#l.mh

[bangchangbinnie]

A love not recalled l.mh

Lee Know x reader

After an argument that should have never happened, Lee know is left regretful, not realizing he’d need a lot more than apologies to fix the pain

Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Car accident, memory loss, emotional distress, breakdown

The morning was slow, quiet, a gentle hum of normalcy before the storm. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the apartment you shared with Lee Know, casting soft golden hues over the wooden floors. You had woken up before him, padding into the kitchen with bare feet, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you prepared coffee. The soft bubbling of the pot filled the silence, and you allowed yourself a small smile.

Lee Know had been distant for weeks, his temper short, his patience nearly nonexistent. He came home late, barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was as if he was forcing himself to engage. You told yourself it was the stress of work, the exhaustion that came with constant rehearsals and performances. But deep down, a small voice whispered doubts—doubts that had been growing, festering beneath the surface like an untreated wound.

Still, you had hope. Maybe today would be better.

When Lee Know finally emerged from the bedroom, hair messy from sleep, he barely spared you a glance before reaching for his phone. His movements were robotic as he poured himself a cup of coffee, standing at the counter, scrolling.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly. He grunted in response.

You sighed but didn’t push. Instead, you leaned against the counter, watching him. “Are you working late today?”

“Probably,” he muttered.

“Want me to bring you dinner later?”

He finally looked up, and for a moment, there was something in his eyes—something weary. But it was gone just as quickly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I might not even have time to eat.”

The dismissiveness in his tone stung more than it should have. Lately, every attempt to reach him felt like knocking on a locked door.

You nodded, swallowing down the disappointment. “Okay.”

-

By the time the late afternoon rolled in, the sky had turned a sullen shade of gray, and rain drummed steadily against the apartment windows. The air inside felt thick, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension, mirroring the storm outside. The occasional roll of thunder rumbled in the distance, a low, warning growl that seemed to echo the unease between you and Lee Know.

You sat on the couch, absently watching the raindrops streak down the glass, your fingers tightening around the blanket draped over your lap. The warmth of the coffee in your hands did little to thaw the cold weight settling in your chest. Lee Know had been on edge all day, his responses clipped, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. You had tried to be understanding, reminding yourself that he was stressed, that this distance wasn’t intentional—but after weeks of this, of feeling like you were talking to a stranger, the patience you had been clinging to was wearing thin.

The steady patter of rain filled the silence as he moved around the apartment, gathering his things with rigid movements. The sound of his duffel bag being zipped up made your stomach twist. You knew he was leaving for practice, but it felt like he was walking away from something much bigger than just an evening out.

The tension was thick as you watched him from the kitchen, his movements mechanical as he tied his shoes by the door, getting ready to leave.

“Do you want breakfast?” you asked softly, hoping to break the silence.

“No,” he answered flatly, not even looking up.

Your grip on the coffee mug tightened. “You barely ate anything last night.”

Lee Know sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll eat later.”

The dismissal stung, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Are you mad at me?” Lee Know finally looked up from his phone, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said, voice softer than you intended. “Barely talking to me. If I did something wrong, just tell me, Minho.”

His expression darkened, frustration flickering across his face like a gathering storm. His fingers clenched slightly, his shoulders stiff. “Not everything is about you, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “I never said it was.”

“Then stop acting like I owe you an explanation for every little thing,” he snapped, his tone edged with impatience as he stood abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Your breath hitched. “I just want to understand. I don’t get why you’re shutting me out—why you act like you don’t even want to be here anymore.”

A bitter scoff left his lips, his head shaking as he ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe because I don’t.”

The air was sucked from your lungs. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, the weight of his words crashing into you like an unforgiving wave. For a moment, the world seemed to tilt, your vision blurring as you searched his face for any sign of regret. But there was none. Only indifference.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, barely able to force the words out.

His eyes were cold when they met yours. “I do.”

The finality in his voice was worse than if he had screamed it. Your throat closed, your entire body going rigid. Every single moment you had spent by his side, every night you had waited up for him, every sacrifice you had made—was all of it meaningless to him?

Something inside you splintered. The exhaustion, the loneliness, the feeling of constantly fighting for a place in his life—it all boiled over into something raw, something sharp.

“You’re such an asshole, Minho,” you said, voice trembling. “I have done nothing but try to love you, try to be there for you, and all you do is treat me like I’m some burden.”

His gaze flashed, something unreadable flickering in his expression before it hardened again. “Maybe you are.” The words struck like a knife, cutting so deep you felt it in your bones. The silence that followed was deafening.

Your hands clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your voice steady. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice void of warmth. “You’re always clinging. Always wanting more from me. Always needing reassurance. It’s exhausting, Y/N.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Your chest ached, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a crushing force.

“I’m exhausting?” you repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “You know what’s exhausting, Minho? Loving someone who makes you feel like you’re never enough. Giving and giving until you have nothing left, only to be told that you were too much all along.”

His bitter laugh was sharp, almost cruel. “If you were enough, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

The final blow.

A strangled breath escaped your lips, your vision swimming with tears. The room felt too small, suffocating. You took a shaky step back, your heart pounding so violently it hurt.

You had loved him. Completely, recklessly. You had stayed when things got hard, had given him everything you had to give. But in the end, it still wasn’t enough for him.

And maybe it never would be.

Your hands trembled as you grabbed your coat from the hook by the door, your vision blurred by the tears you refused to shed in front of him. He stood there, unmoving, watching you with that same cold, detached expression.

“I hate you,” you choked out, your voice raw, stripped of all its strength. “I hate you so fucking much.”

And then you turned, storming out of the apartment, leaving behind the shattered remains of everything you had once believed in.

-

By the time you got behind the wheel, your entire body trembled with the force of your emotions. Your hands shook violently as they tightened around the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening from the pressure. The air in the car felt suffocating, thick with the remnants of your sobs, but no matter how much you tried to steady your breathing, it remained ragged—uneven, like the broken pieces of your heart.

You’re always clinging.

You’re exhausting.

Maybe you’re not enough.

His words echoed relentlessly in your head, searing through your chest like an open wound, each syllable sinking deeper, cutting sharper. No matter how many times you tried to shake them away, they lingered, poisoning your thoughts, feeding the storm inside you.

Rain pounded against the windshield in relentless sheets, distorting the glow of streetlights and headlights into a blurry, surreal mess. The rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers barely kept up, struggling to clear the cascading water from your line of sight. But you didn’t care. You barely registered anything beyond the suffocating weight in your chest, the sting behind your eyes, the erratic rise and fall of your breath.

You forced yourself to focus on the road ahead, but it was impossible to think straight when every nerve in your body was screaming, raw from the argument that had just unraveled the very fabric of your relationship.

Tears streaked down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting, mixing with the cold sweat that clung to your skin. A sob built in your throat, but you swallowed it back, your jaw clenching painfully. You had cried enough. You had begged enough. And for what? For him to tell you that you were a burden?

Your heart clenched painfully at the memory, at the way he had stood there, unmoved, unbothered, as if he hadn’t just shattered everything between you.

Your vision wavered. You tried to blink the tears away, but they only seemed to come faster, burning as they fell. Your chest felt tight, constricted, as though you were gasping for air that refused to come.

And then—

Blinding light.

A pair of headlights surged into view from the corner of your eye, piercing through the rain and darkness like an unforgiving force of fate.

Your breath caught in your throat.

A horn blared through the storm, long and sharp, the sound slicing through your muddled thoughts, forcing a split second of clarity.

Too close. Too fast.

Your hands yanked the wheel instinctively, but the tires skidded against the slick pavement, sending your car spinning out of control. The world tilted violently, your stomach lurching as your body was flung forward against the seatbelt. The sheer force knocked the air from your lungs, your head snapping sideways as the sound of screeching brakes, twisting metal, and shattering glass filled the air.

For a moment, everything felt suspended in time. A cruel, agonizing pause where pain had yet to register, where your mind barely had the chance to process what was happening.

Then—impact. A violent jolt. A deafening crash.

Your body slammed against the restraints, the seatbelt digging into your chest with bruising force. Your skull struck something hard—the window, the dashboard, you couldn’t tell. Stars exploded in your vision, blinding white-hot pain searing through your head as glass rained down like fractured ice.

A strangled gasp tore from your throat.

Pain. Sharp, unbearable, overwhelming.

Your fingers twitched, trying to reach for something—anything—to ground yourself, but the world was slipping through your grasp. The chaos of sound began to fade, muffled as though you were sinking underwater. The storm outside raged on, but it was distant now, a world away from where you were.

Your eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Your limbs refused to move, weighed down by something you couldn’t fight against.

Cold crept in, numbing, swallowing everything.

And then—

Nothing.

-

The vibration of his phone against the wooden table barely registered in Lee Know’s mind. He had been staring at the screen for the past few hours, waiting for a message—any message—from you. But there was nothing.

Not a single call. Not a single text.

Just silence.

His jaw clenched as he threw his phone onto the couch beside him, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. You were being dramatic. That’s what he told himself, over and over again. You were punishing him by ignoring him, waiting for him to be the one to reach out first.

But even as he tried to convince himself, a nagging unease settled deep in his gut.

Two days.

It had been two days since you walked out of the apartment. Two days since he had let his anger get the best of him, let cruel words spill from his lips—words he never should have said.

He had expected you to call. To yell at him, to cry, to make him feel guilty the way you always did when you fought. But you hadn’t.

And the longer the silence stretched, the more restless he became.

His pride kept him from dialing your number, but it didn’t stop his mind from racing with possibilities. Were you staying at a friend’s place? Had you gone back to your family’s house? Had you—

His phone buzzed against the couch.

Lee Know exhaled sharply, snatching it up without thinking. His chest tightened as he saw the caller ID. Chan.

Not you.

Disappointment flickered in his chest, but he pressed the answer button anyway. “What?” he muttered, his voice rougher than intended.

There was silence on the other end. Too long, too heavy. A bad feeling settled deep in his bones.

Then, Chan’s voice came through the line, quiet and grim.

“She got into an accident.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. They hung in the air between them, sharp and disorienting, like a slap to the face. Lee Know sat up straighter, his grip tightening around his phone. “What?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Chan exhaled slowly, as if preparing himself to repeat it.

“It happened two days ago,” he said, each word falling like a stone in the pit of Lee Know’s stomach. “She’s in the hospital.”

The entire room blurred.

His ears started ringing, his vision tunneling as his mind tried—and failed—to process the information.

Two days ago. The same night she left.

The same night he let her leave. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, erratic and painful, like it was trying to escape his chest.

He had sat here for the past forty-eight hours convincing himself that you were ignoring him, that you were fine, while you had been lying in a hospital bed.

Hurt. Alone.

His breath came in short, shallow bursts. “Where—” His voice cracked. He swallowed, forcing his throat to work. “Where is she?”

“Seoul General,” Chan said immediately, his voice careful, like he was waiting for the moment Lee Know completely unraveled. “Minho, listen, there’s something you should know before—”

But Lee Know was already grabbing his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’m on my way.”

“Minho—”

He hung up.

The drive to the hospital was a blur, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly they ached. His mind replayed every second of the argument, every harsh word he had thrown at you.

You’re exhausting.

Maybe you’re not enough.

His own words rang in his head, cruel and venomous. His stomach churned violently. Had those been the last things he ever said to you? What if—

No.

No, he couldn’t think like that.

His foot pressed harder on the gas, ignoring the honking cars and blaring traffic lights as he raced through the city. He didn’t care if he got pulled over. He didn’t care if he wrecked his car.

The only thing that mattered was getting to you.

Because he should have been there. He should have been the one to call you, to go after you, to make sure you were okay. Instead, he had let you walk out into the rain—into this.

And now, he didn’t know if he would ever forgive himself.

-

When he stormed into the hospital, his mind was a blur of panic and dread. He barely heard the receptionist’s words as she directed him to your room. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled his nose, sharp and overwhelming, making his stomach churn.

His hands were clammy as he reached for the door handle, but nothing could have prepared him for what was on the other side.

And then he saw you.

The sight of you nearly stole the breath from his lungs.

You were lying against the stark white pillows, the hospital bed swallowing your small, fragile frame. An IV was attached to your arm, the machine beside you beeping steadily. A bandage was wrapped around your forehead, and deep bruises bloomed all across your body, a cruel contrast against your fragile, pale skin. You had a nasty black eye and a cast on your arm.

His chest tightened painfully, his heart hammering so hard that he thought it might break through his ribs.

But it wasn’t the injuries that destroyed him. It was the way you looked at him. Not with anger. Not with resentment. Not even with sadness.

Just blank, unfamiliar confusion. You frowned slightly, tilting your head. “Who… are you?”

Lee Know’s stomach dropped.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His body felt frozen, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat. You didn’t know him. You didn’t recognize him.

The weight of it crashed into him all at once, a cold, suffocating wave that stole every ounce of strength he had left. His entire world tilted off its axis, leaving him grasping for something—anything—to keep himself from breaking.

His worst nightmare had come true.

He forced himself to take a step forward, even though every part of him wanted to collapse.

“I’m Minho,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I… I’m your boyfriend.”

Your brow furrowed, something like sympathy flickering in your expression. But it wasn’t recognition.

It wasn’t love.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t… I don’t remember you.”

The words sliced through him like a blade.

A sharp, broken sound escaped him—something between a gasp and a sob. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers curling into tight fists as his entire body shook.

This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

He was supposed to come here and apologize. He was supposed to tell you how wrong he had been, how much he regretted everything he had said. He was supposed to beg for your forgiveness, to make you see that he never meant a single word of the venom he had thrown at you.

But now—

Now, you didn’t even know who he was.

His throat tightened as his vision blurred, hot tears spilling down his cheeks before he could stop them. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, his chest rising and falling erratically as the crushing weight of his mistakes pressed down on him.

You were right in front of him, but you were gone.

Lee Know sucked in a trembling breath, lifting a hand to his mouth as if it would somehow hold in the emotions threatening to tear him apart. His legs felt weak, barely able to hold him up.

His voice cracked when he finally spoke.

“You don’t remember me at all?”

You hesitated, looking down at your lap, fingers twisting in the thin hospital blanket. “No… I’m really sorry.”

He let out a quiet, shaky breath, a humorless laugh slipping past his lips. “Don’t be,” he murmured, wiping at his wet cheeks. “I think… I think that’s my punishment.”

Because he had been cruel. He had let his anger and pride destroy everything you had built together. He had told himself you’d come back.

But now, the universe had punished him in the worst way possible. You couldn’t come back.

You didn’t even remember what you were coming back to.

[dearly-somber]

hyunga’s sleeping | l.mh

-> pairing. idol!minho x non-idol!reader (f)

-> genre. Established relationship, domestic fluff.

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1101

-> warnings. None!

-> a/n. This was fueled by pure, unadulterated Minho & Soon-Doong-Dori (SDD) brainrot.

-> skz ficlets, oneshots and series m.list

-> started. Feb. 23rd, 2024 @ 16:51

-> fin. Fri., Mar. 1st, 2024 @ 19:40

-> edited. Sat. Mar. 2nd, 2024 @ 15:40

-> divider credit. @plum98, @saradika-graphics

“Eomoni!”

“Y/N, darling, come in!”

Minho’s mom wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you inside with a big smile on her face. She waves you off as you slip out of your shoes and into a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty slippers Minho bought for you as a joke years ago, forcefully prying the bag of goodies you bought on your way here from your fingers.

“I hope I’m not intruding—?”

“Hush!” Mrs. Lee chides with a smile, “Stop worrying so much.” Her hand hovers by the small of your back, guiding you up the last step into the living room.

“Is Minho here? He said he was coming home today…”

“Yes, he’s here. He’s in his room.” Minho’s mom sets the plastic bag on the counter, and you naturally go to help her unpack what you bought, shelving things like you live here.

“I—hello, abeonim.” You bow at Mr. Lee, closing your eyes contentedly when he comes around the counter to give you a fatherly side-hug that squishes you against him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, ruffling your hair as he lets you go in favor of helping his wife unpack.

You shrug, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Thought I’d pop in to say hi. I missed the kittens very much.”

Mr. Lee laughs, shaking his head at you. “Of course, the kittens.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

You can’t help the grin tugging at your mouth, clearing your throat to speak. “Speaking of, where are the babies? I haven’t seen any of them since I got here.”

“Last time I checked they were all with Minho in his room,” his mom says, putting away the bottle of red wine you bought for dinner later tonight.

“Great! I can kill two birds with one stone.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

She snickers at you, shooing you away with a fond smile. “Go say hi and then come sit with us—we found a documentary we thought you’d like.”

“Okay, eomoni.” You smile at her and hope your pure love and adoration for her isn’t written too clearly on your face, afraid she might tease you. You walk with light steps in the direction of Minho’s room, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“Minho-ssi,” you sing-song, rounding the corner with a light and airy step-a-step you’re pretty sure you saw somewhere in Thunderous’s choreography.

Mreow?

“Doong-Doong-ah?” Your lips jut out in a surprised pout, looking down at the talkative orange tabby with a tiny furrow in your brow. Following the lump of white sheets behind him, you finally make out Minho’s all-black clad body hidden under all the fluff.

You smile.

“Is hyunga sleeping?” you whisper, walking over on the tips of your toes before crouching in front of Doongie, scratching behind his ears with a soft smile. He mrews, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans his head into your hand. To your right, Dori hugs what you think is a bottle of lotion between his white socked-paws, his tail flicking with each nibble he delivers to the hard plastic.

You let your hand wander over Dori’s side and chide him with a half-hearted hiss when he clamps his teeth around your knuckles, shaking it off with a smile when he pauses a second before giving your hand a couple of licks.

You give his side one last pat before walking around Minho’s feet, only noticing Soonie as he’s cuddling into your boyfriend’s duveted stomach.

You can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips, crouching next to the sleeping cats to card your fingers through Soonie’s fur, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell in your chest at his appreciative purr.

And then you’re looking up at Lee Minho, your body tingling all over at the serenity on your sleeping beauty’s face, unable to help but reach out and let your hand run over his hair; a little frizzy at the ends but otherwise straight; he must not have been sleeping for very long.

You drag your hand over Minho’s head with an inexplicable softness constricting your throat, wishing you could lean down and kiss him without running the risk of waking him up.

You jump a little when Minho lets out an adorable grunt as he slowly pries his eyes open.

“Jagi?” he mumbles.

“Did I wake you?” you coo, combing your fingers through his fringe.

“Mmm.”

You chuckle, letting the pads of your fingers brush over his forehead, over his eyelids. “Ever the truthman.”

“Truthman?” he grumbles, bringing a hand up to loosely hold your wrist between his fingers.

“When did you get home?” You let your hand wander over his cheek.

“A few hours ago…”

“From practice?”

He guides the palm of your hand against his lips. “Mmm...”

He kisses your hand, turning onto his back (much to Soonie’s dismay) and throwing the duvet around his hips before tugging on your arm with surprising strength.

You yelp, practically falling on top of him. He lets out a back-of-the-throat kind of giggle that sends tingles down your arms, using his hands on your hips to shift you higher up his abdomen.

Minho lets out a satisfied hum-sigh against the top of your head, his fingers massaging the skin at your waist before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers, letting the elastic keep his hands in place.

“Baby,” you say, softly—knowing his parents are waiting for you downstairs but feeling so tempted to sink into his warmth and stay there until the end of days.

“No,” he huffs, nuzzling your temple. “Lay with me for a bit.”

You can’t help but laugh, subtly shaking your head. Of course he knows. “Okay, but only for a minute. Your mom invited me downstairs to watch a—“

“Shh, jagi, I’m trying to sleep.”

———

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’re—“

Mrs. Lee stops in her tracks, right outside Minho’s room. The sight she comes across brings an immediate smile to her face, and she can’t help but take her phone out and snap a picture to give to her son later:

Minho, his arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, legs intertwined. And surrounding you, Soonie, Doongie and Dori; the youngest of the trio laying by his hyung’s head. Doongie lays by your feet, and Soonie sleeps just off to the side, his legs stretched out in front of him.

As she sits back down with her husband, Mrs. Lee can’t help but think: she can’t wait for the day Minho asks for her mother’s ring.

[k-zuzulibrary]

스트레이키즈

b.C, l.MH, k.SM, i.N 𖹭 gn!reader

my enemy.

synopsis: they eventually give in after years of hatred, rivalry, and built-up tension only to get caught by another member.

content: (seperate) bang chan, lee know, seungmin, i.n x gn!reader, enemies 2 what?, suggestive themes/smut 18+ (minors do not interact), making out, grinding, no genitalia or pronouns specified for the reader but you are the bottom and exhibit bottom behavior, sexual frustration, fingering/handjob in bang chan's, masturbation, penetration, bratty!reader, getting caught, mean dom!lee know, reader is called a 'pretty princess' in lee know's, hair pulling, edging, name calling in i.n's, traumatized skz witnesses, self explanatory, not proofread, lowercase intended.

zuzu's note: maybe this should be a series... i wrote them with a reader who can't get along with them (and vice versa) because... well, that's kind of how enemies work. part 2 here!

channie.

you never liked chan. he wasn't at your pace — too hard working, too selfless, too self deprecating. you were annoyed by the fact that he never took care of himself, and so you avoided him regardless of how you shared the same friend group. you didn't like surrounding yourself with "negative" people like him.

chan on the other hand, didn't like you because he thought you were a rude person — you wouldn't say please, you wouldn't say thank you, you actively ignored him/pretended you didn't hear him even when he spoke to you. he didn't care if you were nice to him, he just didn't like rude people.

it wasn't known that you two were enemies — it was unspoken between you and chan, and nobody in the group took notice because you never really talked, and so, when you two were the only ones left to watch over the dorm while the rest went back to family homes or their own secret affairs, what bang chan didn't expect was to hear small moans emerging from your bedroom late at night.

you knew he wouldn't be asleep at this time. he never slept. he was always working on something with his headphones on and you were feeling really sexually frustrated at the time. you assumed for sure he wouldn't be able to hear you if you struggled a bit, but unlike you expected, he heard every bit of it, and as much as he hated it, it turned him on more than he'd like to admit.

you weren't getting anywhere with your efforts, and when you heard a knock on your door it this time of night, it could only have been one person and that ruined your entire mood. "what?" you groaned. not getting your hand out of your pants because you knew chan wouldn't just walk in and you might as well have continued what you were doing the moment he would walk away from your room.

"...so, i'm trying to work on something, but your... noises aren't exactly helping me concentrate."

you blushed and immediately withdrew your hand, immediately sitting up. you didn't know how to respond and it was silent for a good few seconds.

