the material of the rapper’s shirt, the other hand bracing himself on Minho’s thigh. Dropping his head back, Minho watched as the straps of the bra fell down on Taemin’s biceps, before he reached up and once more slammed Taemin down into the couch, gracelessly ripping the panties off of the maknae and throwing them aside before plowing back into his pliant body, reaching down to grab the bra straps and use them as imitation reigns, keeping Taemin’s back arched and ass up, head down as Minho fucked him into the cushions.
Taemin came first, collapsing onto the couch breathlessly. Minho pulled out and knelt down by Taemin’s head, jerking his cock and grabbing Taemin by the hair to hold his head up; opening his mouth, Taemin waited and closed his eyes, barely wincing as the pay load shot onto his lips and cheeks, Minho standing and catching his breath, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
Picking up the champagne and putting it in the ice bucket, Minho returned the items to the kitchen, before glancing back at Taemin, who was still wiped out on the couch.
“Clean up, we have a schedule,” Minho said, tossing a towel to Taemin, who looked up at him through thick lashes, the tip of his tongue darting out to slowly drag over his lower lip. “If I was you…” the rapper kneeled down and ruffled Taemin’s hair affectionately, kissing his forehead. “I’d tell me to take a hike.”
“Good thing you’re not me,” Taemin said with a grin, pushing Minho away as he gathered his maid costume and went off to the bathroom to clean up.
Minho stood up and scratched his head, staring down at the panties he had destroyed.
Yeah… definitely a good thing he wasn’t Taemin.
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: If Minho was Taemin, he’d misbehave a lot more.
Notes: An anon that goes by the name Zombie mentioned 2min and ice cubes a while ago, so I worked it into this. ^^ Listened to the song “If I Was You” by Far East Movement on repeat, hence the title, hurrhurr.
Lace swished over milky thighs as heels clacked over linoleum, ruffles softening sharp hips as dainty fingers tied a ribbon at the base of a milky back, the flutter of dark lashes hiding the glint of warm honey eyes, all of which was being drank in greedily by Minho, who was seated on the couch inside the hotel room, the veranda doors open to let in a breeze of the warm, sunny afternoon. His mouth went dry as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, eyes straying over the form of the person in front of him as bits of skin was exposed here and there; the rapper spread his legs to alleviate the pressure in his pants, watching as red hair curtained mischievous eyes.
From the kitchenette Taemin grabbed an open bottle of champagne, though Minho’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything other than the cinched waist of the maid costume that was accentuating all of what he couldn’t see. Stilettos adorned Taemin’s feet and ribbons wrapped up his slender calves, tying in cute bows beneath the backs of his knees, a smirk on glossed lips as he walked over the plush carpet, the heel of his shoes leaving indentations in the floor as he made his way to Minho.
Dressed the part to take care of the older boy, Taemin would carry out his tasks with the utmost efficiency. He had a slightly catering personality, even if it was for his own personal gain in the end - rewards that Minho would gladly give the maknae after the day was over. It wasn’t often Minho got to sit back and enjoy Taemin’s whims, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to last long today as the redhead reached out with long fingers to gently brush Minho’s hair out of his vision.
Tilting his head back, Minho’s eyes lidded as Taemin put the bottle of champagne to his painted lips, tipping it up a bit before he set the bottle down on the coffee table. He stepped up to Minho, his hands resting on Minho’s knees as he bent down, the cleavage of his chest ill-concealed as the frill of the costume waved with the motion, some bubbly dripping from his lips as he leaned closer to the older man.
Their lips connected and the champagne passed between them, Minho accepting the kiss and wrapping the fingers of one of his hands around Taemin’s thin wrist, tugging him forward, making the younger gasp lightly as he clambered onto the rapper’s lap, his slender thighs straddling the taller man. Minho smirked and moved his hands around to grip at Taemin’s ass, feeling the ruffles of his panties; his fingers hooked on the elastic and teased it aside slowly as his lips dragged down over Taemin’s jaw line, the maknae tilting his head to the side and letting out a soft pant, his eyes closing as his fingers gripped at the lapels of Minho’s open blazer.