"s-so i would appreciate it if you... um... i- i don't know, lowered it... a bit... thanks."

with that, you heard his footsteps fade away and retreat into his own dorm next to yours. you let out the large sigh you had been holding in and wondered how you would ever go back to sleep at this rate. or how you'd ever be able to masturbate in peace again.

you didn't know why, or where you even got the courage to, but you found yourself knocking on chan's door just moments after what happened. sure, you were embarrassed but you only had little of your dignity left and might as well have lost it all when he opened the door with a small crack and curiously looked at your nervous form.

"would it be alright if you... h-helped me?" you asked with a soft voice, bang chan stared at you, expression unwavering. to clarify, you stumbled over your next words. "i have been struggling lately, and—"

bang chan grabbed your wrist and dragged you into his room, slamming the door behind you.

"and what do i get in return?" bang chan asked, voice gruff as he stared deeply into your eyes.

"...my silence for the next few weeks?" you attempted to make a deal.

"so i'll have to do this every time you're frustrated? just so i can work?" he clarified.

"does it sound like something you wanna do?"

"i guess we'll have to see first."

bang chan gently led your form to his bed, slamming you down and pinning you against the soft mattress, his hand rubbing down at your croch. you didn't know why but something about hating him up until this very moment was what turned you on most. without any more words, bang chan put his hand down your pyjamas the same way you had tried all night and continued to pleasure you better than you ever could have. if he hated you so much, why was he so good at making you feel loved?

"f-fuck, i'm so close." you whimpered, gripping onto the sheets beneath you as bang chan picked up his pace.

"yeah? you getting there, baby?" his hand never got tired. "d'you wanna do this all night?" why did he seem to enjoy pleasuring you like you enjoyed being pleasured? the mere thought brought you so close to your climax. "i could go all night, baby." he whispered in your ear, and with that, you pathetically came into your pants and on chan's big, rough hand.

you slowly turned your face to look at him, "i could go for a round 2—"

"hey, chan, i decided to come back early-" you both turned to see lee know who nonchalantly walked into the room, eyes glued to his phone as he set his bag down on the ground. chan quickly withdrew his hand from your pants, wiping it on his shirt as he stood up and walked around the side of the room while you sat up on the mattress, fixing your hair and looking at the oh-so-interesting floor. lee know looked up from his phone.

"oh, hi, y/n. what are you doing here?"

you nervously exchanged glances with chan and gulped before you could shrug and form a lie—

"oh my g- you guys fucked." lee know deadpanned, pointing at you, then chan, then you. "disgusting." he turned around and left the room. "chan's room reeks of sex now. this is totally going in the gc."

know.

it was easy to hate lee know. the moment you met him, you hated him in all sorts of ways — bad first impression, started off on the wrong foot, rubbed you off in the wrong way, and many more. you wanted to rip his guts out along with his cocky smirk, condescending voice, and dark gaze whenever he would make fun of you or judge literally anything you'd do.

lee know hated you because you were too pretty. you were too golden — everyone treated you like a princess and he hated it, he didn't think you deserved it. not that he was jealous or anything, he just believed you weren't worth all the effort and love the members gave you and assumed you were spoiled. your screaming matches were not uncommon in the dorms and lee know would always leave you stressed and pissed off to the point where you wanted to move out and he loved pushing you to that edge.

which is the exact reason you didn't know why he was pounding into you so good on the living room couch, your begs, moans, and mewls filling the silence of the dark, empty room.

"fuck," lee know cursed under his breath as he picked up his pace, you were clenching around his fat cock so good and after just a few thrusts, he was already so close to reaching his climax. "why are you so quiet now, hm? did the cat get your tongue?" he leaned in closer to put a soft kiss on your lips, prying them open and gently biting your tongue. "hm?" he pulled away.

it's that condescending 'hm' again that gets you. what used to irritate you so much turned you on right now even more.

"hngg...n.. pl- please..." you whimpered. "please, let me cum," you silently begged, voice being interrupted with each harsh thrust lee know pushed into you, you were getting closer and closer to cumming and you just wanted lee know to let you.

"oh, you're begging? that's so unexpected of a spoiled brat who always gets what they want." lee know abruptly pulled out and roughly grabbed your hair, pushing your head into the couch. "but you're not getting it tonight, understand?"

before you could form another response, another weak plead, a form had walked into the room and turned on the bright lights. "WOAAAAH, WHAT THE FUCK?!" bang chan screeched, you and lee know looked over to see him covering his eyes. "FOR GOD'S SAKE, PEOPLE, GET A ROOM." he sobbed and left the room in a rush. lee know chuckled a bit before getting off of you, zipping up, and walking back to his dorm.

"i guess we'll pick this up another time."

minnie.

you fucking hated kim seungmin. he was the bane of your existence and making fun of you was the entertainment of his. tripping you, judging your every major life decision and move, and overall making your life a living hell. today, you were at the dorm to rant to changbin about your recent breakup, and seungmin just had to be in the same room, making his coffee and listening on the conversation.

"you need to focus on yourself," changbin advised with a soft voice, gently rubbing your back as you gripped your hair in frustration. "i need to use the toilet real quick, be back." he left the room.

"what was it about you that's so unlovable?" seungmin suddenly inquired as he walked in the room leaning on the doorframe as he stirred his coffee. "is it because you're an asshole? or because you suck overall?... wait... oh, shittt." seungmin covered his mouth, standing up straight. "are you just straight up awful in bed?"

"dude, do you ever just shut the fuck up?" you slammed your hand on the table.

"if you ever need help to learn how to be better in bed, just know i'm right here to-"

"seungmin, i swear, leave the room right now before anything else happens. i'm not in the mood."

"y/n, no joke, i fuck." he placed his cup down on the table and sat in front of you, cross legged. "c'mon, what do you need help with?"

"it's not the sex-" you paused and started to think about it. "i...is it?" you tilted your head.

"come on," seungmin gestured for you to come to him, and subconsciously you found yourself doing so, crawling closer until you were in his lap. "what is it you need help with?" he repeated the earlier question, only this time he was softer, sweeter. unlike the seungmin you always knew.

you were nervous, so you just shook your head.

"use your words, baby." he whispered.

just as you were gonna respond to him, you felt his boner against yourself and you couldn't form a coherent thought. "i- i..." your voice was breathy and you tried to pry yourself off of him out of your anxiety, but his grip kept you in place. "i don't know..." you managed to say.

"can i kiss you?" he asked.

you nodded your head, and he gently connected your lips together in a silent bliss before deepening the kiss, he pulled away to mumble, "i'm gonna teach you a few things tonight." before smashing your lips back together. why is such an asshole so good at kissing? the whole situation turned you on to a point where you felt a little guilty, but you started slowly grinding on seungmin's hard-on, letting out small moans into his mouth.

"okay, y/n—" changbin walked into the room. "woah- woah," he rushed over and dragged you away from seungmin. "Y/N! I LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR TWO MINUTES AND YOU ALREADY TRY TO HOOK UP WITH YOUR ENEMY?!"

i.nnie

you and i.n constantly fought for the position of best maknae and it went from a harmless fight for the love of your seniors to a personal vendetta against one another. you would bicker over the pettiest stuff like getting the last of the juice or who gets to use the tv remote, but each argument would last from hours to days or even weeks before you find a new thing to be petty about and fight over.

today, what you were fighting over was different. the topic went from "who was the better kisser?" to "who was the best at having sex?"

"why? i've had many people tell me that i 'rock their world.' it's equal pleasure for both parties when i'm there, they don't have to fake it just as i don't." you argued.

"so what? words are words." i.n nonchalantly shrugged and disregarded your argument. "i bet you i can fake cumming if i fucked you." he blurted out.

"really? wanna bet?" you smirked, taking a step toward him. you could see him nervously gulp his saliva.

and that's how you ended up in his bed, with you sitting down on his fully hard cock. "shit." i.n whimpered. "i- i didn't know a- a slut like you could be so tight..." he held back his groan.

"awh... are you gonna cum already? i thought you could fake it..." you taunted as you bounced once on his dick.

"w-wait!" i.n leaned forward and grabbed your hips in place, looking down in between you and how you connected. "j-just wait." he whispered. you looked into each other's eyes for a moment before he used his strength to pull you off of him, he flipped you over and pushed his dick back inside you. "i wanna fuck you."

"hey— that wasn't the deal, i was supposed to be the one who-" i.n put his hand over your mouth and began pounding into you relentlessly, you wanted to interject but it felt too good.

"just tap me twice if you don't like it." he whispered and kept his hand over your mouth before slipping three of his fingers inside and playing with your tongue and saliva. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the quiet room, i.n went faster and faster thrusting inside you. you whimpered against his fingers and he did his best to keep his moans quiet, only letting out occassional sighs and groans.

you could feel your high approaching and you could tell i.n was also reaching his with how his pace became inconsistent and a bit jittery. "sh...shit..." he whimpered as he came into you, and you were about to reach your climax as well when the door abruptly slammed open, causing i.n to stop his movement and you both snapped your heads toward the man standing in the frame — fucking seungmin.

"yo, hey, hEy, hEY, HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOiNG?!" his voice cracked as he processed the sight before him, pointing at the two of you i.n leaned over and grabbed a pillow next to your head.

"GET OUT!" he yelled, reaching for the sheets to cover you up.

"GET OFF OF EACH OTHER FIRST!" seungmin made no effort in covering his eyes (for his or your sake) or lowering his voice as he stared, wide-eyed at the sight.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

˚ ༘ ೀ���.˚

main masterlist.

©️ 2025 k-zuzulibrary All Rights Reserved.

[b4tracha]

Minho, who.. (L.MH)

Messages of Minho, who is loved.

Minho, who gets you jealous on purpose because he likes it when you pout. You give him the silent treatment, but he's too much of a cat for you to ignore him. He'll just lay on your lap, bothering you until you giggle and forgive him.

Minho who likes touching your ass randomly during the worst times. You will be out shopping for groceries, and he will decide that your ass is a stress ball that he needs to touch and squeeze. He doesn't even slap it. He grabs it fully in his hand and doesn't let go.

Not that you care..

Minho, who knows you want to flirt but doesn't like to comply. It's his charm and you think it's cute, but why can't he be normal for once??

Minho, who wants to be reminded that you love him but doesn't like being that vulnerable, so he says it in weird ways. You know what he means because you are a cat whisperer, so you always give him the reassurance he needs.

Minho, who gets texts like this every time he comes back home after going overseas for tour. Minho, who you will love for the rest of your life. Minho, who is your soulmate.

____

Sorry I haven't posted in a long time. I officially got into the nursing program, and it's pretty busy. In about 2 years, you'll be talking to an RN. My next fic will be Hanji <3

[wnbnny]

we can't be friends - l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining, did i mention angst, reader is kinda depressed, like two kisses ig

status: delivered !

word count: 4.0k

author's note: aaaa omd it's finally done >< reblogs + likes are appreciated!!

lee minho. your muse, your life, your heart.

he broke your heart one stormy sunday night and you hated him as you watched him leave with tears in both of your eyes.

granted, he did break your heart for your own good, to save you from the dangers of being with him. but you didn't care, not when he was your universe, your world. you would gladly take a bullet for him.

just as he would take a bullet for you.

minho knew leaving would break you, just as much as it would break him, but he needed to do it. life as an idol was already dangerous enough with all the death threats and saesangs, but the moment 'fans' caught even the slightest whiff of you they would hunt you down and hurt you, and minho simply couldn't let that happen. he knew you wouldn't care about all the danger as long as you were with him, but he did. minho would never forgive himself if something happened to you all because he had given in to his innermost wants and kept you by his side.

so he left.

november 8th, 2019, 8.46 pm.

"i want to break up." he said, one sunday night. the rain was pouring outside, flashes of thunder and lightning ringing through the sky occasionally. in the quiet and comfort of your shared apartment, with the dim glow of lamps illuminating your features, in that moment, for a split second, minho wanted to stay. he wanted to pretend everything was alright, to have you stay by his side and be happy together, but he knew he shouldn't. the two of you were eating dinner, sitting at the small round dining table in your kitchen tucking into your homemade kimchi stew. god, he would miss your kimchi stew, he thought miserably. 

"what?" your world felt like it had stopped, your hand frozen in place as you slowly tilted your head to look at your boyfriend sitting across from you.

"i... want to break up." he repeated robotically.

"minho, where is this coming from? did i do something wrong? please... just talk to me," you begged, panic starting to flood your mind as tears threatened to spill over. you couldn't believe what he had just said. the both of you had been perfectly fine before, the both of you were happy, why was he doing this? were you not good enough for him? did he fall in love with someone else? the thought alone made you weak.

"i just... it's for the best. i'm putting you in danger every day, fans will hurt you if they find out i'm with you. i can't let that happen."

"i don't care if they try to hurt me, minho. as long as i'm with you, it’s- " you reached for his hand, and could feel your heart finally sinking to the bottom as you saw his face, screwed into an expression of hurt and resignation as he shook his head.

"just... don't forget me in the future, okay?" before you could say anything, minho was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and his phone, already reaching for the front door.

"wait! minho-" you jumped out of your seat in alarm and desperation, clinging to his arm as he looked back at you with a pained expression. 

"please- we can work this out, just don't leave me," you pleaded, tears already cascading down your face. you must've looked a pathetic mess in that moment, sniffling and sobbing, yet minho still thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist as he memorised your face for one last time.

finally, minho turned around, cupping your face in his hands. your hands reached up to hold his, as he memorised your every detail for the last time. minho's lips found their way to your forehead, then the corner of your eyes, then your lips as he kissed you tenderly for the last time as you sobbed in his arms.  

"i'm sorry." he whispered, before pushing you back as you cried out and stumbled backwards, opening the door, walking out of the apartment and out of your life.

december 25th, 2019, 11.28 pm. 

your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that cafe shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it? 

it's christmas now. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wore your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you. 

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i still love you.

january 7th, 2020, 2.35 pm.

you strolled down the busy streets of seoul, a long oversized fluffy coat resting on your shoulders and your nose pink from the cold. a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally stepped foot into the cozy ambience of a random cafe alongside the road, the warm air blowing gently at you helping to relieve the coldness settling into your bones. ordering a latte and a small cake which were promptly delivered to your table, you settled down to scroll through the news.

new technology developed, scientists say new machinery can effectively target and erase memories of specific people and objects. is now being offered at multiple mental health clinics nationwide at a low cost, guaranteed 90% success rate. for sign-ups and further information, please contact...

you raised your eyebrows at the news, marvelling slightly at how advanced technology seemed to be developing at this rate. thinking nothing of it, you simply continued scrolling.

january 7th, 2020, 12.02 pm.

you sighed as you flopped onto your bed, tired from a day of work and countless emails sent. feeling a warm, soft head poke it's way under your arm, you smiled softly, hand reaching out to scratch doongie's head as he meowed in content. smiling softly, you felt two large lumps jump onto your bed and settle on you, soongie choosing to settle on your feet and dori choosing to burrow his way under you arm as you giggled. 

"soongie, you're so heavy," you laughing light-heartedly as your oldest cat let out a 'meow' of indignation at your words. 

minho would love the cats so much...

your smile drooped, feeling that warm familiar sensation pricking at your eyes again. 

god, how stupid. it had been two months already and you were still hung up on him. everywhere you went, you saw his face, on advertisments at the bus stop, billboards in the shopping districts, to even advertisments on youtube, and every single time your old memories with minho would surface and you would miss him again.

memories...

oh. the news of the memory erasure experiment.

would it hurt to try? you tried imagining forgetting minho. for him to just be another face on the billboard, a random k-pop idol to you. to forget you had ever even loved him and forget that he ever loved you. the pain would be gone. your heart would no longer ache each day, you would no longer think of him and he would no longer cloud your mind.

picking up your phone, your finger hovered above the 'call' button.

"hello? this is the seoul medical psychiatry clinic speaking. how may i help you?"

"i..." you paused, gnawing at your bottom lip.

"i would like to make an appointment."

january 19th, 2020, 1.28 pm.

"welcome! do you have a booked appointment?" the receptionist greeted cheerfully as you stepped into the reception and seating area of the clinic, a large box full of items in your hands. the hallways were filled with posters and quotes, the beanbags and seats painted in warm and soothing colours. 

"yes, doctor kim at 1.35pm." you answered, watching as the receptionist typed a few words into her computer.

"ah yes, under the name yoon y/n, right?" she clicked her tongue, "for... memory erasure?" she glanced at you with a look full of sympathy, as if you were some lost wounded puppy. 

"yes." you confirmed, lips pursing together slightly as you stared down at the box.

"good, and you've got your box of items already. do double check to make sure they are linked to that specific person only, we wouldn't want any erasure of other memories woth different people."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"yeah, i have." 

"great, we'll be calling for you later, the doctor will run you through the procedure and then the operation will commence. take a seat first," she gestured to the seating area. not long after, you heard your name.

"yoon y/n?" 

you hurriedly stood up, making your way towards the nurse and following her into the operation room. the operation room was white and cold, lacking any warmth and colour, filled with odd looking machinery and lab coats and tools. you were sat down on a chair, and your box of items given to the nurse who began taking them out one by one while another nurse attached a few wires to your skin to a machine on the right which measured your heart rate, a steady thump-thump-thump. the first nurse began to place your items in a row, scanning each one under a machine.

beep.

minho's green hoodie.

beep.

the snow globe the both of you had bought together at a winter festival.

beep.

polariods of you and him.

beep.

a cat plushie you had gifted him in celebration of his lastest comeback before he had left.

beep.

matching mugs the two of you had bought.

minho. everything, everywhere, everyone reminded you of minho. it felt like you were drowning, consumed by him.

"alright, i'll be placing the device on your head. the device will take you through individual memories of the person, but you will have to re-experience certain bigger core memories again as those take a longer time to process. if at any point should you feel distressed or want to stop, please press the red button beside you, and should you want to restore your memories we will reload them back into your brain. however, if you choose not to restore the memories, we will automatically delete them after 30 days." the doctor explained, showing you a strange contraption with two pulse points connecting to either side of your temple.

beside you, the heart rate measured by the machine started beeping faster.

you nodded. 

the cold, tingly terminals of the device connected with either side of your temples, the unfamiliar feeling odd and alienating. 

then all turned black.

"min! look, they have matching mugs! we should get them," you pointed excitedly to two mugs at a stall in a summer fair you and minho had just happened to pass by. you watched as your old self pointed to the mugs happily, "the world's best boyfriend" and "the world's best girlfriend" written on each mug respectively. "that's so cheesy," minho said, a grin on his face as he pulled you close to him by your waist. well, the old minho in your memories. it felt like a punch in the gut yet the cure to your pain as you stared at his face again in your re-lived memory, his oh-so-familar grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "yeah, but it's cute!" you exclaimed, turning to face minho. "pleaseeee," you begged, lips downturned in a pout and your eyes shining hopefully as you tugged on his arm. "fine," minho groans, eventually giving in into your request, feigning annoyace by rolling his eyes yet still smiling at your delighted expression. 

god, you missed him so much.

the memory shifted, warping into another blurry picture.

this time, it was another memory that faded in, a memory of you and him sitting in the living room unwrapping your christmas presents. minho tore open his box eagerly, laughing as he held up a green hoodie from his favorite brand gifted to him by you, coupled with some other things like perfume and a brand new wallet. "oops... might've gifted you an accidental matching hoodie by accident," he smiled sheepishly, as you opened your present, some jewelry with . "a red hoodie! now we can match," you snickered, pulling the soft hoodie over your head and slipping it on. "hey, we look like the christmas colours!" you laughed, pouncing on him and tackling him down to make him wear his one as he whined in protest. eventually you did managed to get him to put it on and pose for some pictures, albeit him being disgruntled but still giving in to you anyways.

a tear trickled down your face, landing on your lap as your hands on the chair tightened, gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles started turning white.

the memory started to fade away.

"min! the new comeback was so good, i watched the music video just now," you exclaimed, bounding up to him the moment he opened the front door to your shared apartment. "thanks baby," he smiled, leaning in for a quick peck but suddenly finding a soft plushie being thrust into his hands. it was a plush of a brown and white striped cat, soft to the touch and extremely squishable. "what's this for?" he raised eyebrow, cocking his head in confusion as he stared at you. "it's to celebrate your comeback, I figured i'd give you something to cuddle when i'm not around you," you smiled, "i named the cat mr sprinkles." "who names a plush toy mr sprinkles?" minho laughs, watching as you huff at him about how the name was cute and he was being mean. "thank you though, i appreciate it," he kissed you softly, smiling at the small act of love.

no, stop-

you started to whimper and thrash around.

fade to black again.

"min, look," minho turned to you as you were admiring the ornaments at a booth, the both of you coming across a christmas market and deciding to explore it. "it's a snow globe of us," you pointed out to a small snow globe, with a man and women as figurines in the center of the snow globe and fake snow swirling in the water around them. "it does look like us, doesn't it?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you subconsciously leaned into him. "we should get it," he suggested, smiling at how your eyes lit up and how you pressed a kiss to his cheek. the two of you purchased the item, and then bought some hot chocolate to sip on to relieve the cold setting into your bones. "jagi-ah," minho called, prompting you to look up at him before gasping in surprise. the first snow of the season. "you know, they say the person you witness the first snow with will be with you for a long, long time." minho grinned, leaning down to kiss you tenderly before intertwining your hands. 

you didn't want to forget him, you realized, as you gasped for air, heartbeat skyrocketing as you tried to open your mouth to scream. no, you would never want to forget minho. you would rather cling onto those memories and deal with the pain forever than never having remembered him.

the memory faded.

you gasped in surprise as you ripped open the box, holding up a brand-new, shiny polariod camera wrapped in a gift box, its paper shreds used to cushion the camera hapazardly strewn about the floor.  minho watched you with a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling as he happily obliged to any pose you wanted to do with him, groaning half-heartedly but still laughing at the silly faces you made.

the memory started to fade again.

"STOP!" your finger found the red button, desperately pressing it in an attempt to get the machine to start working. all of a sudden, you were jolted back into your consciousness in the middle of the white sterile room again, heaving and gasping for air as you tried to adjust back to the surroundings. 

"are you okay? do you need to stop the operation?" the nurse asked, a concerned look on her face. beside you, the machine was beeping, a erratic rhythm.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

your hand reached up to fiddle with your necklace, looking left and right. you swallowed, a lump in your throat.

"yes."

----------

you stumbled out the clinic, hands clutching onto the box of items tightly as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun. 

hands shaking, you pulled out your phone.

'my love,' the contact at the top of the screen read. you hadn't called him in months, ever since he had broken up with you. you has tried for a few weeks, but day after day of missed calls was heartbreaking.

you pressed the button.

one ring.

two rings.

three rings.

four rings...

"hello?"

a voice you hadn't heard for months. a voice you had only been hearing in your dreams.

"minho-" a strangled sob left your lips.

"please." you could only force out a choked plea, tears falling rapidly, stumbling onto a nearby bench. people started at you as they walked by, a woman breaking down in a random street in seoul oddly disconcerting.

"where are you? i'll come get you." the moment you heard the concern laced in his voice, your eyes brimmed with more unshed tears, stifling a sob that threatened to escape. in the background, you could hear the sound of things being knocked over, presumably minho rushing to get to you.

you told him your location in between shaky breaths, occasional hiccups interrupting your sentence. 

"just wait for me, ok? don't move anywhere," minho firmly instructed, voice soft and calming.

a few minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found.

he would hate you for this, you realized. you didn't deserve him. he tried so hard to keep you safe, and how did you repay him? by almost erasing all memories of him. the thought of it just broke your heart even more, for if he knew what you had tried to do he would never want to have anything to do with you again.

"y/n!" you heard a voice yell, whipping around only to see minho running to you at full speed.  you had never been more glad to see him, your knees instantly buckling as you collapsed into his arms, crying into the crook of his neck as you clutched onto him like a lifeline. 

you didn't think you would ever get used to this feeling, you thought. his touch, warmth, his gentle strokes of your hair and whispered sweet nothings were like music to your ears, his hand coming up to rest on your back and his other coming up to gently stroke your hair as he swayed you back and forth. he had clearly just ran from dance practice, you realized, slightly sweaty and panting ever so slightly. 

"what's wrong, jagi?" he murmured, soft brown eyes searching your own red and teary ones.

"i- i didn't want to remember you because it was too painful, and then i tried to erase my memories of you, but i realized i didn't want to and i really, really, really fucking miss you and it hurts-" your rambling was cut off by a hiccup, lips quivering as you stared back into his eyes.

here comes the part where he realizes your a disgusting bitch and hates you forever, you thought miserably.

"shh, it's ok," minho pulled you closer, engulfing you in his warmth as his hand rose up to cup your cheek.

what?

he was supposed to hate you, not do... this. you literally tried to erase all memories of him, he should be angry and offended, so why...?

nonetheless, you would take what you could get in what you assumed to be your last moments with him, so instead you leaned into his touch, memorising his every detail again. his soft brown eyes framed with delicate lashes, sharp nose and jawline, the pink rosy tint to his cheeks as the winter wind whipped around you.

"i'm sorry," you begged, "just don't hate me."

"i never did, silly." minho laughed softly, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"but you left me." you said, confused.

"i left you because i loved you. it was just for your own safety, i didn't care about anything else," minho explained, brows furrowing slightly.

oh.

minho stumbled backwards as you crashed into him with a force, nearly knocking him over as you crashed your lips onto his, hands threading through his soft silky hair and teeth knocking against his. it was a heated, messy kiss, teeth clashing and tears streaming down your face, yet minho didn't seem to mind as he deepened the kiss with a fervour, all seeming to pour out of him, pain and regret, relief and want. it is only when you seperate with a gasping breath of air that you finally see his swollen, reddened lips.

“i’ll figure something out, i’ll talk to the company, make a statement or something- i won’t let anyone get to you, i promise,” he rambled, a giddy smile on his face. right now, minho could care less about the repercussions, even if he had to move mountains just to be by your side and keep you safe at the same time. 

you giggled, an infectious laugh bubbling out of you. the both of you, crying in the middle of a street, hands intertwined and both a mess, yet you had never been happier with the person you truly loved. 

“we'll be alright now.” you whispered. it wasn’t just a statement but a promise, one to keep forever.

december 25th, 2020, 1.43 pm.

“min! come look!” you squealed in delight, eyes lighting up when you were finally done. minho glanced over, and sure enough, you were up to mischief again, the three cats dressed in ugly christmas sweaters with cartoonish designs on them and matching hats on their heads. doongie let out a ‘meow’ of indignation, protesting as minho roared with laughter to scoop him and his fellow cats up. laughter bubbling out of your lips, you quickly grabbed your phone to take a picture of minho and the three cats, his face lighting up in amusement as he watched them try to squirm out of his grasp. 

“i love you, you know that?” minho says that night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch with the cats, watching your favourite seasonal christmas movies together and snacking on popcorn.

“i don’t say it enough, partly because i’m not good at expressing myself, but i love you. your smile and personality and everything. just thought you should know.” the tips of his ears are red as he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

you smile, a red tint blossoming across your cheeks as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“i love you too min.” 

how did you ever get so lucky? you think, leaning in to rest your head on minho’s shoulder as you resumed watching the movie, one hand absentmindedly scratching dori’s head as he purrs in contentment. here, in the dim light of the cozy apartment with minho, love heavy in the air around you two and christmas lights twinkling merrily, you think you have everything you have ever wanted in life.

after all, it didn't really matter where you were, as long as minho was by your side.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild @dandelions-143 @rylea08 @linocz @minseongsworld @realrintaro @kkamismon12 @felinows @baribaaari

[eliivee]

Revenge | L.MH SMAU

status : ongoing

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing : Lee Minho x Reader

ᝰ.ᐟ genre : romance + heavy angst, enemies to lovers, social media au, college au, smut(?)

ᝰ.ᐟ summary : Minho used to bully y/n back in high school, it was mentally and physically, constantly covering y/n with bruises and scars. Until one day, Minho did something unimaginable to y/n that made her change schools. Now they’re in same college and y/n has completely change from a quiet and timid little girl to a petty rich it girl.

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings : smut, trauma, abuse, swearing, kys jokes, sexual jokes, mentions of drug usage, smoking + drinking

PROFILES. . . 🔪

Y/N’s friends | Minho’s friends

One - New school year

Two - God damn it

Three - Where you going, bunny?

Four - Fight fight fight!

🚧

stay tune ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

[his-angell]

"breathe for me." (l.mh)

plot; Stray Kids was doing an interview, promoting their new album. A loud noise causes Y/ns anxiety to spike. She does her best to keep calm, but she was showing signs of a panic attack coming on. Minho took notice immediately. He did his best to reassure her till the cameras shut off. The moment they did, he was quick to help calm her down through a panic attack. paring; fem!9th!member!reader x BestFriend!Lee Minho genre; angst, comfort word count; 2.0k warnings; anxiety, unhealthy habits (scratching, biting/picking lips, pinking skin, holding breath), dissociation, descriptive panic attack, 9th member reader, third person request?; no

The interview was going fine. In fact, it was going rather smooth. Too smooth. (y/n) was always nervous during interviews, but this one seemed to tweak her in the wrong way. She had been picking at her fingers, one of the first tells that she was nervous. She didn't really like this interviewer. They were getting oddly personal. She was sure they didn't mean to, but something about them just threw her off.

Minho took a deep breath. He gently nudged her ankle with his foot, trying to get her to stop picking. She kinda just gave a closed lipped smile to him and looked back forward. She hadn't gotten the memo.. She continued to pick at her fingertips.

"So, (y/n)! How did you like this new concept? You seemed to really enjoy the outfits this comeback." The man read from his card before placing it his lap. (y/n) gave a small smile, nodding. "I loved this new concept! I think it brought a-" She was cut off as a loud crash interrupted her. She was quick to cover her ears.

Small pants shook her body as she looked down. One of the studio lights had fallen over. The other members were startled, but (y/n) was thrown off completely. Minho was quick to gently place a hand on her knee, trying to comfort her the best he could. He looked up to the staff, about to ask for a break, but they were told to keep going with the interview. They had fixed the light, and readjusted the cameras so they could continue.

(y/n) let out a shaky breath as she looked back up. Luckily, her question was sort of glanced over now. The focus was moved to Felix, who beamed as he spoke about the fun filming process. (y/n) was fidgeting worse than she had been before. She was scratching at the back of her hand. She was chewing at her lip. Her eyes flickered back and forth between her members and the staff. She just wanted to be done already. She was about to snap.

Minho could tell. He knew that she had issues with interviews in the first place, but the loud noise did not help. He could see it. In the way she rocked back and forth, or the way she scratched and bit at her skin. He was trying to get her to stop the best he could without drawing attention to her.

It felt like ages before the interview finally ended. (y/n) had never gotten up faster. She didn't even allow staff to take off her mic. She rushed away from the others and into a secluded part of the studio. She couldn't breathe. She was hot. Her vision was growing fuzzy. She crouched down, hugging her head to her knees as she tried to calm down. "Not now.. Not here.." She trembled quietly to herself.

Minho tried to rush after her but was stopped by staff. "I have to help her," He tried, but he was waved off. "She just needs air. I need your equipment." The staff said, moving behind him to start unhooking the microphone from his belt. Minho shrugged him off. "You can get it in a second! There's others you can tend to!" He said harshly, rushing over to where he saw (y/n) rush off too.

Minho crouched down to her, gently pulling her hands away from her head. He hated the way she would always tug at her beautiful hair.. He held her wrists in one hand and gently grabbed her chin with the other. "(y/n), I need you to look at me." He said. He already knew what was happening. The first few times this happened, he was clueless on what to do. But after a few times, he learned what she needed and what she didn't. He knew how to take care of her, and he would in every way he could.

(y/n) slowly looked up. her eyes were fuzzy, her head was heavy. her lips were numb from hyperventilating. "Min-Min- I ca-can't brea-breathe!" She sobbed. She tugged her hands away from his grip and gripped onto her chest, as if trying to pull away the burning that consumed her lungs. "It hurts!" She cried. She was tugging at her top, the long sleeve no help to her right now.

Minho took a deep breath, glancing back to where the other members were. He noticed a few of them looking over with concerning glances. He made a motion for drinking, hoping they would get the hint and bring him water. He turned back to (y/n), gently grabbing her hands again. "I need you to breathe with me, okay?" He tried. The woman shook her head. "I can't! It-It's- I'm too hot-!" She sobbed.

Minho shook his head. He hated being stern with her, but he knew that that's what she needed right now. "(y/n), yes you can. In, hold it, out. In, hold it, out." He said. "Do it with me, okay?" He nodded, slowly starting to do the breathing with her. (y/n) stared at him through her teary eyes. She again tried tugging her hands away, but this time, Minho knew better and held them slightly tighter. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. Jisung rushed over with two bottles of water. Minho thanked him quietly, motioning for him to set them down.

Jisung did as he was instructed. "Can I help at all?" He mumbled quietly. (y/n) hung her head low, holding her breath. She trusted the others, sure, but not enough to be this close to her while shes like this. She trusted Minho with this stuff only. She held her breath in attempts to try and act like she was calm. Minho was quick to shake his head. "No, sorry, Ji." He mumbled. Jisung waved a gentle hand before he walked away quickly. (y/n) gasped for air, sobbing out.

She yanked her hands away and started scratching at her thighs. "Minho- I-I can't do-do this-" She shook her head, refusing to make eye contact with him. Minho took a deep breath. He figure that this was one of her times where she didn't wanna be touched. He nodded a little. "Yes, you can, jagi." He whispered. "I need you to stop scratching." He said sternly. "Sit on your hands, remember?" He said, slipping his own hands bellow his thighs and holding them down.

(y/n) looked at him nervously. She stared at his hands bellow his thighs. She clenched her jaw. She slowly moved to sit on top of her hands. She sobbed out, the uncomfortable feeling of needing to do something with her hands unbearable. "You're doing so good, jagi. Now keep breathing for me." Minho said, starting her with a few breaths. While she breathed, he moved to open one of the water bottles. He held it forward, helping her drink. She hummed once she was done, and he pulled the water away.

(y/n)'s body still trembled. Tears were dried to her cheeks, her makeup smeared and ruined. Her body was still hot and tingly. Now was just the uncomfortable stage.. Cooling down after working herself up. She looked at Minho with timid eyes. "It hurts," She whimpered. Minho nodded softly. "I know, I know." He hushed. He made no move to touch her yet, in case she wasn't ready.

After a few minutes she was. She slowly uncurled from herself and hid herself in Minhos chest. Minho wrapped his arms around her and gently rubbed her back. "You did so good, jagiya." He praised quietly. (y/n) closed her eyes, shaking her head softly. "I was so.. So dramatic." She hiccupped. She had those small hiccups you get after working yourself up so much. She held her hands tightly together, trying to keep from ringing her fingers together. She let out a shaky breath.

Minho hummed and shook his head. "You weren't dramatic at all, (y/n)." He said. "You know better than to say stuff like that after you have a moment like that." He added. He was trying to get her to be better about not criticizing herself after having a panic attack or anything of the sorts. He gently moved to look at her. "Can we talk about what set you off?" He asked. "Can we get home first?" The woman asked quietly. Minho nodded. "Of course. Lets get your equipment off and lets get you home." He said, kissing her head softly.

So thats what they did. He helped her over to the staff, helping keep her stable, since her legs were still jelly. He helped get her makeup off, having stolen a few makeup wipes from the stylists. He gathered his stuff as well as hers, carrying it out to the cars that would be taking them home. (y/n) ended up falling asleep against the window. Minho let her sleep, knowing how exhausted she got.

Once they got to the dorms, he woke her gently, helping her out of the car and walking with her up to the dorms, which luckily they shared. She was so tired. She trudged to bed after kicking off her shoes. She had changed into some comfortable clothes, sitting slumped in her bed. She was always so tired and done after a panic attack. It took so much out of her, all she wanted to do was sink into her bed and never wake up.

Minho had told her to give him a second while he made her tea and changed his clothes. He at least got his clothes changed.. By time he went in to check on her to see what tea she wanted, she was falling asleep sitting up. He sighed. He was glad he didn't turn the kettle on.. He went around, turning off the lights before heading to her room. "Jagiya, hey," He gently rubbed her shoulder.

(y/n) jumped a little bit, whining as she looked up at Minho. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry.. I was trying not to fall asleep.." She grumbled. She yawned softly, covering her mouth. "You're okay, (y/n). I know you're tired." Minho said. "Before you sleep though.. I do wanna talk about what set you off today." He took a deep breath, sitting next to her. The woman whined and covered her face with the paws of her hoodie sleeves. "I don't want to! I'm tired, and it was stupid!" She whined into her hands.

Minho pried her hands away from her face and held them gently. "You know you'll feel better if you talk about it." He said with a small shrug. She squinted at him, knowing that he was right. She sighed. "I've just been off all month.. There were too many people in that studio. it was cramped." She shrugged. "Then the freaking light, it pushed me over the edge. I really thought I was gonna be able to go a day without freaking otu, Min." She frowned, looking down. Minho hummed. "But that doesn't mean theres not other days you can't beat, jagiya." He said, giving her a small smile.

"This is just one bad day. Tomorrow will be better." He gently tucked her messy hair behind her ear. "Its okay to have a bad day." He said softly. (y/n) slowly nodded. She let out a shaky breath. "Thanks, Min." She said quietly. Another yawn slipped past her lips. "Will you sleep with me tonight?" She asked sheepishly. Minho chuckled softly. "You mean like I have been for the past week?" He teased. (y/n) rolled her eyes jokingly, a small smile cracking her lips. "Yes, like you have for the past week." She giggled softly.

Minho hummed and nodded softly. "Yeah, sure, jagi," He chuckled. He laid down, gently getting under her blankets and opening them for her. (y/n) cuddled under the sheets, cuddling into Minhos chest. "Thank you, Min." She whispered. "Mm, no need to thank me." Minho said as he reached over to turn her lamp off. "I love you.." She mumbled sleepily. Minho chuckled softly and kissed her head. "I love you too, jagi." He yawned as he wrapped his arms around her, soon falling asleep after her.

all writing rights are reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[subskz]

strawberry lemonade - l.mh

content: sub minho, dom reader, oral (m receiving), temperature play, foodplay (use of a popsicle), teasing, cum eating, reader calls minho kitty/kitten bc i am physically incapable of writing anything else, reader’s sex is unspecified, kinda unsanitary

word count: 5.3k

It was hot. 

The air conditioner in your apartment, however determined it was, served no match for the unforgiving amounts of heat seeping in from outside, hanging heavy all around you and coating your skin with a thin layer of sweat. You’d tried cracking open your balcony door with the hopes of letting a refreshing breeze billow through, but all you were met with was more of the sticky, humid summer air instead.

In the end, you and Minho had taken refuge in the kitchen, where the effects of your barely-functioning AC were strongest. As a last resort to escape the sweltering temperatures, you decided to open up your freezer and dig out a popsicle, more relieved than you’d ever been in your life when you found that there was one more remaining. Even after you’d fished it out, you were reluctant to let go of the chilly waves rolling out from the freezer, basking in them for a few more precious moments before begrudgingly shutting the door. 

The sound of crumpling plastic as you unwrapped your popsicle caught Minho’s attention, and he peered over at you curiously from where he was perched on the counter. He’d taken it upon himself to sit there in an attempt to cool himself off, a trusty wet napkin stuck to his forehead. His eyes gleamed when you approached him, zeroing in on the frozen treat in your hand with a catlike accuracy.

“This is the last one."

Minho frowned at that. Without missing a beat, he stuck his hand out to snatch it from your grasp. “Then gimme.” 

“No way.” You barely veered out of reach in time. “This is a matter of life and death, Lee Minho.”

“You mean you wouldn’t die for me?” he clicked his tongue. “So cold.”

“It is cold,” you agreed, opening your mouth to rest the popsicle against your tongue. Strawberry flavored; his favorite. It was icy and refreshing and nothing short of heavenly in the way it chilled your mouth, tinged with a hint of lemonade to balance out the sweetness.

Minho sniffed irritably, resting his palms on the counter to lean back and spread his legs, like even his own body heat had become too disgusting for him to bear. “I might actually die, y’know.”

You didn’t bother to make your hum of sympathy sound convincing, closing your lips fully around the popsicle without a care in the world. If your roles had been reversed, you were certain you’d be met with the exact same smug indifference from him—topped off with plenty of teasing and laughing directly in your face for good measure. With the way he was eyeing you so keenly, a valuable opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine presented itself. So, you sucked for a few moments longer before pulling it out of your mouth with a dramatic pop.

“Mmm,” you licked your lips. “I get why you like this flavor so much.”

He made a face, nose scrunching up. “Don’t do all that in front of me.”

“Jealous?”

“Listen closely and you'll hear it calling out my name,” he said it so seriously, you might’ve actually believed him if he were anyone else. "Begging me to save it."

“Uh-huh.” You dragged your tongue along the dessert from bottom to top, ending it with a playful flick to its tip. “I think the heat’s got you hallucinating.”

Minho huffed; sulky, lips downturned and eyes flickering between you and the popsicle. Its citrusy flavor flooded your tastebuds as you took it back into your mouth, letting out another satisfied noise that was even more exaggerated than before.

He went silent for a bit, long enough for you to figure that he’d lost interest in convincing you to hand it over. You continued licking contently away, growing less concerned with taunting him and more concerned with gathering up the juices that had begun to melt from the heat of your mouth. You dragged your lips down to the popsicle’s base, slurping at it loudly in a way that was, in your defense, unintentional that time.

“It’s dripping,” he commented.

It came casual, breezy as ever, but when you glanced up, you found his eyes locked on you, so intensely that it had you taken aback for a moment. 

Then, you noticed it—a stray, red droplet splashing to the floor, with another traveling down your hand, preparing to do the same.

“Seriously,” he complained. “You’re not even appreciating it right! This hurts to watch.”

Without breaking eye contact, you brought your tongue to your wrist, swiping up the trail of juice before it could fall after the other.

“Better?”

To your surprise, Minho was the first to look away. He turned his head with another huff, seemingly annoyed, but a subtle shift in his expression piqued your curiosity beyond that. The corner of his lips twitched, trying to stifle an awkward puff of laughter, eyes blinking so profusely you’d think a drop of sweat might have trickled into them. 

His legs weren’t spread anymore, you noticed. In fact, they were unnaturally close; thighs pressed firmly together despite the sticky discomfort he must have felt with his skin rubbing against itself.

It dawned on you, for the first time, that it may not have been you who Minho was jealous of.

Feigning obliviousness, you slipped into the barstool right across from where he was seated on the counter. He stiffened, turning his attention back to you just as you licked another long stripe up the popsicle.

“Don’t get so close,” his voice cracked. “I don't need your extra body heat right now.”

“Want some?” you asked innocently.

You tilted the popsicle towards him. Dripping, red, shining with an inviting glaze where you’d worked your mouth. A melted droplet accumulated at its tip, weighing itself down and splattering against his thigh. 

He almost flinched, eyes darting down to the spot where it’d landed, then back up to your swelling lips. Even as he willed himself to ignore it, he was all too aware of the cool liquid spreading along his skin, quickening his heartbeat the further down it traveled.

“No,” he swallowed. “You already ruined it.”

“C’mon, let’s play that game you like so much. From your mouth to mine, right?”

Minho would always suggest it with the most self-satisfied look on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips curving into an alluring smirk around whichever food he was trying to convince you to take from his mouth that day. Now, he didn’t look nearly as proud of himself. Squirming awkwardly under your stare, fingers fidgeting against the countertop, scrambling for something to bounce back with before he was completely cornered.

“That’s more of a favor, really,” he managed a trace of that crooked grin you knew. “So it’ll taste better for you.”

You rested your elbow on his thigh, pushing back a smile of your own when you felt his muscles tense up beneath you. 

“Then make it taste better for me.”

You brought the popsicle up to nudge Minho’s lips. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged it along them, tracing their pouty shape and coating them red with its juices. Even with the mesmerizing sight demanding all of your attention, you still didn’t miss the way his breathing began to pick up, chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly under his loose-fitted shirt. 

Then, he opened his mouth, just wide enough for you to push past his glistening lips and glide the frozen treat along his tongue. His stare realigned with yours, pupils blown wide; so dark that you could see yourself reflected in them. A glimpse into his own view, one that had his composure fizzling out alarmingly fast.

You inched forward bit by bit, taking your sweet time to admire how naturally his lips wrapped around it, how effortlessly he took it into his mouth, like he was meant to be filled. This time, Minho didn’t shy away, regardless of how your hungry eyes were pooling a heat in his stomach that was far different from the suffocating summer air. His eyelids drooped, thick lashes fanning over his gaze as it bore right back into yours. Defiant and desperate all at once—challenging you to take back the popsicle, pleading for you to take him with it. 

A soft noise rose in his throat when you pushed as far down as you could go, so deep that your fingers brushed the entrance of his mouth. You stayed like that for just a moment longer, then pulled the popsicle out in one fell swoop, grazing it along his front teeth and leaving a cute pair of bite marks engraved in its side. 

He had no chance to suck the melted coating off its surface before you popped it back into your mouth, still dripping with his saliva. You felt his thighs squeeze together under your arm, the red tint of his ears creeping up on his cheeks when you swallowed up the sweet blend without hesitation. 