Instinctively, Taemin’s hips ground downwards. Minho made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat, slapping Taemin’s ass cheek lightly in warning with his other hand as he removed his fingers from the elastic, and Taemin licked his lips, the gloss having long faded. Gripping the redhead’s hips, Minho guided the younger man off of his lap before shoving him down into the couch face-first, his hand pressed into the center of the maknae’s back, keeping him pinned as he started to undo the corset of the costume. Taemin’s head turned to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes closed as he panted out, whining and gripping onto the pillow, spreading his legs and pushing backwards so his ass connected with Minho’s groin - Minho gave his ass another hard smack, a final warning, and Taemin whimpered before stilling, allowing Minho to pull the costume free.
Minho arched a brow, tracing his finger along the black undergarment that clung to Taemin’s body, “A bra?”
Taemin said nothing, and Minho decided to leave the bra on, liking the way it clung onto Taemin’s curves, admiring the way the black contrasted against his pale skin. He kissed his way down the maknae’s spine, carefully pushing the other’s knees apart and letting his tongue trace idle patterns on the redhead’s vertebrae; Minho pulled away and chuckled, laying back against the cushions and stretching out, making Taemin whine in frustration.
“Go get the ice bucket.”
Standing on wobbly feet, Taemin walked back to the kitchenette to obey the command, the stilettos clacking musically on the floor, his right ass cheek tinged pink from abuse and exposed by the racy underwear. One of his bra straps was falling down and he didn’t bother correcting it as he grabbed the ice bucket that the champagne had originally been cooling in, bringing it over to the coffee table and setting it down, and then Minho patted his lap. Returning to his place, Taemin slid onto Minho’s lap, the head of his cock pressed against his flat stomach and not even concealed by his panties, leaking pre-cum as he whined softly.
Minho leaned forward, kissing along Taemin’s shoulder, fixing Taemin’s bra strap, letting his fingers drag over the skin, watching as the goosebumps sprang in the wake of his breath.
“Touch yourself,” Minho commanded, loving the sound of the maknae’s breath hitching in his throat, addicted to the feeling of Taemin’s heart beat skipping under his fingertips.
But Taemin obeyed, moving a hand between them to take his trapped erection and start stroking, his head dropping back and eyes closing, a muted pant leaving his throat.
“Mmm,” Minho hummed low in his chest as he reached out with a long arm to grab a cube of ice, just holding it in his fingers, letting it melt a little. “I bet you touch yourself a lot.”
Taemin shook his head furiously in the negative.
“You don’t?” Minho sounded surprised, as he brought the ice cube up to trace it over Taemin’s collar bones. Taemin let out a strangled gasp, his adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes opened, pupils blown, and Minho smirked a bit. “Someone as pretty as you… I bet you touch yourself all the time.”
Again, Taemin shook his head, and Minho let go of the ice cube, letting it drop into one of the cups of the bra, where it stayed trapped, the heat of Taemin’s body melting it rapidly and making the teen writhe on Minho’s lap with the sensation of the cold water trickling down his torso.
“Don’t lie.” Minho grabbed another ice cube and pressed it into the base of Taemin’s spine, making Taemin arch his back and moan loudly. “I would… if I was you.”
Taemin’s thighs quaked and Minho knew that as a warning sign - he pulled the ice cube away and shoved it between Taemin’s lips, making the maknae cough in surprise, the brain freeze halting his orgasm as Minho slapped his hands away from his cock, smirking and chuckling.
“You little narcissist.”
Taemin’s eyes were watering, but Minho knew that he wasn’t really hurting Taemin’s feelings. Running his hands over Taemin’s thighs, Minho watched him suck on the ice cube for a few seconds before he nudged the maknae to get off of his lap and kneel on the floor, working on undoing his belt and pants. With lips red and swollen from the cold cube, Minho couldn’t wait to feel them around his hot cock - Taemin wasted no time, pulling Minho’s cock out of his boxers and wrapping his lips around the tip, making the rapper groan and sink back into the couch cushions.