“You were right,” you murmured. “That’s much better.”

His lips were still parted, and you rubbed your thumb over the corner of his mouth to break the trail of drool that had dribbled out. Then, without warning, your hand fell from his face, brushing over the spot between his thighs that he’d been working so hard to distract you from.

“But I think I wanna taste something else, now.”

Minho’s stomach flipped, breath hitching so loud he was certain you could hear it. He shifted under your hand in a pointless attempt to conceal how hard he’d become, but all it did was press his bulge further against your palm. You leaned down to run your tongue along the dried patch of strawberry on his thigh, cooling the skin where his shorts had ridden up and making goosebumps rise to the surface.

“Poor baby.” You gave him a squeeze, watching in delight as his cheeks puffed out, flushing a shade deeper in an effort to hold in his gasp. “You’re really overheated, huh?”

“You…” he tried to get a handle on his voice, but much to his horror, it trembled anyway. “You did this on p-purpose.”

“Did not,” you pouted. “It’s not my fault you’re such a spoiled little kitten. Can’t even watch me eat a popsicle without wishing it was your dick instead.”

Any retort Minho had planned died in his throat when you slid the popsicle back into your mouth. Watching it push past your lips when you were hovering so close to his bulge was enough to make him throb in the confines of his shorts—a detail that, embarrassingly enough, he was certain you felt clear as day under your hand.

Holding the dessert steady between your teeth, you dipped your fingers below the waistband of his shorts, tugging at the elastic to pull them down along with his boxers. It was almost cute; how he deliberately slowed his movements to avoid coming off as too eager. How he was still trying to convince you he was unaffected, even when your fingers had just been wrapped around the proof of how aroused he’d become without a single touch from you. Still, you let him have his way. Like watching a cat struggle to unhook its claws from a piece of fabric, you waited patiently as he unstuck his thighs from the counter little by little, hoisting himself up so you could slip the garments off at last.

His length sprang up against his stomach, drops of precum seeping into his white shirt to form a small, translucent stain. It made your adrenaline spike—imagining what must’ve been going through Minho’s head for him to get so worked up purely off his own thoughts.

You dragged your lips up the popsicle as you pulled it out of your mouth again, agonizingly slow, savoring every bit of flavor just to make his patience slip a bit more. 

“Is this what you meant when you said it was dripping?”

If the question itself hadn’t been enough to fluster him, what came next surely was. You nudged the popsicle playfully against his dick, flicking its leaking head with just enough force to make him jolt. He bit back his cry through gritted teeth, mustering up all his self-control to ignore the sharp chill that rocked his body so he could string together a response. 

“If I say y-yes,” he breathed. “Will you lick it, too?”

He cursed himself for barely being able to get the words out properly. His eyes squeezed shut to form an adorable grimace, refusing to meet the smirk that he knew was spreading across your face.

“Every last drop.”

You gave him no time to brace himself before you pressed the popsicle to his inner thigh and dragged it inwards all at once. Minho reacted instantly; muscles going taut, legs threatening to close in on each other, hips shrinking away from the ice cold stimulation. A thin, pink layer of juice was left behind everywhere you roamed, complimenting the fading marks you’d left on his skin days ago. 

The sensation was cool and glossy and deliciously unfamiliar against his flesh, parts of his body that were rarely touched by anything but you. It made him more sensitive than ever to the sloppy drag of your tongue that followed. He couldn’t even think to suppress his hiccup as you licked up the entire trail of sweet liquid, mixed with the salty tinge of his sweat.

“Is that better, baby?” you sucked up the leftover juice with an open-mouthed kiss, dangerously close to the base of his length. “Cooling you off?”

He could only form a soft grunt, not trusting himself to speak steadily when the popsicle suddenly found his other thigh, sending a visible shiver all throughout his body.

“Needy little kitten. All the attention just has to be on you, hm?” You twirled your wrist, drawing careful circles into his skin with the popsicle’s tip. “Is this how hard you get for me every time I’ve got something else in my mouth?”

The gentle rhythm of your movements almost lulled Minho into a trance, easing the uncomfortable heat that had been consuming his senses and replacing it with a pleasurable ache that made it difficult for him to focus on anything else.

“Y-you’re mean,” he stuttered out. “It's ‘cause you were teasing me.”

“Anything looks like teasing when you think with your dick, baby.”

You slid the popsicle further up his thigh, listening closely to the sound of his quickening breath as you approached the spot that was doing all the begging his mouth couldn’t verbalize just yet, twitching and leaking more uncontrollably by the second. A shaky sigh escaped him, dragging out into a moan when you flattened your tongue against his skin and followed the messy trail of juice, countering its cool sensation with the warmth of your mouth.

The feeling of his flesh—soft and pulsing and completely vulnerable under your teeth—was too tempting to resist biting down on. It sent his hips snapping forward with embarrassing speed, only making you sink your teeth deeper into his thigh. A low, frustrated whine met your ears, rife with desire for the wet heat that was taunting him just inches away from his cock, chipping away at his already minimal patience.

“Hah, more,” he demanded weakly. “Gimme more.”

“Still hot?” You nibbled until you were certain a brand new patch of red would be left behind on his plush skin, relishing in the remaining traces of strawberry as you gave it a final, languid lick. “I got you baby.”

In all its haziness, Minho’s mind processed your intentions a split second too late. His eyes fluttered open in alarm just in time to catch the mischievous glint that crossed yours. A fresh surge of frost rippled through his senses as you slid the popsicle along the underside of his cock, pressing its full length against him all at once.

Even as his hand flew up to clamp over his mouth, a broken cry rang out through the kitchen regardless, so loud that it sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. The satisfaction it brought you was only amplified as he immediately began writhing under your hand, hips twisting and muscles clenching, like he himself didn’t know whether he wanted to escape the numbing cold, or lean into it—to let the strange thrill it created in his stomach take over in full.

“A-ah! Wait, wait, wait,” his honey voice spiked into something sharper; an uncharacteristically raspy squeak. “Too much, ‘s too much!”

“Too much?” you echoed. “It’s for your own good, kitty. You wanted more, right?”

You glanced up to find his hand now curled into a fist, bunny teeth sinking into it to restrain another pathetic sound. He met your eyes with a scowl that might’ve been intimidating if he didn’t look completely and utterly helpless.

“That’s n-not what I meant,” he mumbled miserably through his fingers. “You know it’s not.”

You tilted your head, determined to keep your hand firmly in place, even with all his wriggling around. “Then what did you mean?”

The popsicle was melting faster now thanks to all the contact with his burning skin, staining red all over your fingers and dripping torturously down his length. You rolled the treat lower to emphasize your question, wedging it against his balls and making his cock spasm wildly, as if crying out the answer for you.

“I thought kitties were supposed to be smart,” you frowned. “But this is all it takes for your head to go blank, huh?”

Another whine spilled out of him, too incoherent for you to make out what he was saying. But the way he blinked down at you, pupils blown out and putting his desperation on full display, told you all that you needed to know. He was clinging to the last few shreds of his pride, not quite ready to beg for you yet. Even so, you decided to indulge him—there would be plenty of opportunities for you to drag out the pleas you knew he was capable of later on. That, and, maybe the look that he was giving you, even more irresistible than any words might sound coming from his mouth, affected you more than you’d like to admit.

“Guess I should stop playing with my food,” your breath fanned over his skin in a murmur, like a gentle breeze quelling the throb in his body that had become near unbearable. 

Minho searched aimlessly for something clever to say, something to pretend like his brain wasn’t about to fizzle out watching you draw closer and closer, but any quip was cut short by his sharp inhale when you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock in one, fluid motion. He doubled over the moment you did, hands falling to grip the edge of the counter like he might fully collapse if he didn’t. Relieved by the warmth of your mouth finding him at last, overwhelmed by how it contrasted the popsicle’s relentless chill. The combination of temperatures was nearly enough to bring the tension building in his abdomen to a tipping point, right then and there.

You began sucking at his tip without giving him any chance to adjust, squeezing your mouth rhythmically around him to add addictive bursts of pleasure that made him pulse under your lips. He hissed softly as your tongue pressed against his head, teasing under its groove and tracing its shape. His taste mixed with the lingering flavor of the popsicle, earning a satisfied hum from you that vibrated around him and sent a jolt of arousal through his veins.

“Feels good,” he mewled. “More, more, more.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you took his cock deeper into your mouth, engulfing as much of him with the velvety warmth as you could. His whimper turned up in pitch when you slid the half-melted popsicle along the part of his length your lips didn’t cover, back arching and hips bucking forward before he could even think to stop himself.

Your eyes darted up in a warning, stern gaze meeting his half-lidded one and making his heart leap in his chest. Solely from the way he stiffened, you could tell he’d immediately realized his mistake, but he pushed back his apology, pouting down at you instead.

It was an expression you understood all too well—communicating the need for you to control him when he couldn’t control himself. You brought your free hand to his stomach, flattening your palm against it to push him back against the countertop. The added pressure to his abdomen made Minho’s cock jerk on your tongue; so, deviously, you dug your fingers into his shirt, squeezing the soft flesh of his tummy and holding him firmly in place as you began to bob your head once more. 

Every wet slide of your lips was followed with a drag of the popsicle along his length, creating a fresh layer of juice where you’d been sucking just moments before. The groan he managed to stifle was quickly followed by another, more shameless one as you repeated the motion, sinking down to swallow up the strawberry coating, then pulling back so that just his tip was left throbbing in your mouth. 

Gradually, you built up a steady pace, timing the strokes of the popsicle with your mouth so that every inch of his dick was being stimulated at once. Hot and frigid, sloppy and smooth, like you were freezing his body over and setting it back on fire. It wasn’t long before the dizzying blend of sensations became too much for him to handle. You could feel his stomach expanding faster against your palm, could hear his cute grunts grow less and less restrained with each glide of your tongue. Minho’s hips surged forward in another reflex when you paused your bobbing to tease his slit, leaving him longing to be swallowed whole by you once more. A broken moan of frustration escaped him as you pushed down on his stomach to force him back, harder this time.

You pulled off of his cock completely, grazing your front teeth along it as you did and making him shudder under your hands.

“Quit squirming, kitten,” you scolded. “You’re making a mess.”

You swiped your tongue over your lips to lick off the strawberry sheen, well aware of his glossy eyes piercing holes into you as you gathered up the drops of saliva and slush. He moved around indignantly in his spot, a low, restless protest rumbling in his throat. But even he knew better than to test his luck by jerking his hips forward a third time, regardless of how he was already aching to feel your mouth wrapped around him again. Your gentle tone was deceptive, a fact made clear in the way you started working the popsicle against his dick again, like an unspoken threat. There wasn’t much left of it, anymore—less than half, with the last chunk rapidly melting away around the wooden stick. He had trouble deciding whether the friction it created was intoxicating, or utterly excruciating.

Minho’s entire face was flushed, now—red with lust, embarrassment, and the strain of trying to mask his reactions to all the different ways you were toying with him. The napkin on his forehead had become thoroughly soaked, lopsided and slipping from its place. Sweat dripped from his bangs, trickling down his face and neck, glazing his skin to create a positively sinful sight.

“Looks like you’re only getting hotter, baby,” you mused, tapping the wooden stick against his length in mock contemplation. “Maybe I should just stop?”

“No, no, no,” he didn’t bother to hide the panic in his voice. “N-not enough. Gimme more, I want more.”

He held his breath when you opened your mouth and leaned in again, only to give the popsicle a lazy, taunting lick.

“More of what? This?” You took a small bite, savoring it with all the careful attention you’d been giving his cock mere moments ago. The thought alone was enough to make Minho’s head spin with want, with a need for you to put your focus back on him. To work his body in ways no one else could, make him feel things no one else could—not even himself. 

“There’s not much left, kitty. Hurry up and tell me what you need so bad, or I won’t be able to cool you off anymore.”

He whimpered pitifully, delaying the inevitable. “M-mean. So mean.”

“So mean,” you hummed. “You love running your pretty little mouth, right? Just use it to say please, and you’ll get your treat.”

Minho was quiet for a moment, thighs rubbing helplessly together as he weighed the options in his foggy mind. With the way your smile grew watching him fidget, he was almost convinced you could hear his racing thoughts and pounding heartbeat. You took the popsicle between your lips, pulling the last bit carefully up the stick, ready to swallow it down.

“Please,” he whispered.

It was lilted and sweet, infinitely more delicious than any of the flavors that had been flooding your tongue. He probably knew exactly what he was doing—looking you straight in the eye as he said it, making absolutely sure it took full effect. But even as the feather-light word graced your ears and put an undeniable flutter in your chest, you weren’t ready to let him off that easily.

“Please, what?” You inched closer, enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from your lips.

His adam’s apple bobbed, eyes squeezing shut. “Please…your m-mouth,” he tried again. “Don’t make me beg for it.”

“But you sound so cute when you do.” You brushed your lips over the head of his length, earning a sharp hiss from him as you smeared around the fresh drops of precum that had dribbled out. “You could get anything you wanted with a voice like that. Since when are you this shy, baby?”

“Please,” he repeated. His eyebrows furrowed together in pure desperation, and combined with the view of his eyelashes resting delicately on his cheeks, you could’ve caved in a heartbeat. “Please, I need it. Can’t wait anymore. Don’t wanna wait anymore. Please, please, please.”

He was borderline babbling now, each word growing more and more frantic and sending another ripple down your spine.

“There we go. See how pretty you make it sound?” you cooed. “Let me show you how nice I am to good boys.”

You scooped up the final piece of the popsicle before it could melt completely, tossing its stick on the counter and curling your fingers around Minho’s dripping cock. His thighs shot up as you took him back into your mouth all in one go, sinking down as far as you could take him. The strawberry slush dissolved against your tongue, cooling the inside of your mouth to create an icy blend of saliva that was far too much for his hypersensitive body to handle.

Instantly, his voice rang out through the kitchen without an ounce of restraint. Your lips curved into a smile, swallowing around his length and making his head loll to the side in a fit of pleasure. His jaw went slack, spilling out a string of moans that were nothing short of angelic, a perfect contrast to just how filthy he’d become for you. Sticky with sweat, juice, and drool.

You slid up and down his cock with swollen lips, building up a merciless pace and creating sounds that made Minho’s brain go haywire. His fingers clawed helplessly at the smooth surface of the countertop, so frantic to find something to hold onto that the prominent veins in his forearms began to bulge out. As much as it gave you a power rush to have him so fragile on your tongue, your protective instincts kicked in.

You’d barely even pulled off of his length for a second before he was whining in protest, disoriented eyes fluttering open, hips stuttering in search of your mouth again. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, kitty,” you murmured. 

Delicately, you brought your hands to his thrashing ones, soothing their erratic movements and guiding them to rest on your head.

All it took was you licking a long stripe up his cock for him to immediately latch onto you. With a grateful whimper, he tangled his fingers in your hair, small palms pawing rhythmically and blunt nails digging into your scalp as you began working your mouth again. The slickness that coated his length with every bob of your head pushed him to the edge alarmingly fast, you could tell by the way he began squirming again. You slid your hands under his shirt to grab hold of his hips, pinning them down against the countertop to keep him steady as you drew out his climax.

“More, c-close, ‘most there,” he slurred. “Ah, ah, ah!”

“Is it really that good, baby?” you swirled your tongue around his tip, sinking your fingers deeper into his flesh to stop him from bucking. “Even the popsicle lasted longer than you.”

Minho couldn’t find it in him to bite back, not when you followed up your taunt by closing your lips fully around him and sucking at the head of his cock. He bent forward with a hiccup, leaning so far down that you could feel droplets of his sweat splatter onto your skin.

“Please,” he gasped without any hesitation left. “Going crazy, a-ah!”

Instead of outright granting him permission, you tongued at his slit, encouraging him to let go. It sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core, serving as the final catalyst to release the pressure that had been piling up in his stomach. Despite how sharp his cry was, tinged with a cute rasp from how much he’d exerted his voice, he came gently on your tongue. Soft and delicate, just like him. You continued sucking intently at his tip as his high washed over him, feeling every tremor of bliss pass through his thighs trembling around your head and his hands gripping your hair like his life depended on it. 

His airy moans faded into weak little mewls with each soothing circle your thumbs drew into his hipbones. When the final spurt of his cum had spilled onto your tongue, you let his twitching cock fall from your mouth, leaving him dazed and panting on the countertop. 

You were careful not to lose a single drop of his seed resting heavy on your tongue as you rose from the barstool to full standing, coming face to face with Minho. He looked utterly spent—eyes half-lidded, face flushed and glistening with sweat, puffed lips still parted with every pant that slipped past them. He blinked slowly back at you as your hand gripped his jaw, squeezing at his cheeks to urge his mouth further open.

A soft vocalization built in his throat, quickly muffled as you locked his lips with your own, spilling his own release into his mouth. Your tongue slid against his, catching the bittersweet taste of his cum combined with the popsicle’s residual flavor. You savored the kiss for a moment longer before pulling away, watching his throat bob as he drank down the mess of fluids. All his attempts from before to appear uninterested seemed so laughable now, with how eagerly he took it all. For good measure, he stuck his tongue out lazily once he finished, showing you that he hadn’t let any of it go to waste.

You gave his cheek an approving pat.

“You like the taste of your milk, kitty?”

Minho sputtered, ears burning an even deeper red than when you'd had him in your mouth. You swiped your thumb gently over the corner of his lips, pushing a stray drop of his seed back into his mouth. Despite the embarrassment setting his skin on fire, his tongue still flickered over the pad over your finger in a kittenish lick, swallowing it hungrily down with the rest. 

“You’re insane,” he finally mumbled.

“Yeah?” You leaned in again to brush your lips playfully over his, allowing the traces of strawberry lemonade to waft over his senses. “Guess you've rubbed off on me.”

[tddyhyck]

perv!mark who… [ l.mh ]

pairing ⇢ perv!mark x afab!reader

warnings ⇢ panty stealing, masturbation, food play, spit, tiddy obsessed mark

masterlist

perv!mark who steals panties every time he’s over or takes them off of you he has a growing collection in his car and his room

perv!mark who can’t get enough of your chest his lips constantly finding your nipples licking and sucking

perv!mark who sends you videos of him getting off moaning your name while he shakily films himself in front of the mirror groaning as he coats his reflection in cum

perv!mark who likes to drag cold popsicles over your skin creating goosebumps that he chases with his tongue

perv!mark who loves when you play with his hair but pulls your hands away before he can get hard

perv!mark who records your whines and whimpers and moans and then puts them in a song and he can’t help but touch himself while he’s working on it

perv!mark who blushes when anyone talks about sex but his brain is full of the dirtiest fantasies

perv!mark who accidentally calls you mommy

perv!mark who lays beneath you with your ass is in his face he has his laptop sitting on your back while you play on your phone and he secretly opens his albums flipping through your pictures and videos getting hard beneath you he toys with your cheeks pulling them apart to stare at your cunt up close dragging his fingers from your clit to your rim

perv!mark who would pay you to mail him your panties if you were going to be away from each other for a long time

perv!mark who “accidentally” catches you touching yourself but of course he doesn’t announce himself just watches in the shadows

perv!mark who leaves his shirt on you while he sucks on your nipples getting the white fabric sticky and wet

perv!mark who asks you to spit in his mouth

© tddyhyck

[skteezcursed]

❝DEVIL LOOKING ANGEL❞ — p.sh & l.mh

PAIRING. park seonghwa x fem!reader x lee minho.

SYNOPSIS. Seonghwa and Minho both have a crush on you, and one day they decide to share you with each other so everyone wins.

GENDER. smut. tiny bit of fluff.

AU/TROPE.friends to friends with benefits. non idol au. uni au (implied).

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WARNINGS. mean dom hwa. mean dom minho. brat sub reader. normalization of drinking. oral (f and m receiving). face fucking. tongue fucking. fingering. edging. overstimulation. slight voyeurism. pussy slapping. spanking. praises and degradations. dacryphilia. pet names (pretty, slut, whore). sir is used to refer to both minho and seonghwa. unprotected sex (please don't). double penetration. aftercare is also important.

WORD COUNT. 9k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. sorry for the 9k, i got caried away, also, this is way more filthy than I originally planned. first smut ever so bare with me, please. thanks @cybrsan and @straykidsholicleigh for believing that i could write smut, hope it lived up to the expectation, bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

                 You’ve always knew Felix was rich, both him and Changbin had always been the richest of the group, which was why whenever there was a party or any type of celebration, their places would be the first ones to be considered, so there was little to no surprise when Felix called everyone to his family lake house for a start of the summer celebration.

                 As a magnet, your eyes searched for the two men that have been living in your mind rent free since they joined your friend group. Park Seonghwa and Lee Minho. You have seen many gorgeous men in your life, hell, your friend group could be considered the one with the hottest guys around, but there was something about Seonghwa and Minho that always drawn you to both, although you never actually acted on it, but flirty comments and moments had always been a constant presence in between you three.

                 In all truth, you couldn’t choose and the fact they are friends – even prior to be in your group – it made it even harder. Your fingers and toys being the only companions whenever the situation got to a certain extreme, especially when both became extremely flirting with you in a row, as they never did really get close to you if they were both in the same room, which didn’t help the choosing process. If you could ever choose.

                 There was no surprise when your eyes met with both of them near the infinite pool of Felix’s lake house. Minho still had his shirt on, dealing with the meat, but Seonghwa was already shirtless, arms stretched on the edge, eyes fixed on you, as if he could undress you and you were barely there for five seconds. Minho’s eyes noticed Seonghwa’s and finally found your figure at the entrance, talking to Felix. Feeling both eyes on you, eating you, didn’t help with the butterflies on your stomach.

                 “Minho is almost done with the first batch, Chan is in the kitchen with Ji and Joong making snacks, you wanna drink something?”

                 “Whatever you guys are having,” your voice was met with a can of beer in front of you as a hand landed on your lower back, feeling the water wet your shirt, meeting with Seonghwa smirk, “Hwa, this is yours I-”

                 “It’s okay, I was about to get Minho another one, I can get two more on the way while you finish this one,” his lips met with your cheek as the pads of his finger digged a little on your side, the clothes probably helping with not leaving a mark. “I’ll be right back, go be a good girl and keep Minho company while I get us something to drink.”

                 You felt hot through out your body, resting on your cheeks and in your lower stomach, holding yourself not to brush your thighs together at the pet name and what Seonghwa was asking, trying to ignore how his fingers still lingered in you, even through the shirt. The beer came right to your mouth and you drank down the liquid, needing a little bit of liquid courage to go through that party. Minho already had his signature smirk in your direction, and you drank the rest of the beer, throwing your can besides his near the lawn.