“Fuuuuck…” he ran his fingers through Taemin’s bangs before pushing them back so he could watch those lips stretch around his cock, his hips pulsing upwards a bit. “Yeah…”
Taemin pulled back and licked down Minho’s shaft, letting the remaining water from the melted ice cube in his mouth dribble down to coat the entire length, Minho hissing through his teeth as the cold water got warmed by Taemin’s hot breath. His toes curled in his shoes and Taemin stood up, climbing on top of his lap once more and Minho’s fingers moved to the black lacy panties, sliding along the elastic of the waistband around to the back, pulling the material aside to expose his goal, his finger teasing along the taint lightly, Taemin shivering and pressing their chests together.
Lifting a foot, Minho caught the coffee table with the toe of his shoe to pull it closer, reaching out to pick up another ice cube, smirking as Taemin nuzzled his face into his neck, the entirety of his body flushed a pretty pink and radiating with the heat of his arousal. Pressing the ice cube against Taemin’s ass, Minho’s other hand kept the maknae still as he carefully slid the frozen water inside of the redhead’s body, Taemin’s mouth opening against Minho’s neck to let out a drawn out, ragged moan, his voice wrecked from last night’s treatment as his teeth graze over Minho’s skin. Chuckling, Minho pushed the ice cube completely into Taemin’s body and held a finger over his hole, keeping the liquid inside as it melted, Taemin writhing with the sensation as his fingers twisted in the lapels of his blazer once more, his spine twisting as he bucked his hips, pre-cum dripping from his cock down onto Minho’s boxers.
Slipping a finger inside, some water slipped out of Taemin’s body, sliding down Taemin’s thigh as Minho started to thrust his finger in and out of the slick entrance. Adding a second finger, Minho grinned as Taemin started to fuck back onto his fingers, one of the heels of his shoes knocking into the coffee table and jolting it away as Minho hitched him farther up on his lap, the heat of Taemin’s body having melted the ice so quickly Minho was finding it hard to keep himself out of it.
Shifting, he guided Taemin up and removed his fingers, grunting as Taemin wasted no time in sitting himself down on Minho’s cock. With his erection still trapped by the material of his frilly panties, Taemin started to bounce up and down on Minho’s cock, one hand twisted in the material of the rapper’s shirt, the other hand bracing himself on Minho’s thigh. Dropping his head back, Minho watched as the straps of the bra fell down on Taemin’s biceps, before he reached up and once more slammed Taemin down into the couch, gracelessly ripping the panties off of the maknae and throwing them aside before plowing back into his pliant body, reaching down to grab the bra straps and use them as imitation reigns, keeping Taemin’s back arched and ass up, head down as Minho fucked him into the cushions.
Taemin came first, collapsing onto the couch breathlessly. Minho pulled out and knelt down by Taemin’s head, jerking his cock and grabbing Taemin by the hair to hold his head up; opening his mouth, Taemin waited and closed his eyes, barely wincing as the pay load shot onto his lips and cheeks, Minho standing and catching his breath, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
Picking up the champagne and putting it in the ice bucket, Minho returned the items to the kitchen, before glancing back at Taemin, who was still wiped out on the couch.
“Clean up, we have a schedule,” Minho said, tossing a towel to Taemin, who looked up at him through thick lashes, the tip of his tongue darting out to slowly drag over his lower lip. “If I was you…” the rapper kneeled down and ruffled Taemin’s hair affectionately, kissing his forehead. “I’d tell me to take a hike.”
“Good thing you’re not me,” Taemin said with a grin, pushing Minho away as he gathered his maid costume and went off to the bathroom to clean up.
Minho stood up and scratched his head, staring down at the panties he had destroyed.
Yeah… definitely a good thing he wasn’t Taemin.