                 “Hey pretty, how is it going?”

                 His left hand extended to you as you held his hand in yours, feeling the pull towards him, as he wrapped his left arm around your waist, his hand still entangled with yours as his lips met with your right cheek, you felt his thumb caress slightly your back, but never unlocking your fingers.

                 “I’m good, and you? Is anyone helping you out, can I do anything?”

                 “I’m okay, Hwa has been helping around, mostly bringing me drinks,” he laughed lightly, but never really leaving your hand, “you can keep me company if you want, wouldn’t mind at all to have you around.”

                 Before you could answer, Seonghwa voice could be heard, and you slipped your hands from Minho, missing the way his eyes fell slightly on his hand before exchanging looks with Seonghwa, as you were too busy getting both yours and Minho’s drink. Both boys exchanged quick looks as you opened Minho’s can before handing it out to him, grabbing yours and opening, looking at both raising your can, being followed by both with a small smile.

                 “Lix said you almost done with the meat.”

                 “Yeah, hold on, let me give you a piece and you tell me what you think.”

                 “You can tell the truth, he’s a big boy,” Seonghwa said with a sly smile while you drank more of the beer as you saw their eye exchange, “I think he can take a pretty girl saying his food is bad.”

                 “I can take a pretty girl saying anything to me as long as I have her attention.”

                 You felt your cheeks burn and you lowered your head, but noticed the exchange of glances between the two this time, not missing the compliment that both said. Your mind going a hundred miles an hour, only getting worse as you felt his hand on your forearm squeezing slightly catching your attention and giving you a piece of the meat he had just taken out of the grill.

                 Ignoring the best you could the way both pair of eyes were staring at you, how their eyes lingered on your lips, how Minho’s thumb went to clean the grease that was falling from the corner of your mouth before he brings his own thumb to his lips, how Seonghwa’s eyes lingering a little longer on you at that, the sly smile always present.

                 That should have been warning enough for what that day held for you.

                 The party had been full on throughout the day. You were going from group to group, few beers here, a bit of food there and you knew you were hitting your limit to some extend as you joined some of the people at the pool, taking the rest of your beer before going to the other edge, while mostly still stayed closer to the lawn as you headed to the infinite edge.

                 The sun was setting on the lake, making the rays of sunshine dance across the calm waves, your arms rested on the pool edge, a bit of the water falling through as the tips of your toes hit the bottom. You thanked that the lake was empty that day, most families still organizing to wander to that area, which meant you and your friends could have one of those parties.

                 Hands grabbed your waist as you felt a hot breath on your ear, your head turning slightly finding Seonghwa right there behind you, if he reached closer you could feel his perfect body against yours, and there was nothing you wanted more than that at that moment. The alcohol in your system quickly reaching the part of your brain that was in charge of morality, clouding it as you allowed your body to move a little away from the edge, your head resting on his shoulder slightly as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, hands resting on you lower belly.

                 You tried your best to ignored how close his hands were to your core, how his hot breath reached your ear, how his abs felt against your back, but most importantly, the slight poke you felt on your ass. There was no way he was actually hard, the alcohol was definitely messing with your mind.

                 “What you doing here by yourself?”

                 “Just felt like watching the sunset at the lake, I like it when there’s no one but us here,” he sensed how your breathing hitched as his lips touched the tip of your ear slightly, a light chuckle coming out of his mouth as you felt a small caress on your belly. “Why you here? I thought you and Minho were organizing some of the drinks.”

                 “Just didn’t feel right to leave a pretty girl alone,” a small kiss was placed on your neck, followed by a small bite that made you suppress a gasp, but not the jolt that your body made, bringing you more in contact with Seonghwa’s body. “Oh, you liked that didn’t you?”

                 “Seonghwa…” a plea leaved your lips as he kissed your neck again, one of his hands roamed at your side, as the other pulled you even closer to him body, allowing you to feel everything, “Please… Someone… Someone can see it…”

                 “I’m sorry pretty, but I’ve controlled myself too much and just like you said, there’s no one but us here and I’m sure everyone is too busy or drunk to notice us, right now.”

                 His right hand kept wandering around your body before resting on your thigh squeezing the inside of it, forcing you to open slightly.

                 “But what if someone approaches?”

                 Although his body never left yours, his mouth did, slow breathing right next to your ear. His right hand making small circles on the inside of your thigh, so close to where you wanted them, and yet, you two were still around everyone.

                 “Just say the word and I’ll stop,” you knew he meant it, mainly because he stopped with the caress at your silent, his hands moving to rest on the front of your thigh, a small whine leaving your lips as your right hand quickly found his, trying to keep him from straying too far away from where you needed them, a small chuckled was everything he gave you as a respond. “I knew we weren’t seeing things.”

                 “We?”

                 Seonghwa’s hand went back to where they were, but raising slowly closer to your core.

                 “You were never the most discreet person, you are a starer,” the pad of his middle finger finally meeting your clit still hidden from the swimwear, but sensitive nonetheless, making you bite your lip as he slowly and tortuously made circle movements with random points of pressure, “not that we have been the most discreet ones as well.”

                 “Hwa -”

                 “And now you are letting me touch you while all our friends are here,” you whined as he increased the moments of pressure on your clit, your right hand holding the edge of the pool, your waist moving to make your ass press against his bulge, “ah, and eager as well, but would you let me fuck you right here, in front of everyone?”

                 You held a moan at the thought, trying not to actually picture how badly you wanted him to do it, how badly you had imagined his hands roaming your body just like that, his fingers on your clit and inside of you, trying to ignore the outline of his cock against your ass.

                 “It’s not like you are not eager as well,” you wiggled your ass against his bulge and felt his grip tightens around your waist, while the other palmed your front, you turned your head trying to ignore how you could feel the tips of his fingers on you clothed core. “Like you said, it’s not like you have been discreet as to how you look at me.”

                 The sly smile you gave him was received with a smirk and a raise of eyebrows.

                 “Minho was right, you are a brat,” before you could gather the words that came out of his mouth, you felt him swiftly moving your bottoms to the side, feeling one of his fingers start to enter you, but not deep enough, “no words now, pretty?”

                 “So, you and Minho talked about me?”

                 Without warning he entered with another finger, deeper this time as you felt his palm press slightly on your clit, making you bite your lip repressing a moan.

                 “Oh pretty, we did more than just talk about you,” he curled his fingers inside of you before tortuously and slowly take them out and in again, as you rested your head on his shoulder, thanking for his broad shoulders to hide you two from everyone behind you, “you have no idea how many times we fantasized about your cunt? How many times we jacked off at the thought of you?” You clenched around his fingers, making him chuckled. “Oh, you like that pretty? The thought of us thinking about you? Sharing you?”

                 A whimper left your lips as he curled his fingers again, his speed increasing considerably.

               “Couldn’t wait I see,” at that, your eyes opened finding Minho on your right, looking at you and Seonghwa with a sly smile and raised eyebrows, your right hand quick to hold Seonghwa’s forearm, but Minho’s hand were quicker holding your wrist as Seonghwa worked his fingers inside and out of you, his left hand leaving your waist making you lose your balance, as Minho was quick to stand in between you and the glass of the pool, left hand still holding your right wrist as the right held your waist, “can’t say I would have waited if I was in Hwa’s place.”

                 Seonghwa’s left fingers quickly found your swollen clit and started to rub circle figures with random pressure points as his fingers nimbly went in and out of your core, your left hand finding his left forearm but Minho was quick to take it and hold both wrists in front of you with his left hand while the right held your waist in place. You could feel the pressure of his fingers, knowing they would probably leave a mark, but you didn’t care, specially after you moved your hip up to feel Seonghwa’s bulge again while also trying to release the pressure he was doing on your clit, receiving a raise of eyebrows from Minho as you felt his fingers deeply on your waist before finding your hip and putting back into place, seeing as you bit your lip trying to repress a moan.

                 “You were right, she’s a brat.”

                 “So, I’ve gathered,” Minho answered, as his eyes wandered across your face, at how you would close your eyes and bite your lip, but both noticed when your body started to shake, a small exchange happened and Seonghwa’s fingers left your core, but his left still circling your clit slowly, as you whined in frustration of the stolen orgasm, “what is it? You’ve always wanted our attention, now you have it,” Minho took a step closer, Seonghwa’s fingers lazily playing with your clit as you felt yourself clench at nothing but the pool water, your wrists hurting from the hold Minho had on them. “You think you can handle our attention, pretty?”

                 “I thought I’ve always had it, what you talking about?”

                 Your voice cracked a little as Hwa’s fingers pressed a bit harder at your clit, but you didn’t miss the spark in Minho’s eyes, not holding back the smirk that showed, quickly vanishing as you felt Seonghwa’s fingers leaving your clit and covering everything back with your bottom part.

                 “Oh don’t worry, this is just the start,” Seonghwa quickly held your hips in place, pulling it up a little so you can clearly feel the outline of his cock against your ass as Minho got closer, lips mere centimeters away from your own, but you noticed how he held your hands as you felt the shorts he was wearing touch your fingers, before he pulled your hands lower and you extended your fingers, feeling the outline of his cock, he released a bit of the pressure on your wrists as you eagerly touched his covered cock. “We are gonna have so much fun with you tonight.”

                It wasn’t like no one knew about the sexual tension between the three of you. Hell, everyone had a bet on who would break first, who would be the one you’d choose, if the three of you would become a throuple, when it would happen, if you would be with one while the other watched… In all honesty, the three of you have heard all of them and would be lying to not admit that all those options had never crossed either of your minds, yet, here you were, entering the room you knew it would be for the two of them, their colognes entering your nostrils and clouding your judgement more than the alcohol in your system.

                The feeling of their hands on your skin, of Seonghwa’s fingers inside of you, the denial you received, the thought that finally you would be able to have what you were craving, by not one but both… That was exhilarating. The warmth that went through your core at the thought of both of them, of feeling Seonghwa’s fingers, to have Minho hold you down even if that left marks on your body, just the thought of having them close.

                “Daydreaming pretty?”

                As the door closes behind Seonghwa, you find yourself mere centimeters away from Minho, noticing how he has one shot glass on each hand. The lock of the door is heard as you also noticed Seonghwa with a bottle of tequila and another shot glass of his own in hand. Both with a sly smile and primal look, the type of look a predator would look at its prey, making a shiver run down your spine as both caged you, their little prey for the night.

                “Not so talkative now, are we?” Minho purred as his right arm snatched your waist making your lower half find his, the outline of his cock still could be felt, even more with the soaked in shorts. “All talk and no fun?”

                You felt as his nails dig into the skin of your waist, Seonghwa quickly behind you, making you feel his own clothed cock against your ass.

                “I thought you had a smart mouth from all the things you said at the pool,” his head quickly lowering into your neck as you felt his lips lingering on your sweet spot, you could feel both getting harder of the situation, “thought I would have to find a way to shut you up.”

                “It’s not like you guys gave me anything to talk about,” the smirk made them raise their eyebrows before a quick exchange and you feel the loss of Seonghwa’s warm while Minho’s face became closer to yours, you could feel his lips feather like against yours. “Guess someone else is all talk and no fun, right?”

                At that Minho’s eyes focused on yours and you waited for the crash, for his lips to be on yours, but instead, the smirk reappeared on his lips as you heard the clack of the glasses as Minho’s hand went for the back of your neck meeting your hair and pulling it down making your neck all open for him to mark it as he gladly started kissing every little part of it, hearing as you moaned when he bit into it, allowing you to feel the smirk on his lips.

                His hands roamed all over your body, but always pressing you against him, so no part of your front was too far away. Your hands were quick on his shoulders and hair, pulling it slightly whenever he bit down your neck, but his hands never touched where you wanted them most, until you pulled his hair stronger this time, getting a small groan out of him, bringing a small smile to your lips before you went in for a kiss, getting his cheek in response.

                “You think it’s that easy?” He laughed leaving you completely, joining Seonghwa on the bed. Although the room had two single beds, as you saw when you entered, at some point they were connected creating one big bed, as each seated on one, the tequila right in between the sheets, each with a glass in hand. “Prove it you deserve it.”

                “You say that as if you weren’t just as crazy to have my lips on you.”

                Your giggle made their expression change and so you remembered some of the comments your friends had made, the small fame both had around campus and you felt another shiver down your spine, but you wouldn’t back down. If you had to work for it, so had they.

                “Oh pretty, we will have your lips on us,” Seonghwa’s voice was husky as he drank up the tequila, barely a reaction on his face from the alcohol, “preferably with them wrapped around our cocks as you choke on them,” you pretended that phrase didn’t make a pool to form at the space in between your legs, trying your best not to brush your thighs together, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. “C’mere pretty, have a taste.”

                You were quick on your feet and ignored how both men smirked at your reaction, but instead of heading for one of them, you grabbed the bottle, pouring some of the liquid in each of the three glasses, but instead of handing to them, you put each glass on their legs, which they agreed to allow it. You quickly brough your glass to your lips, the liquid burning on your throat as you turned to Minho, your knees finding the ground, you in between them.

                As your hands roamed around Minho’s thighs you held eye contact as your mouth got closer to his crotch and, even though he looked unfazed, you could feel the twitch of his thighs under your palms as your mouth took the hem of the cup, finally breaking eye contact as you took the cup, your head fell back and the liquid quickly entered your throat as one of your hands took the glass from between your lips, putting it on top of Minho’s crotch, the tent even more visible after your little act.               

                Seonghwa was just observing, waiting for his turn. His hungry eyes landing on your chest, and for a second you thought about taking the top of the swimwear off, but not yet. Yours knees moved closer to the man still waiting with his shot glass in between his legs, but this time your hands wandered a little bit closer to the man’s crotch, the glass a little closer than where you remembered putting it in, bringing a sly smile to your lips as you moved your head forwards, your nose touching the outline of his cock that twitched at the small contact, making you giggle before taking the glass and repeating the same thing you did to Minho, only this time, part of the tequila fell from your lips as you took the cup from your lips.

                Before you could react, Seonghwa’s right hand grabbed your jaw, pulling you to him making you lose balance and your hands land on his thigh. His eyes were dark and hungry and you knew what awaited you, you wanted whatever they would give you. The smile that creeped your lips making Seonghwa annoyed enough for a scoff to leave his lips as he pulled you closer, your breathings mixing, but none averted the eye contact.

                “Don’t play games when you can’t win them,” you felt Minho’s breathe on your ear, his fingers tracing every part of your body as Seonghwa held you in place, “I believe you’ve heard stories,” your body answered for you as you felt Minho’s fingers trace the outline of the swimwear on your ass, going down until it make a light caress on you clothed core, the whimper that left your lips bringing a smile to the other two. “And yet, here you are begging us to fill you up, to treat you like the whore that you are,” he forced one of the pads of his fingers in your core and the other found your clit, making you clench your thighs, trapping his hand, “ah, you like when we call you a whore? A slut? Or at the thought of you being shared by the both of us?”

                His finger on your clit makes small torturous movements making you move your hips and your nails to dig into Seonghwa’s thigh, a chuckled left their lips at your body’s response.

                “Talk slut.”

                The pressure of Seonghwa’s fingers on your jaw made you try to jerk away, only for his other hand to meet the back of your neck holding you in place. Minho worked his legs to meet between yours and force them open so his hand would be free to play with you.

                “Yes,” you choked, “yes please, jus-just please touch me,” you cried as you felt Minho’s fingers nimbly pull you bottom to the side and play with your folds, “God please, just fuck me.”

                At that, Minho entered two fingers at your soaking cunt, making you gasp as Seonghwa took the opportunity to put two fingers of his left hand inside your mouth, his right fingers still holding your jaw open as his face got closer to yours, hot breath mixing as you felt the familiar warmth at the pit of your stomach as Minho’s finger skillfully played with your cunt.

                “So wet already, and all for us?” The mockery on Minho’s voice made you moan against Seonghwa’s fingers, a chuckled left Seonghwa as his fingers left your mouth, his right thumb caressing your bottom lip as you felt Minho curl his fingers inside of you. “How about we put that mouth use?” You moan loudly as his moved his fingers inside of you, but at your lack of response, a hard slap was felt on your left ass cheek, making you jolt forward, left hand on Seonghwa’s crotch. “Speak when spoken to slut.”

                “Then stop moving your fingers like that and I might,” as soon as those words left your mouth regret filled you up as his fingers left your core making you clench at nothing and a hard slap was felt on your right cheek before Seonghwa’s hand found your neck, tightening just enough to make you gasp for air. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I promise.”

                “Such a lying whore,” Seonghwa was now mere centimeters away from your face, “guess I should shut you up this time, no?” Minho’s hands griped your waist pulling it slightly back making your torso lower itself, a harsh slap at the same spot on your ass made you whimper as your eyes were still fixed on Seonghwa whose hand was palming himself through the shorts. “All I wanna hear is you gag around my cock, you hear?”

                “Words, slut,” another slap and you jolted forward, lips touching Seonghwa’s but he made no effort to move closer, “sudden out of words?”

                “You’d much like to hear me moan in your ear, wouldn’t you?”

                Another hard slap and you whimpered, feeling your legs tremble.

                “I think you are a little too dressed up for this, don’t you think Minho?” Seonghwa’s fingers played with the upper part of the swimwear, fingers gracefully moving on the edge of the cloth before fixing on your hardened nipple under the fabric, pitching it painfully as he held your neck, forcing you to eye him as you felt Minho taking your bottoms off, a muffled moan escaping his lips as he saw your glistering cunt. “Bottoms down, now upper part off.”

                Seonghwa’s hands promptly took your upper part off, briefly letting go of your neck as Minho skillfully teased your wet folds open with his fingers, laughing as you pushed your body back trying to make his fingers get inside before a hard slap meet your ass before you feel him spread your legs wider, giving him all the access he needed. His fingers lazily going around your folds, teasing your entrance as you turned your head finding his hungry eyes already on you, drunk on your reactions.

                “Time to put that mouth to use slut, try not to enjoy yourself too much.”

                You felt his hot breath against your cunt and whimpered closing your eyes, anticipating the contact, but Seonghwa pulled your face back to him, and you met with his hard, red, leaking cock in front of you, making your mouth water. His left hand on his shaft as his right tangled on your hair pulling you towards his dick.

                “Time for your first meal, slut.”

                You didn’t need to be told twice as your hand went to the base of his cock the same moment Minho’s lips found your pussy making you moan against the tip of Seonghwa’s cock. His hand on your hair pulling you to his cock, as the tip met with your cheek and you took the message as Minho’s tongue ravish on your juice, you kissed the tip of Hwa’s cock, squeezing the base just a little before twirling your tongue around the top, but he forced your head down his shaft making your hand go for his hip as you gag trying to breath, feeling him twitching inside your mouth.

                As Hwa pulled your head back, Minho’s face left your cunt, a hard slap on your ass before three fingers entered your dripping cunt and you closed your eyes before feeling a sting on your cheek before a Seonghwa make small caresses on your side, pushing your head back to his cock as your right hand skillfully started to stroke his length as his left fingers entered your mouth.

                “That’s it, such a dirty slut, you love having your holes filled, don’t you?” The moan that left your mouth was answer enough as you felt Minho’s other hand reach your clit as the same three fingers kept going in and out, his mouth finding your third hole, kitty licks being left there as you tried to say something, making Seonghwa’s fingers leave your mouth. “Oh, you have something to say?”

                “I want your cock, let me have your cock.”

                “Beg for it.”

                “I’m better at showing, let me show you,” your hand squeezed his length before your thumb go over the tip, taking pre cum as more lubricant, making your movements faster, “let me make you feel good sir, let me prove it with my mouth.”

                “Keep talking like that and you’ll get a reward,” his thumb went for your parted lips as you wrapped it around it, “such a dirty slut.”

                Minho left your ass at peace as he speed his fingers and circle movements around your clit make you whimper before taking Seonghwa’s cock on your lips one last time, taking him full, only stopping as you felt his tip on the back of your throat, howling your cheeks as you moved your head up and down his shaft, his fingers tangling around your hair, dictating the speed as you tried your hard not to moan as you felt Minho’s fingers curling inside of you.

                The shaking of your legs being enough to tell him you were close and you prayed for them to allow you to come this time as Seonghwa started to also jolt his hips up, hitting the back of your throat harder, your nails digging into his thighs but he didn’t care and in all honesty, neither did you.

                “Such a cock drunk whore you are,” you felt Minho’s teeth sink into your ass as his fingers curled heavenly inside of you. “Clenching so much around my fingers, can’t wait to use this hole for my cock.”

                You clenched at his words, feeling your legs tremble harder and the built up increasing.

                “That’s it, take it like the fucking slut you are, take my cock down your throat.”

                Too much, it was too much, so damn good.

                Until Minho’s warmth left you, at the same second you were about to cum, and you cried around Seonghwa’s cock that fucked your face mercilessly, ignoring how hard your nails digged into his thigh, but then you were free, your head was lifted by the hair, your eyes meeting Seonghwa’s gaze, he hadn’t cum yet, but he was close, you knew it, so you took his cock in your hands and started to stroke him again, seeing as his grip tighten on your hair.

                “Get her on the bed,” fingers digged into your sides as your lower body was lifted by Minho, you could feel his three wet fingers on your skin, whishing they were back into you, curling inside, “I wanna fuck her mouth.”

                As Seonghwa’s fingers left your hair, Minho tossed your body on the bed, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get there on your own, your legs still weak for the second denied orgasm.

                “I’ll take her cunt then,” Hwa got on the bed pulling your lower body closer to the edge as he got on his knees, “enjoy her mouth, is just as heavenly as we thought it would be.”

                “Fuck-” you said breathlessly as you realized that they had jerked off at the thought of you, “You two are just as perverted as I thought you’d be.”

                “Don’t pretend you are an innocent angel and never touched yourself at the thought of us,” Minho said cynically, the tent on his shorts clearly an inconvenient, even if he looked unbothered, yet all you wanted was to see his cock, “or are you gonna pretend you never called us out while your fingers were deep inside of you?” Seonghwa pulled your hips lower, spreading you open, having a clear view of your swollen clit and soaking core. “You may look like an angel, but you were definitely a work of the devil.”

                You clenched at nothing at those words, hearing Seonghwa curse under his breath looking at you all stretched and open in front of him, but all you could focus was the tent in Minho’s shorts. You liked your lips receiving a scoff, Hwa’s breathe still close to your core, but never close enough making you jolt your hip slightly, receiving a slap on your swollen cunt, making you scream as your eyes finally met Seonghwa’s hungry ones, his fingers lazily caressing the swollen organ, teasing you all over again.

                “You can’t stop looking at Minho, have something to say?”

                “I just-” another slap on your clit, making your hips jolt and you close as your eyes as his fingers lazily play with your folds now, teasing the entrance making you roll your eyes, “fuck, please.”

                “Please what slut?” Minho got closer to the bed, both hands on his pocket and you could see the movement there, he was stroking himself through the shorts, your mind wandering to how red and leaking his dick was, making you wet your lips as your eyes focused on his shorts. “What’s so interesting in my shorts, hun?”

                “I was just wondering, because my toys are pretty big, maybe even bigger than you,” a hard slap on your cunt made you cry loudly pulling the sheets with your hand, “if you are gonna do something than fucking do- AAAH FUCK!”

                Two of Seonghwa’s fingers were soon inside of you as his tongue finally found your clit, kitty licks teasing you as he curled his fingers inside as you tried to close you legs around his head, finding two strong hands on both your thighs forcing them open, bringing them closer to your chest. Minho’s fingers sank into your skin and you found his dark look, you had pissed him off you knew that, but you didn’t care, as long as you could have his dick you didn’t care.

                “Keep them open, whores like you know how to do that,” with a slap on both legs he released them, eyes fixed on you as your hands went to hold them open as Seonghwa started to suck on your clit, fingers nimbly in and out of your cunt making you see stars as the previous stimulation Minho made you through. You heard the bed creak, but you couldn’t open your eyes, only doing so once you felt something wet on your cheeks, meeting with Minho’s leaking cock inviting you to take it. “Now let’s keep that fucking mouth shut and suck it dry, and don’t you move your hands from your legs.”

                You felt yourself clench against Seonghwa’s fingers, feeling his groan reverberate from your core up. You parted your lips leaving a moan mixed with a curse before looking back at Minho, his hand at the base of his angry leaking cock, God you could cum right there as you kissed the tip of his dick feeling the bittersweet taste on your mouth. Kitty licks were placed at the tip of his cock, small kisses in the mix as you saw how his dick twitched slightly from time to time as you teased him, only looking away as you felt Seonghwa back away from your cunt, finding his glistering lips and nose as his three fingers went to his mouth.

                “Such a sweet cunt for such a filthy whore.”

                Before you could answer, Minho’s hand held your head turning you to his cock.

                “Now open.”

                And so you did as he said feeling his hands around your head as his hips started to move slowly ahead, his cock filling your mouth. As his tip hit the back of your throat, Sengohwa’s lips were back at your cunt, his tongue heavenly going in and out of you, his nose hitting perfectly your clit as his arms held you in place as he tongue fucked you. Minho’s dick furiously getting in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat every time, making you gag as you dig your nails into your legs that were already shaking.

                You felt your throat and eyes burn and you knew you tear would soon fall, specially if they denied you another orgasm. You heard Minho grunt as his trusts became sloppy, you could tell he was close. The hum that Seonghwa would occasionally drop also said he was painfully hard as he stuffed his head against your cunt, nose making a sweet pressure on your clit as you felt his tongue inside you, thanking heavens for giving this man such an incredible and versatile tongue that could reach places you never thought it could.

                Minho quickly let go of your face at the same time Seonghwa took his face from your cunt, denying for a third time your orgasm making you cry and let your legs fall, clenching around nothing as you saw Minho stroke his dick lazily and breathing heavy, as you waited for his cum, but it didn’t come, instead you were found with a cocky smirk as he controlled himself exchanging quick looks with Seonghwa who was now standing, cock red, leaking, begging for a release.

                Your legs were failing you and they noticed as they caged you again against the mattress. Seonghwa predatorily hovering above you as Minho went behind you, feeling his hard wet cock against your back, his legs going under your arms as his hands roamed around your waist, slowly going up to meet your breasts, nipples hard and sensitive as his hands squeezed it harshly making you cry again, your head resting on his shoulder as Seonghwa stayed between your wimbling legs which he put on tops of his as he took your right breast in his mouth as your other one was receiving Minho’s left hand attention.

                His right hand went to your throat squeezing just a little as he buried his face on your neck leaving open mouth kisses all over it, small bites here and there. Seonghwa’s right hand went back to your core making you move your hips for more contact, crying at how sensitive you were already but in search of your release nonetheless. You heard both chuckle at how eager you were. Minho’s left hand leaving your breast to hold your waist as Seonghwa started to give your left breast attention while his left hand took your right breast in, pinching your nipple from time to time.

                “Should we mark our little whore?”

                You cried at the comment and at Seonghwa’s fingers curling inside you, Minho’s teeth giving small bites against your skin, helping make your body shivers at the already three denied orgasms, the fourth already building it up.

                “Let’s make sure everyone knows to whom this whore belongs to.”

                At Seonghwa’s response, both focused on sucking and biting at your skin, Minho’s fingers making slight pressure at your neck as Seonghwa’s fingers worked in and out of your core, his palm pressing occasionally on your clit making you jolt your hips in desperate search for your released. You didn’t hold back any sound that came out of your mouth, their names slipping it along with a few cuss words, your body shaking uncontrollably as they try to hold you down, you could feel tears falling as they both stopped.

                “Are you fucking kidding me?”

                You cried as your body shook, hot and desperate. Minho took your face to his, cleaning some of your tears before pulling you to a hungry sloppy kiss, his tongue entering your mouth with desperation, his fingers pressing against your skin. Minho’s lips were just like you imagined, you could kiss him for ours, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands explored your body holding you in place as he pulled away from you before turning your head to Seonghwa who held your face to him, his lips quick to crash against yours, tongue quickly exploring your mouth as you felt Minho step away from you, as his hands held your waist up, making you stop kissing Seonghwa for a second.

                “Time for your reward slut,” he laid on his back and you quickly straddled him, thankful for Minho’s strong hands helping to keep you up, Seonghwa observing everything with his hand slowly stroking his dick, “it’s time to bounce.”

                Your hand was quick to find his hard angry cock, lining it up with your throbbing entrance. You torturously and slowly sank down his shaft, feeling his every inch coming inside of you, filling you up so good that you couldn’t help but moan his name as he was finally full inside of you.

                “Thank fucking God,” the desperation in your voice made both laugh at you, but you honestly didn’t care anymore, as you ignored your wimbling legs as you started to bounce up and down in Minho’s length, his fingers sinking and helping you bounce on his cock, you knew you’d have marks the day after. “Hwa, please.”

                Your hands quickly found his cock as you took it in squeezing a little before use the precum to help the movement, his hands grabbing your face and moaning against your lips as you felt Minho hold you up and start to thrust into you as Seonghwa stuck his tongue inside your open moaning mouth as you stroke him shakingly before he groan against your mouth and start giving kisses against your neck as Minho kept burying himself inside of you.

                “So fucking beautiful my pretty little whore,” he bit your neck as you let out a small screaming moan as Minho kept hitting your cervix at every trust. “You gonna cum on Minho’s cock, you gonna let him fill you up nice and well?”

                “Yes, fuck, yes ple-please!”

                “Fuck you clenching so much around me,” Minho groaned and you felt his nails dig into your flesh deliciously as you squeezed Hwa’s cock, “Imma fill you up so good, you gonna keep my cum inside you, you got it?”

                “Yes, yes sir, please fill me up, jes-fuck!” Your whole body shook uncontrollably as you felt Minho let you down on him, his whole length inside you and you whimpered desperately rocking your hips back and forth trying to finally get your release. “Please let me cum, please, I’ll do anything, please fuck, please!”

                Minho slapped your ass holding your hips down as Seonghwa slapped your face taking your hands away from him, ignoring his aching cock as he cleaned some of the tears that dripped down your face, his tongue licking them away and you clenched around Minho feeling his fingers sink into your skin.

                “Minho, we good?”

                The groan made both you and Seonghwa chuckle as you felt his hands push you up, making you irritably accept that, feeling empty as Minho’s dick slide off you, sitting straight caressing your waist slightly.

                “Think you can handle the both of us? Be a good little slut for us?”

                Although Minho’s words where filthy and hit your core directly, the slight caress on your waist catching a little off guard, yet you caught yourself nodding eagerly.

                “Words slut,” Seonghwa said with his thumb caressing your red face still from the slap he gave you, “we need to hear you say you want us to stuff you up and fuck you dumb like we know you want and like.”

                “Hwa can take your cunt and I take your ass,” Minho’s teeth bit your shoulder making you shiver while Seonghwa’s hand found your nipple, playing with it, “and after he fill you up, I’ll take your cunt again and shove it right back into and mix it up with my own and you’ll keep both our cums inside of you.”

                “Yes sir, I will.”

                “Such a good whore for us, I think she deserves a reward no Minho?”

                “You ready to cum, pretty little whore?”

                “Yes, please.”

                Swiftly, Seonghwa held your waist pulling you in as he laid back on the other bed, his feet founding the floor as you straddled him, quickly taking your hand and finding his hard cock and placing it at your entrance as you sank down. He was longer than Minho, but thinner, making it easier to slide into your aching core, you bounced a few times before he held you down, pulling you in against his chest, to make it easier for Minho to slide into your ass.

                The tip of his cock at the rim of your ass and you close your eyes in anticipation. You felt the stretch and bit down your lip, but Seonghwa made you eye him and spread your lips open, a silent demand for you to not hold back, so you hid your face on the crock of his neck as you felt Minho stretch you out slowly and deliciously painfully as you felt both their cocks fill you up entirely.

                “That’s a good whore, such a good whore taking both our cock on your holes,” the tips of Minho’s fingers caressing your back before landing on your ass with a hard slap making you jolt and feel both cocks move inside you, letting a moan escape against Seonghwa’s skin, “gonna fill you up so good you won’t be able to walk.”

                Minho was the first to move as you sank your teeth into Seonghwa skin, hearing his groan in your ear, but as soon as your body relaxed, both boys held your body as they started to move in different rhythms. As Minho’s cock was coming out, Seonghwa’s was coming in, you were never fully filled and never fully empty.

                Seonghwa’s hands were quick to find your ass cheeks spreading them as both thrusted relentlessly into you making you see stars and become a moaning and shaking mess. Minho pulled you up from your shoulders, one hand around your waist holding you up as the other played with your breast, allowing Seonghwa’s fingers to find your clit as the other squeezed your ass cheek oh so painfully.

                The overstimulation was sending you skyrocket to the edge of the universe. Incoherent speech left your lips as both kept thrusting deep into you. Your moans started to become little screams as you felt your whole but heat up and tremble under their hands, you cried out trying to get away as the overstimulation became too much.

                “Stay put slut, we gonna fill you up good and you gonna take like the pretty little whore you are.”

                “You squeezing me so fucking good, guess you are indeed a whore, taking both cocks so well, begging to be filled up.”

                “Gonna cum slut? Gonna cum on Hwa’s cock?”

                “Can you even take us both? You think you can handle Minho after I fill you up, hun?”

                “Yes, yes I can, please sir, please fill me up, please make me cum, I promise I can take both cocks, please.”

                You cried out clenching around them as you screamed one last time before feeling the so denied wave of pleasure rush through your body, crying even harder as they didn’t stop, searching for their own release. You were now their personal fuck toy, and you weren’t even mad at that.

                “Fuck she’s clenching so much!”

                “Take our cum slut, take it all.”

                Minho took his dick away from your ass and released your body that was quickly embraced by Sengohwa who thrusted harder into you, helping build up another orgasm on the way as you cried against his neck.

                “Fuck just like that, take my cock you filthy slut.”

                “Hwa plea-please…OH FUCK!”

                You felt his seed spill inside of you the same moment your second orgasm hit, but not even a second later and Minho pulled you out of Seonghwa, turning you on the back, the mattress sinking in between your legs and you feel the small stretch of Minho’s girth in your gummy walls and moaned in pleasure again, your hands quickly finding his forearm that held your waist down.

                “Time to fill you up for good.”

                “Yes please, please Min, fuck me please, fill me up.”

                “Such a cum and cock slut,” he finally thrusted into your swollen cum dripping cunt, his movements fast as his free hand went to slap your tits as he used the one on your waist for balance. “Fuck you take me so good, such a good whore with such a nice pussy.”

                “Yes, just for you, just for you and Hwa, fuck-fuck- FUCK!”

                You cried as you sensed fingers playing with your clit and you knew it was Hwa as Minho’s hand had not left your waist and were still playing with your tits.

                “Just like that, cum for me, I know you can do it again, cum on my fucking cock you filthy little whore.”

                His movements became sloppy, and you knew he wouldn’t last long and, the way they were both working you up, you knew you wouldn’t either. Your toes curled as Minho’s fingers twisted your nipple while Hwa’s pinched your clit and you cried out loud as you felt Minho thrust you one last time before collapsing on top of you, barely able to hold his own body weight, although you couldn’t complain as it has kind of comforting after everything.

                Your eyes were shut, you could hear movement around the room, Minho’s body lifting it up just enough to look at your face. His free hand was quick to take your hair away from your face, both breathings were heavy, neither could hold a small chuckle at the situation you were in.

                “You okay?” You nodded and he smiled leaving a small kiss on your lips before pulling it out, receiving a complain from you. “I’m sorry pretty, were we too hard on you?”

                He laid on your side, his fingers feather like against your skin, lingering a little longer on the more visible marks bringing a smile to your lips.

                “I’m okay.”

                “I’ll be gentle, promise,” Seonghwa’s voice was concerned, they both were as they realized the state you were in. “We were too rough with you, pretty, I’m sorry.”

                “I’m not,” you said quickly using your elbows to lift your upper body, hissing as you felt the cloth Seonghwa was using to clean you up against your sored lower body, making him be even more careful, “I had fun, you guys don’t need to be sorry for anything.”

                “Well, you did beg us a few times,” Minho chuckled and you rolled your eyes noticing how he started to move his body upwards, Seonghwa handing him the cloth before coming up on your other side of the bed, “but we should have been less… eager with you.”

                “That’s a word I could use,” you laughed as you felt Seonghwa touch your arms, indicating for you to move up with them. “I didn’t wanna be the one to ask, but -”

                “This is something we’ve been talking for a while,” Seonghwa cut you off as your back found the wall, both boys eyes on you and you suddenly felt aware of yourself, which didn’t go unnoticed by them as Seonghwa continued talking and Minho pulled some of the covers up on your body, “we can’t deny we are attracted to you, we also know you are to us, we don’t mind sharing you if you take us.”

                You stopped for a moment observing both of them, searching for any type of bad reaction to the idea of you being shared by them in any way.

                “So, what does that makes us?”

                “Whatever you want it to be, pretty,” Minho’s hand found yours playing lightly with them, intertwining your fingers as Seonghwa’s went to your face and neck, taking in your features. “So, will you take us?”

                Your only answer was kissing them. Minho first, Seonghwa second. It was a different kiss this time, it wasn’t rushed, it was light, careful, tender. Both kept observing you, expecting anything, searching for any type of rejection just how you were looking for it a while ago.

                “Do you guys mind if we sleep for now?”

                You sigh and they chuckled laying beside you. Minho was quick to turn on his back as you wrapped your legs around his, resting your head on his shoulder, your hand quickly found Seonghwa, pulling him close as you made him hug you by the waist. It felt right, whatever you three were to become.

                Sleep found you fast as Minho’s left hand made small circles on your knee around his hip and Seonghwa caressed your hand and left small kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. A smile plastered on your face.

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A Love Not Recalled 2 l.mh

After an argument that should have never happened, Minho is left regretful, not realizing he’d need a lot more than apologies to fix the pain

Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Since this was heavily requested (thank you all for enjoying the original part) I have decided to make a part 2!! Thank you all for reading! ❤️

-

The door shut behind him with a quiet click, but the sound felt deafening in the sterile silence of the hospital.

Lee Know’s hands trembled at his sides, his legs heavy as if they were filled with lead. His heartbeat was erratic, his breath shallow, chest rising and falling as though he had run miles just to get here.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the way you looked at him, or for the way you didn’t look at him.

Your eyes—once so full of warmth, of recognition, of love—held none of it. Just distant confusion, like he was a stranger, someone who didn’t belong there.

The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating, unbearable, and now, as he stepped out of the hospital room, it felt like the walls were closing in, the air in the hallway thick and stifling. He could still hear your voice, that soft, uncertain apology.

“I don’t remember you.”

The words echoed, over and over, clawing at his insides, hollowing him out.

He barely noticed Chan and a few of the others sitting in the waiting room down the hall, their hushed voices coming to a stop the moment they saw him.

Minho stopped in his tracks. His entire body felt numb, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Chan was the first to stand. “Minho…” said man didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond.

His throat was tight, his mind spiraling into places he didn’t want it to go. His nails dug into his palms as he swallowed back the lump forming in his throat.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchanged a glance from where they sat, both looking unsure of what to say. The room was too quiet, too heavy, the tension suffocating.

Chan took a step closer. “Minho, talk to me.”

Minho opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stared at Chan, at the way concern etched into his features, at the way their friends sat with quiet unease, waiting for him to say something.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t form a single sentence.

What was he supposed to say? That he had walked into that hospital room expecting to make things right? He had spent the past two days convincing himself that you were just being stubborn—only to find out that you didn’t even know who he was anymore?

That the woman he loved, the woman he had pushed away, had forgotten him completely?

His breath hitched. His fingers twitched at his sides. Chan’s gaze softened. “Minho…”

That was all it took.

Minho’s body gave out, his knees buckling as he staggered back against the wall. He barely registered Chan stepping forward, catching his arm, steadying him. His head fell forward, his shoulders shaking as a ragged breath tore from his lips.

His chest ached, raw and open, as he sucked in another breath—only for it to come out in a harsh, broken sob.

“She doesn’t remember me,” he choked out, barely recognizing his own voice. “She doesn’t… she doesn’t know who I am.”

Chan’s grip on him tightened. “Minho—”

“I let her leave.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his vision blurring as he looked down at his trembling hands. “I let her walk out. I didn’t call. I didn’t—” His breath caught again, a wave of nausea washing over him. “I thought she was just mad, I thought she’d come back, I—”

Another sob wracked through his chest.

Hyunjin stood from his seat, his expression unreadable. “Minho—”

“I did this,” he whispered, his voice strangled. “She was upset. She left because of me. If I hadn’t—”

His knees threatened to buckle again. The guilt was crushing, unbearable, suffocating.

‘Maybe you’re not enough.’

The words he had thrown at you that night, so carelessly, so cruelly, came rushing back.

And now? Now, he wasn’t enough. Even if he stood right in front of you, you would never look at him the same way again.

A sharp, broken sound escaped him, his hands gripping his hair as his chest caved in. Chan exhaled slowly before wrapping a firm arm around Lee Know’s shoulders, steadying him as he finally, completely shattered.

And in that cold, sterile hallway, for the first time in years—

He cried.

-

The hallway was quiet again.

Almost an hour had passed and the storm inside him hadn’t fully calmed—but it had dulled, settled into a low, aching throb in his chest that never quite stopped. He sat alone now in the hospital’s waiting area, staring blankly at the floor, his hands clasped together tightly, as if holding himself together was the only thing keeping him from falling apart again.

Chan had stepped away, giving him space. The others had quietly left one by one, their concerned glances lingering as they faded down the corridor. No one said it, but they all knew—

He had broken something that couldn’t be fixed. Yet, here he was. Still hoping. Still hurting.

He came back with trembling hands and a small paper bag crinkling softly at his side. Inside was your favorite drink from the café near your apartment—a stupidly sweet latte with whipped cream and cinnamon. You always made fun of him for remembering how specific your order was, and he used to pretend to be annoyed by it.

Now he clung to that memory like it was the last thread tethering him to you.

-

A day later, Minho stood outside your hospital room door for a moment, silently composing himself, repeating in his head: Don’t cry. Not again. Don’t scare her.

When he walked in, you were sitting upright, flipping idly through a magazine someone had left on your bedside table. Your eyes met his. And for a moment—just a fraction of a second—his heart dared to hope.

But then came the same look of confusion. Kind. Polite, but distant.

“Hi,” you said with a small, uncertain smile. “You’re Minho, right?” He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat thick and unrelenting, and nodded slowly, every step he took into the room feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. His hands shook slightly as he held out a paper cup, fingers tightening instinctively around it like it was the only thing grounding him.

His voice came out softer than he intended—tender, raw, like something fragile wrapped in layers of guilt. “Yeah… Um… I thought you might want this.”

He placed the cup carefully on the tray beside your bed, not trusting himself to hand it to you directly. He couldn’t look at you as he said it. Not when you were gazing up at him like he was just another visitor. A stranger.

“It’s from that café on the corner near your apartment. You used to go there every Thursday morning before work. You’d always get this, even though you complained every time about how overpriced it was.”

A faint smile touched his lips—bittersweet and barely there. “But you liked how they did the whipped cream. Said it made the whole day better.” He finally looked up, his eyes searching yours. For a flicker of recognition. A spark. A twitch of memory.

But there was nothing. Just polite surprise. You blinked, accepting the cup with a small, hesitant smile. “That’s… really specific.”

He laughed under his breath, hollow and aching, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I guess I just remember the little things. You used to say it was the only thing keeping you alive during early mornings.”

A pause stretched between you, delicate and uncertain, filled only by the quiet beep of the heart monitor and the distant murmur of hospital staff beyond the door.

You looked down at the drink in your hands, fingers curling softly around the cup like it was something too delicate to hold too tightly. The whipped cream had begun to melt into the cinnamon, forming that messy swirl you always loved, but now you stared at it like it was someone else’s comfort.

Then you glanced up at him with a gentle, almost embarrassed smile. “That sounds like something I’d say.”

But there was no warmth behind your eyes. No flicker of memory, no spark of shared history. Only polite curiosity. Only the echo of what once was.

Minho’s chest tightened, the breath catching in his throat. He swallowed it down, forcing the grief to stay buried—for now—and eased into the chair beside your bed. The legs of the chair scraped softly against the floor, grounding him in the sterile silence of the room.

He sat with his hands clenched between his knees, knuckles white. He tried not to stare too long. Tried not to look at you like he was still in love with you. Like he still knew every inch of who you used to be.

His voice was quiet, steady, but it trembled just beneath the surface. “You, um… you liked to walk through the park near your building when it rained.” You tilted your head slightly, intrigued, listening.

“Said it helped clear your head. You liked how everything smelled different after the rain—the trees, the dirt, even the air. You’d always say it felt like the world got washed clean.” He paused, eyes misting. “You used to joke that rainy days were your reset button.”

You said nothing, but your gaze remained on him. Still no recognition. N warmth. Just a faint crease between your brows, like you were trying to imagine that version of yourself.

He pressed on, even though his voice was cracking at the edges. “And you always took your shoes off after. Said you hated the feeling of wet socks, but never remembered to bring an umbrella. I’d meet you at the edge of the park with a dry pair of shoes in a plastic bag. You’d act all surprised, even though I did it every time.”

He laughed, but it was hollow, fragile. “You thought I was sweet for it. I thought you were reckless.” Another pause. This one heavier.

You looked down at the cup again. You gave him a soft smile—a grateful smile—but it was the kind you gave someone kind on the bus. Someone thoughtful at a coffee shop. Not him.

Not your Minho. Not the boy you used to fall asleep beside. Not the one who memorized your routines, who kissed the top of your head when you were too tired to speak, who argued with you like the world was ending—and then held you like it never would.

Not anymore, but he didn’t say that. He just sat there. Quietly breaking, piece by piece.

You let out a soft laugh, the kind that was meant to ease tension, but it only tightened something deep in his chest. “That’s weirdly specific too.”

Minho smiled automatically, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It never did anymore. His face held the expression of someone trying to pretend the ground wasn’t crumbling beneath his feet.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. Trying to read him like a book written in a language you no longer spoke. “So… were we close?”

He inhaled sharply. Just a breath—but it cut like a blade down his spine. His smile faltered. A beat passed. Then another. His gaze dropped to the floor, then slowly lifted to meet yours again, eyes glassy with everything he couldn’t say.

His voice came out low, cracked, barely more than a whisper. “We were everything.”

And there it was. The truth, bare and bleeding in his voice. You blinked, caught off guard by the weight of it.

Your eyes dropped to the blanket resting over your lap, your fingers beginning to pick at the seam. You shifted slightly, like the words had made you uncomfortable. Like their meaning was too heavy for your unfamiliar heart to carry.

You didn’t know what to say, because how could you? How could you answer something that didn’t exist for you anymore?

He watched your expression shift—kind, distant, confused—and it shattered him all over again, and still, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

What was there left to say… when you didn’t even remember how much you loved him?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the steady beeping of the heart monitor beside you. “I want to remember. I do.” And you meant it. He could hear it in the way your voice trembled—soft, unsure, but sincere. The way your eyes searched his, as if there was something inside him you should know. Something you should feel, but there was nothing. No spark of recognition. No flicker of the love that used to live there.

Just empty space.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of every unspoken word. “It’s not your fault.”

And it wasn’t. God, it wasn’t.

It was his.

For every harsh word, every shut door, every night he chose silence over softness. Every time he let pride win instead of love.

A thick silence settled between you like fog—dense, cold, and impossible to ignore. The kind of silence that says more than either of you could bear to put into words.

Then, slowly, you looked back up at him, your fingers curling around the edges of the blanket. Your expression was fragile—carefully constructed calm sitting atop a sea of questions you didn’t know how to ask.

“My mom told me what happened,” you said, the words deliberate, hesitant. “That I got into an accident after… after a fight. She said you were upset too.”

Minho closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again, his jaw tightening as guilt washed over him like a wave. He nodded slowly, staring at the floor. “I was.” His voice was barely above a breath. “I didn’t mean to be. But I was.”

What he wanted to say was—‘I wasn’t just upset. I was cruel. I told you things I didn’t mean, just to make you hurt. And now… now you don’t even remember the sound of my voice when I wasn’t breaking you.’

He stayed quiet instead.

You hesitated then, visibly piecing things together in your mind like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of your hospital blanket, your knuckles pale.

“She also said…” You looked at him again, but there was hesitation in your voice now, and something unreadable in your eyes. “She said you were my boyfriend.”

His heart stopped. The word—boyfriend—felt foreign on your lips. As if it belonged to someone else. You said it like you were talking about a stranger. Like you were being told a story that didn’t belong to you, and he—he couldn’t speak. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. His throat burned, and his vision blurred at the edges.

He was. He is.

He wanted to scream yes, to beg you to remember how it felt to love him. To wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest when the world felt too loud. To laugh until you cried over stupid inside jokes. To whisper his name in the dark like it was your favorite secret.

Now? You only knew him as the man who brought your coffee and looked at you like you were made of glass.

So he just sat there. Silent.

You reached for the cup again, fingers curling around it like it gave you something to hold onto—something more solid than the weight of his gaze. You kept your eyes on the drink, unable to meet the way he was looking at you.

“I think…” You hesitated, your voice soft, as though you were afraid the truth would hurt him more than the accident ever could. “It might be best if you don’t come so often.”

The words struck him like a knife to the chest. Clean. Quiet. Devastating.

He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Just stared at you as your words settled like ash in the air.

You looked up at him gently, your expression full of kindness—too much kindness. It made it worse somehow. You were trying to protect him, but you were only burying the blade deeper.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you added quickly, carefully. “I swear I’m not. It’s just… right now, I don’t feel… safe.” The word twisted in his chest. Safe.

Not in a bad way, you were quick to explain, your tone softening. “Not like I’m scared of you or anything. You’ve been kind, and patient. I can feel that. But I don’t… know you.”

Minho blinked hard, trying to hold himself together. But each word, though gentle, chipped away at him, until the cracks were visible even in the way he sat—stiff, hollow, quiet.

“And if I keep trying to force something… something I don’t remember…” Your eyes flicked back down to the cup. “I think I might only push the memories further away.” He felt his lungs collapsing, his chest hollowing out with every syllable. You were right.

Every time he looked at you, he did so with the weight of everything you’d shared. Every laugh, every fight, every whispered ‘I love you’ in the middle of the night, bt to you, he was just a name someone gave you. Just a presence you couldn’t place, and it was hurting you.

“I understand,” he said finally, though the words scraped his throat on the way out, raw and torn. They tasted like ash. Like goodbye.

You looked up at him again and offered a small, sad smile—the kind people gave to mourners at funerals. The kind that said I’m sorry you lost something, even though you were the one holding the pieces.

“Maybe one day I’ll remember,” you said softly, and that hope—no matter how faint—should’ve comforted him.

It didn’t, because you didn’t say you will. You said maybe, and you meant it.

“But for now…” you whispered, voice trailing off like a breeze slipping under a door, “I need time to find myself first. Not the version people say I was. Just… me.” Minho realized, in that moment, that he wasn’t part of that version anymore. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

He stood slowly, quietly, afraid to make any sudden movements—like if he moved too fast, he’d wake up and find that none of this had ever been real, but it was.

It was.

And as he looked at you one last time—still sitting in that bed, bruised, blank, smiling like a stranger—he realized something that shattered what little was left of him. He had spent so long trying to get you to stay.

And now, the only thing he could do for you was… leave.

-

He made it to the hallway before the tears came again.

The door shut behind him with a soft click, but it echoed like a gunshot in his ears. Every step he took away from your room felt like betrayal—like he was abandoning you, when all he wanted was to stay. But your words were still ringing in his ears, delicate but firm, kind but absolute.

‘I think it might be best if you don’t come so often.’

So he walked. Slowly. Hollowly. The second his back hit the wall, all the air rushed from his lungs.

He slid down the cold surface like his body couldn’t carry the weight of his own grief anymore, limbs folding beneath him as he curled into himself right there on the hospital floor. He didn’t care who saw. Didn’t care who passed. Didn’t care if the nurses glanced at him with pity or confusion.

Nothing—absolutely nothing—could compare to the ache consuming him from the inside out.

Tears slipped silently down his face at first, hot and unrelenting. Then came the sharp, broken breaths, the ones that made his chest convulse, made his throat raw, made his heart scream.

‘She doesn’t remember me.’ The words played on repeat in his mind, circling like a cruel melody he couldn’t silence.

She doesn’t remember me.

Not the way he held you like you were fragile when you were sick. Not the late-night walks, the stolen kisses, the way he whispered your name like a prayer when you were asleep beside him. Not the fights, or the apologies or the love.

All of it—gone. Erased. Like it had never existed. His fingers curled into his sleeves, nails digging into the fabric, jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

And somewhere deep inside, through the overwhelming sorrow and guilt, a quiet voice emerged. A voice he tried to ignore. A voice he didn’t want to believe.

‘Maybe she shouldn’t remember.’

Because what would she even be remembering? The yelling? The silence? The way he pushed her away when she reached for him? The cold in his voice when all she wanted was his warmth?

Maybe it was better she didn’t remember the boy who broke her heart the night she crashed her car. Maybe it was better she didn’t remember the man who let his pride speak louder than his love.

‘Maybe she shouldn’t.’

That gut-wrenching, soul-destroying thought hurt more than anything he had ever felt. It meant that this wasn’t just the end of a relationship. It was the erasure of something sacred. Something he would remember every day for the rest of his life. While you, the love of his life, had already forgotten.

-

‘Maybe she shouldn’t’

That sentence carved itself into Lee Know’s mind like a wound that refused to close. It followed him home. It echoed in his apartment—your apartment—where your toothbrush still sat beside his, where your favorite hoodie still hung over the back of the couch, untouched since the day you left.

The silence was louder there than anywhere else, yet he still showed up. Not every day. Not like before. He came quietly. Carefully. On days when he knew you had therapy. On mornings when he figured you might want someone to sit with, even if you didn’t ask.

He didn’t always go in. Sometimes, he stood outside your hospital room, peering through the narrow glass window just to catch a glimpse of you reading, or napping, or laughing with a nurse. On the days he did walk through the door, he didn’t bring flowers or coffee anymore. Just himself. Just stories.

He told stories about you. About him. About the way you used to be—woven delicately into quiet, early morning visits where the air felt still and heavy, like the universe was holding its breath for something to click.

He never forced them. Never said, ‘Do you remember?’ because the answer had always been no. Instead, he spoke with a kind of reverence, as if recounting tales from another lifetime, a dream only he still remembered.

He told you about the time you made pancakes at midnight, and they turned out terrible—burnt on the outside, raw in the middle—but you still made him eat three. How he pretended they were good just to see you laugh.

He told you about the movie you used to rewatch every month, how you cried at the same part each time, even though you knew it was coming. How he used to tease you for it, only to tear up beside you when you weren’t looking.

He told you about your favorite spot in the city—the little bench near the river, tucked behind a bookshop—where you’d sit with him for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing. No noise, no expectations. Just breath and warmth and the comfort of someone who understood you down to your bones.

Sometimes you listened, your head tilted slightly, lips parted like you were waiting for something to awaken inside you.

Sometimes you asked questions.

“Did I really say that?”

“Was I always like that?”

“What did I love most?”

And each time, he answered with a smile, eyes flickering with the ghosts of the past. “Yes,” he’d say. Or, “Only you would say something like that.” And sometimes, “Me. I think… you loved me most.”

You wouldn’t respond to that one. Not with words, but sometimes—in those rare, fleeting moments—you would stare at him a little too long, like you were searching for something in his face. Something buried under the pain and patience.

And in those moments, his breath would catch. In those moments, you didn’t look at him like a stranger. You looked at him like something inside you almost remembered.

Like your soul was leaning toward his, out of instinct and some echo of you still lived inside your chest, banging on the walls, trying to remind you: him. it’s him though you never said it. Never once claimed to know him—

There were seconds, just seconds, where your eyes softened like they used to. Where the world bent in the way it had when it was just the two of you, tangled in quiet understanding.

For Minho, those moments—however fleeting—were enough to keep coming back.

Maybe your mind had forgotten him, but your heart hadn’t. Not completely. Nothing ever came, though. Not a spark, nor a memory, and still—he showed up.

⸻

It had been nearly a month when the nurse finally told him.

“She’s being discharged tomorrow,” she said softly, her voice laced with something gentle—pity, maybe. Understanding. She didn’t look him in the eye as she handed over the clipboard with your updated discharge papers. “She’ll be going home with her mom.”

His fingers curled slowly around the edges of the clipboard, and for a moment, he didn’t move. The world didn’t either.

His heart stuttered in his chest, missing a beat like it forgot how to function. “Home,” he echoed, but the word tasted wrong in his mouth.

Not your home.Not the place where two mugs sat permanently on the kitchen counter. Where your favorite blanket was still tossed on the couch. Where your toothbrush still waited beside his like nothing had changed.

No—this was something else entirely.

This was a reset. A rewind. A return to a version of you that existed before him. A version that didn’t know what it meant to love him.

Didn’t know how he smiled when he was tired. Know the sound of his laugh in the middle of the night when you’d whisper something stupid into the dark just to make him grin. The boy who held your hand through anxiety attacks or danced with you in the living room when the power went out.

This version of you didn’t know Minho at all, and tomorrow, she would walk out of this hospital into a life that no longer had room for him in it.

He blinked down at the clipboard, the words blurring slightly as the weight of it all settled like a stone in his chest. He tried to breathe around it, but the air felt thick, sharp.

“Thanks,” he said at last, the word brittle in his throat. His voice came out tight, almost too low to hear, but the nurse gave him a soft smile anyway before stepping away.

He stood there for a long moment, the hallway around him quiet and still, as if the entire world was giving him a second to come to terms with it.

But no second would ever be enough. This wasn’t just a discharge. It was goodbye to the life they built. To the person you were when you still remembered him. The quiet, sacred space between you that had been filled with years of love and laughter and pain.

He had known this day would come, but knowing it and living it were two different things entirely, and now that it was here, all he could do was stand in the middle of this sterile, cold hallway—still loving you more than anything—while the version of you that loved him was already gone.

He bought you flowers anyway. A soft bouquet—nothing extravagant, just the kind he knew you liked. Pale pinks and creamy whites, delicate petals that reminded him of Sunday mornings spent tangled in sheets and sleepy laughter.

He showed up just before your discharge, stepping through the doorway like someone who didn’t know where he stood anymore.

You were already dressed, a bag at your feet, your mom at your side. You looked up at the sound of his voice, and for a moment—just a flicker—your face softened.

“Hey,” you said, offering him a small smile. He held out the flowers with both hands, almost awkwardly. “For you. Thought you might want something nice to bring home.”

You accepted them with a quiet “thank you,” eyes lingering on the bouquet as if trying to decide what it meant.

Your mom gave them space, stepping out into the hallway with a knowing look. She hadn’t said much to Minho in the past weeks, but the sympathy in her eyes was undeniable.

“I guess this is… goodbye for now,” you said after a pause, shifting the flowers gently in your hands.

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I guess it is.” There were a thousand things he wanted to say.

I miss you.

I love you.

Please don’t forget again. Or please, remember me now.

But he didn’t say any of them.

Instead, he just looked at you—really looked—and tried to memorize the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, even if that smile wasn’t for the same reasons anymore.

“If you ever… remember anything,” he said quietly, “or even if you don’t, but you want to talk, or just… hear more stories—I’ll be around.”

You stared at him for a long moment. Then gave a soft nod. “I think I’d like that. Maybe… someday.”

And just like that, you left with your mother, and Lee Know stood in the hallway, holding the memory of a love you didn’t carry anymore.

-

The first thing Minho noticed was how different everything felt without you.

It wasn’t loud, the absence of you—it wasn’t a crashing kind of loss. It was a quiet, creeping thing. A ghost that lingered in the corners of his apartment, in the spaces you used to fill.

Your shoes were still by the door. Your favorite mug sat in the sink. Your blanket was still draped over the couch, untouched.

He thought about putting it all away—boxing up the remnants of you that still existed in this place. But he couldn’t. Not yet. So instead, he lived in the aftershocks. You were gone, but he still saw you everywhere.

At the café where you used to order that ridiculous, overpriced latte. He caught himself glancing at the menu, almost asking for your usual before remembering you weren’t beside him anymore.

At the park where you used to take your shoes off after it rained. He stood there one evening, hands in his pockets, staring at the empty bench where you used to sit.

At home, where your presence was stitched into every little detail—the playlist you made still queued up in his phone, the way he automatically set aside extra food before remembering you wouldn’t be there to eat it.

Some nights, he dreamed of you. Of the way you used to say his name. Of the feeling of your hand in his. Of laughter that felt like warmth pressed against his skin.

Then he’d wake up to a world where you didn’t know him anymore. It hurt. Every single time.

Still, he held onto the words you left him with.

“Maybe… someday.”

It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t certainty, but it was enough to keep him waiting.

-

Meanwhile, you were trying to piece together a life you no longer recognized.

The days blurred together in a strange haze of familiarity and foreignness. Nothing felt quite right, yet nothing felt entirely wrong either. It was like stepping into a house you’d once lived in as a child—walls that should’ve held memories, rooms that should’ve felt safe. And yet, every corner felt untouched, as if it had belonged to someone else.

Living with your mom wasn’t bad.

She was patient, kind, careful with her words when she spoke about before. She didn’t push you, didn’t flood you with too much information at once. Instead, she let you rediscover things at your own pace, watching you with soft eyes whenever you hesitated before picking up something you used to love.

She made your favorite foods—not because you asked, but because she knew. Because even if you didn’t remember, she did. And maybe, in some small way, she hoped the taste of something warm, something familiar, would bring back the pieces of yourself that felt so far away.

But even in the quiet safety of her home, there was something inside you that felt… off, like something was missing. Like there was an empty space in your chest that you didn’t know how to fill.

You went through the motions—woke up, ate, walked through your old routines as best as you could. Your mother told you bits and pieces. About your job, your friends, the things you used to love. She never overwhelmed you, never bombarded you with too much at once, but no matter how many stories she told, no matter how many childhood memories she shared, there was a disconnect. It was like hearing about someone else’s life, not your own.

Some things made sense—your favorite childhood toy, the way you hated the sound of balloons popping, how you’d always been a night owl. Those little details felt like facts rather than memories, familiar but distant.

Then there were the gaps. The moments where she hesitated, where she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. Almost as if she was stepping around something fragile, or someone.

She never spoke his name unless you asked. She handed you old photographs, smiling softly as you flipped through them, waiting—hoping—for recognition to spark. Some faces felt familiar. Others didn’t.

Then there were the pictures of him.

A man with dark eyes and a sharp smile, standing just slightly too close to you in every frame. His arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder, your fingers interlocked like a habit neither of you had to think about. The man who brought you flowers the day you left the hospital.The man who looked at you with a sadness so deep it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. The man you had once called your boyfriend.

Minho

You should’ve recognized him. You should’ve felt something when you saw the way he looked at you in those photos—like you were the only person in the world, but instead, you just stared.

The longer you looked, the heavier the silence grew. Your mother didn’t push, didn’t say his name, just let you turn the page when you were ready.

You could feel it.

Even if you didn’t remember him, even if your mind refused to recall a single moment with him. Something deep inside you ached when you saw his face, and you didn’t know why.

No matter how hard you tried to remember, your mind refused to give him back to you. The memories remained out of reach, locked away behind a door that wouldn’t budge no matter how many times you knocked. Yet, he lingered in ways you couldn’t understand.

A song would play on the radio, and a strange tightness would settle in your chest, like an echo of something that had once meant everything. At a restaurant, your fingers would hover over a particular dish on the menu, drawn to it by instinct alone, though you had no idea why.

On rainy afternoons, you’d catch yourself standing by your bedroom window, staring at the wet pavement below, toes curling against the hardwood floor. The pull to step outside, to feel the rain against your skin, to abandon your shoes entirely—it was there, an impulse with no explanation.

Then there was your name. The way it sounded when he said it. There was something in the way his voice wrapped around the syllables, something that made your stomach flip and your heart hesitate. It felt different coming from him—softer, heavier, as if it belonged to him as much as it did to you.

You couldn’t place it, couldn’t grasp it. But whatever it was, it refused to fade.

One evening, nearly two months after the accident, you found his number in your phone.

It had been there all along—tucked between names you barely recognized, untouched and waiting. You had scrolled past it dozens of times, always lingering for a second too long before looking away. You hadn’t touched it. Hadn’t dared, but tonight, something was different.

The house was quiet, the hum of the television muffled from the other room where your mother sat, half-watching some drama you didn’t have the heart to follow. Rain pattered softly against the windowpane, a steady rhythm that should have been soothing. But it wasn’t.

You stared at the screen, your name in his contacts staring back at you, unspoken history woven into a few simple digits.

Your fingers hovered just above the glass, unmoving.

You thought about the way he looked at you when you said goodbye—how his expression had been unreadable, but his eyes, dark and aching, had spoken volumes.

You thought about the hesitation in his voice when he said, “If you ever want to talk… I’ll be around.”

There had been something final in the way he stood there, yet not quite. As if he had accepted the distance between you but refused to completely let go.

Your heart beat a little faster.

It had been weeks since you last saw him. Weeks of trying to fit yourself into a life that no longer felt like yours, of filling the empty spaces with distractions that never quite worked.

Yet, he still lingered.

Not in memories—you had none of those—but in the way your body sometimes reacted to things before your mind could process why. In the way your fingers twitched toward certain choices, certain places, as if remembering something you couldn’t see. Now, in this moment, in the quiet weight of the evening, his name felt heavier than it ever had before.

You swallowed hard, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the call button. It would be so easy to close the app. To pretend you never saw it, but for the first time in two months, the urge to reach out was stronger than the fear of what you might—or might not—find.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pressed call. As the line began to ring, you held your breath—because for reasons you couldn’t explain, it felt like something was about to change.

-

On the other side of the city, Minho’s phone rang.

It was late, the kind of quiet hour where the world slowed down, where exhaustion sat heavy in his bones. He had been half-asleep on the couch, a forgotten show playing in the background, his mind drifting somewhere between consciousness and dreams.

the second his phone lit up, the moment he sees your name flash across the screen—he was awake. His breath caught, heart slamming against his ribs as time seemed to freeze.

For a split second, he thought he was imagining it. That his sleep-deprived mind had conjured up something cruel, something hopeful, something impossible.

But no. It was real. You were calling him. His fingers trembled as he reached for the phone, hesitant in a way that terrified him.

This was what he had been waiting for. Hoping for. Even when he told himself not to. Even when he forced himself to move through life as if he wasn’t still waiting for a version of you that might never return.

He had prepared himself for silence. For never hearing your voice directed at him again.

Now, you were right here.

Maybe someday had come sooner than he thought. With one deep, steadying breath, he pressed answer.

“…Hello?”

His voice came out quieter than he intended, barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might scare you away.

After what felt like an eternity—

“…Minho?”

Just his name. Just one word. It unraveled something deep inside him, something he hadn’t realized he was still holding onto, because for the first time in months, you had reached for him.

-

🏷️ : @slutformyloveleeminho @kochothehoe @piscesrising01 @mbioooo0000 @justagoofylittleclown @havenwithleeknow @yeast-ken23 @zelianlop @hungryhobbit815 @vive-la-v-i-d-a @delulumel @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mysterysold @jiniretsleftear @lycxee

[r1nstaaa]

Moving fast until it breaks [L.MH] [Pt. I]

warnings: ANGST!!!! had to get it out of my system. sorry in advance!! idk why tumblr fucks up the picture quality here's playlist for this entire series!! next part

masterlist

You were sitting side by side on a park bench. It was usually always like this, tranquil moments spent in his company. He was always by your side, no matter what time it was, or where you were. If you were there, so was he.

The sun hung low in the sky, basking you both in its warmth. Not that you needed any more with Minho seated right beside you. He gently nudged your knee with his, a silent demand for attention. 

“Look. That cloud looks like a cat.” He said, pointing towards an utterly deformed cloud. You squinted. “That looks nothing like a cat, Min.” 

“Okay, maybe a cat after it got run over by reality.” he mused, making you snort. 

You shook your head while laughing, and he looked at you, grinning. He was utterly pleased with himself, as if making you laugh had been his only goal all along.

“You’re impossible” you sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Impossibly funny? damn right I am.” he said, leaning tilting his head to lean against yours. You just rolled your eyes in response, though you knew he couldn’t see that.

The air smelled like late summer, with a hint of his cologne and a scent that was so incredibly him. You felt the moment make it’s home in your bones, the kind of memory that doesn’t demand attention but just lingers, soft and quiet.

His fingers brushed against yours, a casual, familiar touch that sent sparks throughout your entire body even now. He never even needed to hold your hand fully- just this, the ghost of a touch. Like a promise he was too scared to say out loud. 

“You always do that.” you whispered into the air.

He hummed, “Do what?”

“Act like you’re memorising things. Like you’re keeping them for later, as a souvenir or something. Keepsake? i dunno.”

A breeze passed by, rustling the trees around you. A pleasant sound that went straight to your heart.

He didn’t say anything, he just laughed. A small, breathy laugh as he nudged you a little closer. “Maybe i am.”

And you didn’t know it then. You hadn’t even realised in the warmth and the coziness of the moment, not in the way he looked at you, like you were something worth remembering. Not in the way he looked at you like he would miss you forever.

But that was the last time you sat on that bench together.

[twilightau]

should've been us,♡; L.MH;

about: 0.7k words ― angsty friends to strangers/ missed opportunity this one is from the long forgotten 2021 drafts!

photo: cr. 0_8_0_e

the little led screen announces another post by user onyourm_ark. a photo of mark and his girl 'best' friend hugging each other . You watch with bright smiles. 'late night pizza hunters!' the cheesy caption reads.

from a small distance, your sweet fizzy drink suddenly tastes too sweet as you swallow it down with the lump in your throat. the story your friend was telling you long forgotten as you stare at the couple across the street.

mark's hands linger a little longer on her arm, and you recognize the pattern all over again. his eyes. his smile. the glow. the love.

you still remember the 7th of april; the warmth was slowly embracing the world around you again as you giddily said on the bench in your favorite park. the phone call from a week ago still replaying in your mind like a little broken record.

you: hi markie, what's up?

mark: hi y/n...so...i got a question...are you busy or something?

yYou: hmm not really, just doing some laundry, but what's up?

mark: great. so. um...

you: yeah?

mark: w-would you like to go on a date with me next week?

you: next week?

mark: yeah, wednesday or something?

you: oh...yeah sure! sounds fun

your new sneakers were still fresh without a speck of dirt, while you wore your best blazer to impress your friend. a fluttering feeling in your chest as all your past feelings for him returned in full force at the revelation that they might be reciprocated. it was as if young y/n was finally achieving her dream, just a little older and less expecting than when she had first liked her best friend.

mark came running a shy 20 minutes after the agreed time, apologizing profusely as you waved him off, too much on cloud nine to care. the two of you walked towards a brunch place he recommended and sat down in silence.

that day you went out, as an attempt to let the friendship blossom into something more.

and that was all it was, an attempt. because mark lee had other ideas.

the conversation at the end of that day is still engraved in your memory, as you carry the regrets with you every single day.

"y/n, I need to tell you something," mark started, his fingers fidgeting as he rested his palms on the steering wheel, his eyes trained on the rearview mirror despite you sitting in the passenger seat. you hum in reply, giving him a gentle smile to encourage your best friend to continue.

"i actually liked you." he drops the bomb, your smile barely maintained as you take in the one word that stuck out like a sore thumb. liked?

you stay quiet, not knowing what words will make this situation any better, allowing him to continue. "i think i've liked you ever since we started talking like two summers ago, and yeah... kinda always wanted to ask you out." mark laughed as one of his hands caress the back of his neck, a nervous habit you knew he had. you still haven't said a thing, afraid to make a fool of yourself, because this conversation was going in a direction you didn't anticipate.

"that's pretty much why i asked you out today, to see if perhaps, i still like you." he elaborated after a beat of silence, you nodded.

"but i think we are better off as friends." mark lee said. he had crushed every possibility before they could even form.

"and that is fine, you didn't like me anyway, right?" he tried to lighten the mood, you gathered all your emotions and swallowed them down, turning to look Mark straight in the eye with you best fake smile, a fake smile even he couldn't decipher.

you laughed, "yeah, it's fine." and told your best friend your greatest lie.

the two of you drifted apart after that day, because it was not fine at all. and as much as you promised him you'd be the same for him, you couldn't.

you couldn't when you could have had him, yet something about you stopped him from liking you any further.

now you watch Mark rekindle his feelings, but this time, you were out of that picture.

and it was all because of those little confessions you were afraid to share.

[awooghan]

[11:41 pm] ✧.* l.mh

➳ PAIRING: lee know x gn!reader

➳ GENRE: fluff, slice of life, silent/mutual pining, friends to (implied) lovers

➳ WARNINGS: none, just tooth-rotting fluff and simp!lino :]

➳ WORD COUNT: 1k exactly which is a bit long for a timestamp but are we surprised

➳ SUMMARY: you and minho are out with your friends one night. minho notices you won't leave his side.

➳ NOTES: wow i actually completed a fic and it wasn't for christmas LOL hope you enjoy <3 also i know the banner is lee know in a puffy coat but this is supposed to be a summer night timestamp and this was the closest photo i could find 😭 (and as always ty @ujimoo for helping me make a banner)

➳ SONG REC: headliner (seventeen)

network tags: @kflixnet @straykidsland-main @kwritersworld @k-labels

“Ah, Y/N…” Minho says, lightly nudging you. “When are you gonna get off me?”

His voice, flat but gentle, cuts through the air around you, making the crickets chirping nearby sound like a mere pin drop. He doesn’t mean to sound rude, though his tone alone would have raised the eyebrows of strangers passing by. Luckily, there aren’t many people around to spare him weird glances this late at night.

It’s a genuine question, though. Instead of stomping around on the playground down the slope with your friends, you have effectively trapped Minho next to you atop a nearby hill. Your legs are outstretched before you, your shoes innocently tapping against his as you rock your feet side to side. Your arm sits comfortably next to his, and your head rests on his shoulder. He’s all but stuck now, like sap on a maple tree in January, and if you don’t move soon, he’ll be doomed to spend the rest of the night here in the grass.

He feels you shrug next to him.

“Hmm?” Minho hums. His eyes widen just slightly as you scoot closer. Your hand brushes against his, and your fingers lazily drum a pattern into the warm earth below you. He tries to ignore this and pokes you repeatedly in the arm.

“Come onnnn…” he says. “When are you gonna get up?”

Your quiet “I dunno” in response fills his ears.

“What do you meeeaaann, ‘I dunno’?” He makes a show of rolling his eyes, then clicks his tongue. “Why don’t you wanna get up, hmm?”

A scream echoes through the park and makes Minho look up for a moment. Changbin’s short figure flies through the air, his arms flailing. The swing behind him rocks erratically as he falls onto the mulch with a thud. Wooyoung points and cackles loudly from the swing next to him, but quickly lets out a shriek of his own and grips onto the metal chains. Further right, Jungwoo and Chaeryeong’s silhouettes chase each other around on the main playground equipment. Lampposts at the edge of the playground cast a dim yellow glow across the space, like the ones in retro film recordings. Minho can imagine the little “PLAY” icon floating at the top left of the scene, blinking periodically several feet above the dark blue awning.

He feels a light tap against his shoe again.

“Owww!” Minho feigns a cry. He picks up his feet and swipes them away from you in one swift move, the corners of his lips pulling down in an exaggerated pout. “Y/N, that hurt~ how dare you…” 

Looking back at you, you’re mindlessly clicking your feet against each other, and you’re still all cuddled up on his shoulder. His heart thumps a little louder in his chest when you shove your head closer to him.

“Yah, Y/N…”

“Hmm...” Your soft hum comes out more as a statement than a reply.

You flutter your eyes closed, your lashes gently batting against your skin. He heaves out a sigh, and the warm breeze tickles his cheeks with a light blush. It seems to have more mercy on you, though, as it delicately brushes your stray hairs away from your forehead, framing your face perfectly. Almost too perfectly. The crickets blend into the quiet air as he takes in the sight.

“Hey…” Minho tries one more time. He tilts his head slightly as he gazes at you. “Why don’t you get up? Our friends are waiting.”

The breeze picks up for just a moment, making you scrunch up your nose. Minho gestures down the hill. It’s getting more difficult to look away from you. “See?” he continues. “Playground's right over there. ‘S loads more fun than I am.”

Another shriek rings out from the playground area. Chaeryeong lies in an awkward position at the bottom of the slide. The wind picks up again at the same time, whistling against Minho’s ears right as Chaeryeong yells something at Jungwoo. All he can make out is another scream as Jungwoo tumbles down the slide and knocks Chaeryeong onto the gravel.

But a light tap sings louder to Minho than all of it.

Looking back at you, his eyes trace down, stopping where your fingers meet his arm. As light as a hummingbird’s wing beat, your fingers tap across his forearm and leave a path of spreading warmth in their wake. They seem to float in the air as they skip further down. Your touch, so faint and gentle, nearly lulls him to sleep. He lets his eyes fall shut.

It’s like Minho is at the beach for a moment, and your fingers brushing against his skin are the ocean waves calmly swaying over his feet. Then, he feels a sudden blast as a tidal wave crashes over him, its currents pulling him under and leaving him unable to breathe. His eyes snap open and right toward the spot where your hand has come to a gentle rest over the top of his own.

Minho’s eyes meet your soft ones. Your head is still comfortably nestled on his shoulder, and your cheeks seem to glow in the dark when you smile at him. For a moment, perhaps a moment too long, time comes to a still as he takes you in, watching you slowly melt into his side. You look so at peace, and he dare not disturb you, despite his urge to spring up and run down the hill and scream at Changbin. Thankfully, he’s too engrossed in the feeling of your hand on top of his to even try. He thanks his lucky stars once more that you’re also looking down at your hands, so you can’t notice the blood rushing to the tips of his ears.

Slowly, he spreads his fingers and gently threads them with yours. He glances at you, then looks down at his lap, a shy smile finally forming on his lips.

“Ah…” he says softly. “ Our friends can wait a little.”

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Not My Boyfriend : Prologue (L.MH)

Warnings : swearing, drinking, clubbing, food, jealousy, smut (warnings under cut)

Word Count : 2.7k

⚠️Minors do not interact⚠️

Smut Warnings : unprotected, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving), names (daddy, kitten), over stimulation, breeding kink, corruption kink, i think that's it, let me know if i missed something

            She was on the dance floor, some man’s hands on her waist, holding her close. He told her his name when he first approached her, but she wasn’t paying attention. Her attention continuously drifting towards the bar where Minho was, a couple girls hanging on his every word.

            He was just a friend to her, she kept repeating to herself. A very attractive friend, but a friend, nonetheless. But she couldn’t help but steal glances in his direction, watching him entertain a group of three women. She subconsciously tries to make him jealous, whispering in the stranger’s ear, pulling away with a smile on her face.

            She had no idea that Minho had his eyes on her the entire time, barely saying anything. He has no idea why these girls are hanging onto every word when it’s clear his attention is elsewhere. He has no idea why he and Y/n are playing this game when in his mind it’s obvious that they only want each other.

            Minho watches as she leans in to whisper in the stranger’s ear and he’s turning towards the bar. Y/n sees this and her smile falls, but she tries to act unbothered. Why should it matter if she has his attention or not? They were just friends.

            She glances in his direction again but he was nowhere to be found. One of the girls was  missing too, and she felt her heart drop. She pulls out her phone to see if Minho texted her. They came together, he wouldn’t just leave without letting her know, would he? But the only messages she had were from other friends.

            The guy she’s with pulls her closer. “Should we get out of here?” He’s smirking at her when he pulls away, gesturing towards the door. Before she could say anything, someone pushes between them with a curt excuse me, and he’s pushing a drink into her hand. “Nah bro this one’s mine. Been working my magic for an hour now.”

            “If you call that working your magic, you’ll be a virgin for the rest of your life. Now get lost, because this girl is actually mine. I was just letting you have fun.” She couldn’t help but smile at Minho calling her his, but quickly shook it off, reminding herself that he was her friend, her best friend.

            “Thanks, Min.” She said, taking a sip of the drink he bought her, that she quickly realized was just a regular soda, no alcohol. Another smile was tugging at her lips at the small attention to detail, how she stops drinking alcohol after a certain time. No one else has ever paid attention to that.

            “Don’t thank me quite yet.” He said, fixing her hair for her. She just stared at him, studying his face while he was distracted. His face was seemingly chiseled for the gods, with sharp features and a panty dropping smirk. She can tell he’s been working out, easily filling out this shirt she remembers used to be baggy on him. “Enjoying the view?” He asked with a smirk, tilting her head upwards so their eyes met.

            Her face turned red as she tried to stutter out an excuse, but he just chuckled, shaking his head, telling her it was alright, that he’d been checking her out all night. “What?” Was all she could respond.

            His hand drops from her face, and she misses the contact. Until she feels both his hands on her waist. “Your dress fits you perfectly.” He says softly, but she can still hear him over the music. As if it was just the two of them in this moment, a bubble surrounding them. “Hugs your curves.” He whispers into her ear, one of his hands dipping down to her hip. “Shows off your legs.” He continues, his hand continuing further down to the hem of her dress, sitting mid thigh.

            She has no idea what is happening in this moment. No idea the feeling she has forming in the pit of her stomach. But she loves it. She doesn’t want it to stop. She wants him to keep touching her, to keep looking at her like this. And he can tell. He can tell by the look in her eyes that she wants this just as badly as he does.

            His hand inches back upwards, resting on her back, just above her ass, and he pulls her closer. “Driving me insane, kitten.” His voice is a lot deeper suddenly. And the pet name doesn’t pass her by, but she doesn’t mind it. She finds herself loving it more than she should.

            She should pull away. They’re just friends.

            She wraps her arms around his neck, smiling at him. “Wasn’t a long drive, daddy.” She whispers the name in his ear to gauge his reaction. He smirks, trying to keep calm, but she can see him slowly losing his composure.

            The hand that was placed on her back slowly inches down, now resting on her ass. He gives it a quick squeeze, a tiny squeal falling from her lips. “A preview of the sounds I can elicit out of you.”

            She should step away, remind him that they are just friends.

            One hand begins to trace shapes on his chest, but her eyes stayed locked on his. She cocked her head to the side, a teasing smirk dancing on her lips. “You’ve been in the house with me while I was being fucked, you know I’m quiet. You think you can be the one to make me vocal?”

            His grip tightens for a second in jealousy, remembering the men she used to bring to the home they share together. The sounds he heard were only ever from the men, and he knew he could do a much better job. If she gave him a chance, he could show her what it’s like to not have to masturbate after sex just to cum. “I’ll be the one to make you scream.” He answers honestly. “You’ll be screaming my name before I even get my cock out.” He whispers in her ear before pressing a soft kiss underneath.

            She should put it a stop to it all. Tell Minho to pretend this never happened.

            “Prove it.” She says. “Make me scream, daddy.”

~

            Everything moves quickly. They’re out of the club in a flash, and next thing she knows, he’s placing her on her bed. His movements are slightly sloppy, struggling a bit to get them both naked. It’s something he’s been waiting so long for, and now that it’s so close, he doesn’t want to waste another second.

            Her dress falls to the floor and she crawls back on the bed, laying on her back just for him. It’s a sight to behold. A sight in many of his fantasies. He stands at the foot of the bed, his dick in his hand, rubbing himself as he takes in the view. She licks her lips as she takes in his naked body standing in front of her. “Want some help?” She asks softly, getting to her knees and crawling closer to him.

            The innocence in her eyes and pout on her lips as him groaning. He knows she’s slept with other men. He’s heard their moans behind the very door he’s currently behind. Knows she’s very experiences, probably more than he is. But she’s looking up at him with a look in her eyes with screams inexperienced, and he could cum just by looking at it.

            He doesn’t let her know that, though. Decides to keep that to himself for now. Instead he takes a step forward and grips her hair in his hand, and he tells her to open up. He lets her set the pace to start. Allows her to learn what makes him feel good, what drives him crazy. Watches as she wraps her mouth around his cock, looking up at him.

            After a few minutes, he grips her hair again, setting the pace himself, making her take all of him. He watches her eyes well up with tears as she chokes on his dick, and he feels himself get so close to cumming before he pulls out. “Your turn.” He says with a smirk, pushing her back on the bed before grabbing her thighs and pulling her closer to him. “Been dying to have a taste.”

            His movement are fast just like they were earlier. Sloppy but with reason. He starts with his fingers before diving in with his tongue. Periodically, he glances up at her face to see if he’s hitting the right spot. Her breathing picks up, and her hips are bucking upwards, quiet whines are falling from her lips. It’s music to his ears. She doubted his abilities, and he’s going to prove her wrong.

            She cums, but he does not stop. He holds her hips down against the bed, not allowing them to buck upwards. She’s gripping his hair, pulling it just hair enough it that it feels good. “Stop holding back. Let me hear you or I won’t fuck you tonight.” He demands before going back to eating her out. He buries two fingers into her pussy, curling them to hit the g spot.

            Her walls clench around her fingers as she cums for a second time, and he still doesn’t stop. Still holding her hips against the bed, her head swivels from side to side as her whines get louder. He adds a third fingers and she lets out a small yelp. His name falls off her lips like a mantra she can’t stop repeating. It gets louder and louder the closer she gets to her third orgasm. He fucked his fingers into her faster, his tongue circling around her clit. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her third orgasm caused a scream to escape her lips.

            He let her hips free, and they were immediately bucking upwards as she came down from  her high. But he didn’t let her rest for long before thrusting his dick inside of her, sucking her juices of his fingers, before kissing her, telling her to taste herself.

            She felt so good around him, almost as if she was made for his dick and his dick only. He couldn’t get enough, starting off slow so he could feel every inch of him go inside her. He admired her body as he slowly thrusted in and out of her. Played with her nipples between his fingertips, pressing soft kisses to her body.

            He didn’t know when he’d be able to get her like this, so he wanted to savour every second. Saving her body to his memory, tracing every curve with his eyes. He’d worship every part of her if she’d let him. Kiss the parts she hates. Whisper how beautiful she is while he makes her cum on his dick.

            “Faster.” She whines through her heavy breathing. And he’s whipped for her so he can’t say no. He gives her exactly what she wants. His thumb circles around her clit as he thrusts faster, harder, every time she tells him to. He can tell he’s not going to last much longer and goes to pull out, but she stops him. “Cum inside me please. I have an IUD.” Even if she didn’t, he would have.

            He’s had many dreams where he gets to cum inside her. Many fantasies that he touches himself to where she lets him fuck her full of his cum. Gets to watch as it falls out of her before fingering it back into her. Claiming her in such an intimate way has him almost cumming immediately.

            He has to pause for a second to get his mind back on track, and to stop from cumming immediately. Her hips keep moving, practically fucking herself with his dick, and he loves how desperate she is for him. Whining that she’s so close, to keep going.

            He grips her hips as he pounds into her, giving everything he has. It’s silent leading up to her fourth orgasm of the night. Her screams are caught in her throat, and her mouth hangs open, no sound to be heard. Until the orgasm hits. She screams out the word fuck so loud she’s sure the neighbours heard.

            He’s not far behind, cumming inside her like she asked him. He watches as it slides out when he pulls his dick out. And then he thrusts inside her again. “Gotta make sure it stays in.” He grunts. His hands are still on her hips, keeping her in place as he fucks his cum inside her.

            She’s gripping the sheets, curse words fall from her lips as she gets closer and closer to another orgasm. There’s no doubt in her mind now that the neighbours are hearing every single thing. But a noise complaint is the last thing on her mind right now.

            Her entire body is shaking as she cums again. Minho pulls out and he a places a soft kiss on her forehead. He tries to ignore how hot she looks fucked out like this. Cock drunk on his cock. He’s dreamed of this, but the real thing is so much better. “Wait here. I’m going to draw you a bath and get you something to eat and drink.” He says softly, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead.

            She lays there just like he said, thinking to herself. Wondering how this is going to change things between them. She watches as he walks to the bathroom to start the bath, and then heading towards the kitchen to grab her a snack and a drink. And she knows she’s fucked, figuratively and literally.

            She’s always seen Minho as a friend. Moved in with him because he’s practically her other half. But now that she knows what his lips feel like. Now that she knows what it’s like to be fucked by him. She doesn’t think she can ever see him as just a friend again.

            She smiles when Minho comes back into view. He picks her up from the bed and carries her to the bath, where he’s set up her laptop, and a snack tray with a glass of juice. “You spoil me.” She says softly, looking at all the effort he put in for her.

            “This is nothing.” He replies nonchalantly. “Enjoy.” He pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she settled into the bath, and then retreated back to his room. Locking the door, he quickly got into bed, closing his eyes, and reliving what just happened, his hand rubbing his dick.

            Now that he’s had her, he doesn’t think he can be with anyone else, or see her with anyone else. Her pussy feels too good around his cock, like it was made only for him. His hand is terrible in comparison to the real thing, but he can’t help himself. He’s insatiable when it comes to her.

            He thinks about her on her knees for him. Thinks about cumming inside her. Thinks about her looking up at him so innocently. The way she looked completely fucked out when he was done. Her makeup smudged, her hair a mess.

            His breathing picks up as he gets closer to another orgasm. He grunts as he feels it get closer and closer, but nothing is working. He remembers the feeling of her wrapped around him. Remembers the taste of her on his tongue. The way his name sounds falling from her lips.

            “Minho?” He hears her calling from the bathroom. It’s almost embarrassing how fast he cums at her voice. Specifically her voice calling out his name.

            “Yes, kitten?” He responds practically on instinct, remembering how she liked it earlier. He could hear the smile on her face when she asked for help out of the bath and into bed. And she sounded so innocent, so sweet, how he could he deny her?  

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[wnbnny]

we can't be friends- l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining

status: coming soon... (taglist is open!)

author's note: i had this in my drafts so i decided to give u guys a sneak peek >< will probably be released in a week!

sneak peek...

december 25, 2019, 11.28 pm, your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that café shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. i listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it? 

it's christmas today. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wear your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you. 

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i hate that i still love you.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild