#minho imagines

[indigo-stay]

Cat Criminals

Minho x reader

“Hey can you ask your cats to stop breaking into my apartment?”

Comment your thoughts! Should I do a part 2?

Part 2 here!

[beffrmin]

SKZ OT8 Smut Headcannons.

Hey, so I am a new writer.. let's not hate too much? Everything I write is just what I imagine from their personalities.. and how I will get used to writing them, for right now.. so yeah.

For my beginning, first post, or whatever you want to call this.. I want to establish that this is just for fun.. I do not mean harm to any of the idols I write about. This is just from a curious and open mind.

This is set up kind of like one of those "pick your poison," kind of posts, so just go down the list and find your bias if that is all your here for.. if not, then with your interest here as someone looking for stories, this is going to be how their sexual preferences are for these fictions. Before I make a full story, I will upload bits and pieces of small stories to adjust with writing their personalities.

So, without a further a due :

‼️WARNIGS:‼️ This is sexual content and only 18+ should interact with this.‼️MDNI‼️If you are easily disturbed by BDSM and/or anything besides vanilla sex, this content is not for you.‼️

Thank you...

Christopher Chan Bahng. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "Nah, let's just wrap 'em up." Listen, he has seven grown ass children.. take the damn condom or get no dick.

ᝰ.ᐟ Daddy Dom. It's undeniable at this point. Chan likes being called daddy, he likes taking care of you, after he has wrecked you. He likes being able to discipline you, when you act out.

ᝰ.ᐟ Face-off. This is his favorite position. He likes you in his lap, facing him, while he sat straight up, fucking into you. Yes, usually it would be riding.. but Chan isn't really into that, he wants to control your orgasms and make you cry.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Ass.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Angry Sex. Let's just say, he enjoys this so much, he'll sometimes picks fights with his members, just to come home and fuck all of that anger into the mattress with you.

ᝰ.ᐟ Light Bondage. Bondage gets very iffy with Chan. He doesn't want to hurt you, so his quick fix to it is truly a way you can enjoy it and he doesn't have to worry too much.. he will only tie the wrist and the ankles.

ᝰ.ᐟ Pet names and Praises. Not many things turn Chan on, that are non-sexual.. but when he does something for you and you use just the right pet-name, praising him for it.. he feels the heat picks up and he just wants to fuck you right there..

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Humiliation. He hates this, not only for you, but for him too. He hates having to humiliate you or your sex life, just to get off. It makes him feel icky and he goes soft. It's intimate and he wants to make you feel that way.

ᝰ.ᐟ Impact Play. If he needs to discipline you, he will in other ways. He doesn't feel right laying a hand on you, even if you consent to it. It's just the type of man he is.

Lee Minho. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "Fuck the condom, I don't care.." No, because he actually despises condoms.

ᝰ.ᐟ Bratty and, slightly, Sadistic Dom. Minho is a Brat tramer who responds to a Brat, by being bratty. He also can be extremely sadistic. You're bratting him in public? "Don't make me fuck your slutty cunt, right here in front of everybody, baby.."

ᝰ.ᐟ Missionary. This is his favorite position, mostly, because he does have a lot of control in this position. Plus, when he cums inside of you, it feels almost primal to him in that position. The most intimate.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Boobs.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Control. Minho loves watching you crawl and beg for him. He loves to play the games. Anyway he can control you, he will try. Mind games, humiliation, or even dirty talk. He just likes watching you get flushed.

ᝰ.ᐟ Thigh Riding. He will sit there for hours, watching you use his thigh to rut against. He will sit there and rock you back and forth, while he palms at himself and whispers dirty approvals to you.

ᝰ.ᐟ Dumbification. Minho will give the most shit eating grin during sex if he realizes he made you go dumb, which, at that point, leads to his agenda being: make her into a zombie.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Blood Play. He is a freak, but Minho draws a solid line at the sight of blood. That is just not his cup of tea and he panics the moment he sees it. He wants to be rough with you, not hurt you.

ᝰ.ᐟ Knife Play. Knife Play equals drawing blood, which equals a solid, hard no from Minho.

Seo Changbin. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "I'll just pull out." There is really no telling with Bin, he might wear one or he might not.

ᝰ.ᐟ Brat Tamer. Changbin loves a challenge. His challenge is often you. Which means, for him to be able to break you into a bed, he has to get you to behave right.. which is mostly physical restraint.

ᝰ.ᐟ Up Against the Wall. Legs wrapped around him, while he thrusts into you, while you against the wall. It's his favorite position, mostly, because it shows you how strong he is.. being able to pick you up and fuck you like that.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Both.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Filming. He loves to film you and the intimate time that goes in between the two of you. He doesn't post it. No, he just saves it for his own later uses, but he loves the films a little more, knowing he had your trust while filming it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Marking. Bin isn't really a jealous person. He knows all to well that you would never cheat on him.. but other men have wandering eyes and he doesn't like that too much. So, hickeys and bite marks. Everywhere. His pants get tighter every time he sees one.

ᝰ.ᐟ Power Play. As much as Bin hates to admit it, he really does have a thing for out-powering you. He likes knowing he could bend you over at any minute to fuck you senseless.. so sometimes you please him with a little free-use here and there.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Sharing. This is a big no from Changbin. To be honest with you, if you even bring the idea up to him, he might low-key crash the fuck out on you. He isn't too fond of having to share what is his, especially with his dumbass members.

ᝰ.ᐟ Impact Play. Listen.. Bin is strong, he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you in some shape or form. He would rather just avoid it at all costs. He will physically restrain you all day, but hitting is something he won’t do.

Hwang Hyunjin. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "If you don't care, I won't use it.." Yeah, Hyunjin is a firm believer that it feels so much better without a condom.

ᝰ.ᐟ Voyeurism Dom. He is the kind of man who wants to watch you touch yourself for hours, torturing you with the fact that he could make you feel so much better than toys and fingers.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cowgirl. This is his favorite position, mostly for the reason he can see all of you. He loves watching you fuck yourself on his cock.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Threesomes. This is something he suggests.. not to get another girl in for, but to get Felix in for. This man actually loves watching another man take you. It makes him feel even better when he's watching you take him and his best friend at the same time.

ᝰ.ᐟ Oral Fixation. He gives amazing head.. like ungodly, unreal, great head. But he has a fixation with watching you suck him off.. it's like he's more into watching you do it, rather than the actual pleasure that comes from it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cum Play. He will cum inside you.. fuck it in some.. play it while it is sobbing out of your pussy.. keep fucking it in.. then out of nowhere, rub it onto your tits and lips.. then continue to fuck his cum into you.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Bondage. Yeah, uhm, he is terrified of hurting you in any way, at all, whatsoever. He said, "I love you, but no. It can cut your circulation and I don't feel comfortable doing that to you." He was at least respectful.

ᝰ.ᐟ Impact Play. Also for the same reasons as bondage. He just doesn't feel comfortable laying a hand on you in a way that could hurt you. It would honestly make him feel like shit.

Han Jisung. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "Shit.. I forgot the condom again.." He tries to use one, but Jisung gets so pussy-drunk, he just totally blanks putting one on.

ᝰ.ᐟ Pleasure Dom. He wants you shaking. His main focus is you and your pleasure. This can often get mistaken as a service dom, but the difference is a pleasure dom is more pussy-drunk and much more gentle.

ᝰ.ᐟ Face-sitting. He doesn't exactly have a favorite position.. he just wants you to sit on his face. That is the only way he wants you and prefers to have you: humping your clit into his nose, while he tongue devours your core.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Pussy.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Face-fucking. Listen, Jisung isn't rough.. but when you brought up the idea, he was iffy on it. Well, turns out he fucking loves it. He feels bad making you cry and hurting you, but he can't get over how pretty you sound gagging and choking on his cock. He always apologizes right after.

ᝰ.ᐟ Moaning. He goes feral the moment he hears you moan. It like flicks this switch in his head and he starts going deeper.. then deeper.. then next thing you know he is starting to speed up.

ᝰ.ᐟ Marking. His is a bit different from the usual marking kink. Jisung really loves finding scratch marks on him after sex, he later brags about them to Minho.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Roleplay. Jisung is not the biggest fan of it. Not for the reason he hates it, but he really can't take it seriously enough to stay hard. He would start laughing and try to understand how this was how you wanted to enjoy your night, instead of him giving you a toe curling orgasm.

ᝰ.ᐟ Impact Play. Also, just not the biggest fan of it. He doesn't really like the idea of raising his hands at a woman. The most physical he will get is light tugs to your hair, but hitting is stepping a line for him.

Lee Felix. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "Com'on, darlin'.. we need to be careful.." The thought of becoming a father scares Felix..

ᝰ.ᐟ Service Dom. His pleasure is completely your pleasure. That is how he gets off to you. He has little things he asks for, but most of the time his focus, is your pleasure.

ᝰ.ᐟ Missionary. This is what feels most natural to him. It's his way of showing you all of his love, plus he loves eye contact.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Both.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Anal. This was a shock to you. When he asked you to roll over, you thought this man was going to be hitting it from the back and all you got was a pop and a cock into the ass. He just has a thing for ruining every hole.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cock-warming. This was something that you two found out accidentally. More like, you found out accidentally, he was just trying to game. Now, every time he games, you have to be there sitting pretty and still for him.

ᝰ.ᐟ Breath Play. He surprised this one on you, but you didn't debunk. It was extremely iffy to be honest. You two looked into it a little better and next thing you know, Felix loved it. He loved the feeling of you panting and trying to catch your breath underneath him.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Blood Play. Felix just doesn't want to hurt you. This also disqualifies knife play. He does not like the thought of hurting you or making you bleed.

ᝰ.ᐟ Impact Play. Same thing as the blood play. It doesn't sit right with him, raising a hand at a woman for no reason, not even for his own pleasure.

Kim Seungmin. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "I am not trying to be like Chan." Yeah, don't try to convince him otherwise.

ᝰ.ᐟ Rigger Dom. What can he say? He has a thing for ropes. Most of all, he loves seeing you in ropes. He has every ounce of control when he is on top of you and you're restrained down. That's a type of trust that lights a fire in him.

ᝰ.ᐟ Arched Doggy. Face down, ass up, hands tied behind your back, that's the way he loves to fuck.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Boobs.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Mirror Sex. He made you get a mirror in your bedroom, that way he could watch himself fuck you. Both of you have mirrors in your rooms, facing the bed for this purpose. Seungmin will even go as far as to grab your hair and force your head up to watch.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cum Denial. This is the real Seungmin now.. ties you up, teases you for hours on end, just for his pleasure. He likes seeing you writhe away into the bed, making you cry, as he pulls the vibrator back to deny you again.

ᝰ.ᐟ Dacryphilia. His dick twitches the moment he sees tears during sex. He will do everything to make more of them slip. Seungmin has the firm belief that you look beautiful when you cry.. plus, he has to be doing a good job, if you're crying about it.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Bodily Fluids or Vile. This means no blood, no piss, no shit. He doesn't do that nasty shit. He would rather have sex with Changbin, before you try to arouse him with your bodily fluids.

ᝰ.ᐟ Feet. This man will not kiss you head to toe. This man will kiss you head to shin, before he starts gagging, because, he is way too close to a foot. He loves you, there is nothing wrong with your feet, he just hates feet.

Yang Jeongin. ؛ ଓ

˙ᵕ˙ Basics..

ᝰ.ᐟ "Okay, baby.. if you insist." Jeongin wanted the condom at first, but it was so easy to talk him out of it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Gentle Dom. He's sweet. Like everything he does is in your mind. Everything he does is out of love for you. That's what makes him so special. Every touch, he appreciates you like some masterpiece.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cunnilingus. Jeongin doesn't have a favorite position. He likes to eat you out. Right between your legs, while you lay back doing whatever you want. Your thighs squish his head, just a bit, every time something feels just a little too good. That is what he wants.

ᝰ.ᐟ Boobs or Ass? Thighs.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-ons..

ᝰ.ᐟ Public Sex. This is the freakiest he has gotten. Every time you guys are out, he wants inside your pants. For some reason, he has the biggest fixation with quickies when the Kids are nearby. He'll hear one of them coming and, "Baby, come sit on my lap.."

ᝰ.ᐟ Praising. He loves praising you. He found out if he praises you at just the right time and with the right words, your walls hug him in ways that make him nearly bust.

ᝰ.ᐟ Breeding. After suggesting no condoms to this boy, he was a bit nervous about it.. then you realized it awoken something in him. That being, he really likes the idea and the risk of filling you, stuffing you, and possibly.. getting you pregnant. It's just a fantasy of his.

˙ᵕ˙ Turn-offs..

ᝰ.ᐟ Pet Play. He isn't kink shaming, he just doesn't get the point in it. He thinks it's something a little strange and it isn't something he really wants to test the waters with.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sharing. Jeongin does not show it, but he is a jealous person. He doesn't like other men looking at you, why would he be okay with them sleeping with you? You are his and his alone. And he's pussy-whipped.

[feelbokkie]

soft thought 012

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

lee minho is the type of boyfriend who would indulge in your love for reading. he'd offer to drive you places so you can read in the car, even if you have a license. if you're feeling a little tired or if you're sick, he'll read your book to you. if he finds out that the book you're reading has some sort of special dish, he'll surprise you one day and make it for you. imagine: you're reading dungeon meshi and he makes a whole meal based on the manga. even if he doesn't care about the book or the series you're reading, he'll sit there and listen to you explain the entire plot, offering back soft little "hmms," as a response so you know he's listening. he'll even ask little questions and just let you talk to your heart's content. but beware, if you mention loving a character a little too much, and he'll give you that knowing, mischievous grin and give you a snarky comment to tease you

[itsbbokari]

Title: Soft on You

“Your hoodie is cursed… it makes me fall asleep on you.”

Paring ⤑ (Minho x Reader)

Word count: 450

Minho was halfway through an episode of their favorite show when he felt something warm and heavy slump against his side.

Again.

He didn’t even look down. “Y/N.”

A muffled hum vibrated against his chest.

“You’re asleep, aren’t you?”

“No,” she mumbled—followed immediately by a soft snore.

Minho sighed, not with annoyance, but with the kind of exaggerated drama he’d perfected just for moments like this. “That’s the third time this week. What is it with you and my hoodie?”

Y/N shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into the oversized black hoodie that swallowed her frame. “It’s cursed,” she said sleepily, lips barely moving. “Every time I wear it, I get all warm and cozy and then boom. Unconscious.”

Minho smirked, glancing down at her—hair a little messy, face smushed cutely against him, and arms curled like a kitten in his lap.

“You sure it’s not me who’s cursed?” he teased. “Because you only pass out when you’re stuck to me.”

She peeked one eye open and poked his chest with a lazy finger. “No. Hoodie. Evil. You should get rid of it.”

“Maybe I should stop letting you steal it,” he challenged.

Y/N let out a dramatic gasp, then flopped entirely into his lap like a defeated ragdoll. “Heartless.”

Minho chuckled, threading his fingers through her hair. “You know I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “You’re cute like this. Annoying—but cute.”

“’Snot annoying,” she yawned, barely keeping her eyes open now. “It’s science. Hoodie equals nap. Nap equals cuddles. Cuddles equal serotonin.”

Minho rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him.

“Fine. But if you start drooling again, I’m making you wash it.”

She was already asleep.

And Minho stayed perfectly still the whole time—just in case the curse only worked if he didn’t

[hyuneflix]

asking bsf!skz if they're tryna fuck

reader asks bsf!skz if they're tryna fuck, but they're joking right? right guys? NSFW, 18+

HYUNG LINE • 형 라인

MAKNAE LINE • 막내 라인

are you still watching? << exit // continue watching (bsf!skz) >>

A/N: so idk if this is even entertaining or just stupid but i thought i should probably try and release more content in between major updates to keep people busy <3

lemme know what you think :)

taglist @mangojellyyy • @diekleinesuesse • @geni-627 • @fun-fanfics • @candyquokka • @painterhyunjin • @velvetmoonlght • @velvetskize

[mykoreanlove]

Testing the waters

You’re sitting together, cuddling on the black leather couch after finishing tonight’s dinner, when Minho casually calls you:

“여보 (yeobo), pass me the remote.”

You freeze for a moment, blinking in confusion, and then turn to him.

“Wait… why did you call me 여보 (yeobo)?”

He looks at you, completely innocent, and says:

“What do you mean? It’s natural.”

You shake your head in disbelief, half-laughing, half-confused.

“No, it’s not. You’ve never called me that. Y/nnie, baby, kitten, 자기 (jagi), sure - but never 여보 (yeobo).“

Your eyes pierce through him, yet he remains unbothered.

„Do you not like it?“

You roll your eyes at him, explaining yourself.

„Of course I do. But 여보 (yeobo) is for married couples, right? Like husbands and wives? We’re not married, Min.“

At that, his lips curl into a sly smirk, his gaze locking onto yours. He leans a little closer and whispers in a low, teasing voice:

“Yes… so what’s not clear to you?”

Your heart skips a beat as his words sink in.

“Wait—are you trying to tell me something?!”

He just laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and placing a quick kiss on your temple.

“I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’m just stating facts, 여보 (yeobo).

And from that moment on, every time he calls you 여보 (yeobo), you can’t help but feel like he’s silently telling you, “You’re mine forever, y/n.“

[mentalhomosexual]

‎‧₊˚✧[𝘚𝘬𝘻 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ]✧˚₊‧

ᯓ★ Pairing: Straykids x Fem reader

ᯓ★Tags: cumming inside,Minho calls reader a slut, just smut with no plot, they're all horny idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

Chan could always tell when you were ovulating...imo I feel he would be the kind of boyfriend that would like to keep track of your cycle so he could know when he needs to buy you snacks and spoil you completely rotten BUT when it comes to ovulation that's a different story. He loves to tease you and see how riled up you get, like coming behind you and kissing your neck, knowing how much you love it, he whispers into your ear, pressing his clothed bulge against you but the moment you start to press back and softly moan he pulls away, leaving you hornier than you already were. :'(

Don't worry though, he'll fuck you after. And he's rough. he knows that's how you like it when your ovulating, your face pushed into a pillow as he pulls your hips back to meet his.

"Fuckk..it feels good doesn't it baby?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He knows that your ovulating but he makes you wait for it, he pretends not to notice your lustfull gazes at him or your lingering touches, he can't help it he just loves to tease you, but he can only deny you so long before he wants you just as bed. He fucks you relentlessly. Face shoved into a pillow with your ass up, you love being fucked dumb by him, wheather you're ovulating or not. Harsh slaps to your ass as he tells you how much of a slut you are. True paradise. 🤌🏽

"Such a slut aren't you? want me to breed your pretty pussy, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He secretly loves it. You get so worked up just seeing his muscles. he makes sure to wear sleeveless shirts and tank tops around you just to see you fight back demons, he lets you do whatever you want because he knows how rapid you become during ovulation, he lays back with an arm behind his head as you ride him. He tells you how beautiful you are ontop of him and you swear you see stars...maybe one baby wouldn't hurt ? 🤩

"so pretty baby—fuck, you feel so good"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Of course, Hyunjin would give you whatever you wanted during ovulation. He secretly likes it too, 🤫. He's hitting it from the back, your fucked out moans filling the room, your turn your head back and start mumbling words.

"What's the matter baby? Talk to me" he grins as he sees your face, your practically drooling on yourself.

"Mmm...take the condom off...wanna feel all of you~" you whine, He grins at your request, he does as he's told before immediately sliding back inside you, your eyes rolling back at his quickening pace, the tip of his cock kissing all your sweet spots. This was a surprise to Hyunjin because you're usually so on top of using protection and judging by the way you're rolling back to meet his thrust, moaning and whining like a baby and telling him to fuck you raw...oh you're definitely ovulating, it turns him on seeing you so desperate for his cum like this.

"Such a nasty girl, huh? Wanting me to fuck you raw"

He says lowly as he leans down and kisses your neck, You nod as you push back against him more.

"Oh my goddd...fuck I'm gonna cum, baby please~" You whine as you bury your face into the pillow.

"Please what?" He teases, leaning up against the shell of your ear, whispering into it knowing full well what you're asking for, He just likes to hear you say it.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This sex addict doesn't even notice a change. You two fuck so often that when you randomly want to go a couple more rounds than usual he thinks nothing of it.

"pleasee~ want you to fuck me againnn" you whine as you claw at his back, you've both cum like 4 times already and he's becoming sensitive but like I said, He doesn't stop. Overstimulating himself in your pussy is like a dream to him, he could do it for the rest of his life and die happy.

"Mm, gonna milk me fucking dry aren't you, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He would be a obvious to it at first, as he cuddles with you he notices that you groan when his head shifts on your chest...he look at you with his cute little concerned face before speaking

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" He asks softly, you chuckle and Shake your head

"No you're fine, my breast are just a bit sensitive..I'm ovulating" you admit and it all strarts to make sense why you've been so clingy and sensitive lately. His cheeks flush a light pink.

"Oh, I'm sorry, love" he apologizes as he pulls you closer to him, he kinda feels bad for not noticing sooner. He apologizes by burying his face in between those beautiful thighs of yours, eating you out till you cry 💖

"You always taste so good angel, cum on my face one more time, yeah?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘮𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He knows something is up when you become extremely clingy. It's something you always tend to do when that time comes around. You sit straddled on his lap as you softly make out, he doesn't question nor deny you when you're like this, who is he to turn down mind-blowing sex? He listens to everything you babble to him as he fucks into you.

"You want me to cum inside of you? I wanna hear you beg for it first~" He chuckles menacingly at your pathetic high pitched pleas.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This nasty boy operates as if he can ovulate too. It doesn't matter what you're wearing or how you look, he's gonna get rock hard just looking at you. You're doing laundry, throwing the clothes in the washer and you feel him sneak up behind you, already feeling his bulge press on your lower back.

"I just wanna bend you over this machine and fuck you right now" he whispers into your ear, nibbling on the lobe, you feel him push into you more, you bite your lip as his hands come up to knead your breast, you sigh in pleasure before pushing your ass against him.

"Then why don't you do it then?~" you grin as you turn you head back to meet his gaze, you certainly don't have to tell him twice, he fucks you like there's no tomorrow, like he'll never see you again. It's enough to leave your legs wobbly for a couple days but it's worth it

"Can you feel me deep inside you, baby? Gonna let me cum inside of you?"

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[strayingawayy]

businessman minho! x former one night stand reader (and soon to be spouse)

lee minho never expected his past to catch up with him—especially not in the form of an arranged marriage.

but when he meets his fiancé for the first time, he realises with growing horror that you’re not a stranger at all. in fact, years ago, back when he was young, reckless, and making very questionable choices, he had already spent one unforgettable night with you.

lee minho was not in the mood for this.

he had closed a multi-million-pound deal just this morning, survived a two hour meeting with the most insufferable board members known to mankind, and now, instead of going home, cracking open a bottle of good fucking whiskey, and basking in his own genius and in the company of his three feline children, he was being forced to meet his future spouse.

his arranged future spouse, to be precise.

because apparently, despite being one of the most successful businessmen in the country, his parents still thought he was too much of a liability to choose his own spouse. which, fair enough, considering his past as a… let’s call it enthusiastic participant in London’s nightlife. but still. the audacity.

so here he was, in some ridiculously expensive, Michelin-starred restaurant, waiting for his fiancé to arrive. he was expecting a stranger. some posh, uptight socialite who spoke in investment portfolios and probably smelled like expensive linen. he could deal with that. he had before.

what he was not expecting was for you to walk in.

because you were not a stranger. you were someone from a very specific, very chaotic chapter of his past. a one night stand he had never really forgotten...the one who had absolutely rocked his world back when he was young, reckless, and thought monogamy was a government scam.

and judging by the way your eyes widened the moment you saw him, you remembered him too.

minho exhaled sharply, closed his eyes for a second, and then, very eloquently, whispered under his breath,

"oh, for fu-"

...

this is going to be a chaotic ride of a fic or perhaps series and i am really really looking forward to it. if you're interested, comment below, or send an ask requesting to be in the taglist! hope you enjoy this one, sweethearts.

this fic shall have adult themes, so mdni.

[4linos]

between the lines 1

lee minho x fem!reader

synopsis: after a quiet and amicable separation, you and minho learn to navigate the subtle emotional terrain of co-parenting, discovering that the bonds between you aren’t entirely severed. when a new relationship enters the picture, old emotions come into play, forcing you to reassess what it means to truly move on.

warnings: angst, slow burn, emotional tension, jealousy.

wc: 5631

[between the lines 2, between the lines 3]

The first time you considered the possibility that you and Minho might not last forever, Hana was two and a half, screaming on the floor of the grocery store aisle because you wouldn’t let her open a bag of marshmallows. She’d skipped her nap. Your back hurt. You hadn’t eaten since morning.

And Minho was standing a few feet away, silent, tired, rubbing his temple in the way he always did when he was overwhelmed but didn’t want to show it.

You remember thinking: We are both so lonely, and we’re standing right next to each other.

It wasn’t a sudden epiphany. It didn’t make you pack your things or call a lawyer. But it planted something. A quiet awareness that hadn’t been there before. A realization that being in the same place didn’t always mean being together. That surviving parenthood wasn’t the same as growing closer. That love, real, sustaining love might not be enough on its own when the everyday grind had worn both of you thin.

You made it another six months.

And then came the conversation. The one that changed everything, though neither of you raised your voices. It happened on a rainy Thursday night, with Hana finally asleep in her little bed, her stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm, her breathing slow and peaceful in a way that made your chest ache.

You and Minho sat across from each other at the kitchen table, the air heavy between you.

You were the one to speak first.
“I think we need to talk.”

That alone was enough to make his posture shift, like he already knew what was coming.

“It’s not working, is it?” you asked. Not accusing. Just asking. Hoping that if you said it softly enough, it would hurt less.

Minho didn’t answer at first. He just looked down at his hands, which were resting on the table tensed, still. Then he nodded, just once.

“I’ve been trying to figure out when it stopped feeling like a marriage,” he admitted quietly. “I think I just kept hoping it would come back.”

You swallowed around the lump rising in your throat. “I don’t think it’s coming back.”

Silence again. But not an angry one. More like the pause between waves, where everything is held in suspension.

You looked at him, at the man who had held your hand through labor, who had taken turns feeding Hana in the middle of the night, who had sat next to you at every pediatrician appointment and knew the exact way she liked her pancakes cut.

You loved him. You would always love him.

But you weren’t in love anymore.

You weren’t sure when it had changed. Maybe it was the night she wouldn’t stop crying and you both sat on opposite ends of the couch, too exhausted to even speak. Maybe it was the way your conversations became about diapers, sleep schedules, school everything except each other.

Or maybe it was just that neither of you had the energy to keep reaching across a growing distance.

“I don’t want Hana to grow up thinking this is what love looks like,” you said finally.

Minho’s throat worked as he nodded again. His voice cracked a little. “Me neither.”

That was the thing, he wasn’t cruel. You weren’t unhappy because of anything he had done. It wasn’t betrayal or bitterness. It was the slow erosion of connection, the way life and parenting and exhaustion had worn down the parts of your relationship that had once made you feel like you belonged to each other.

You were roommates. Teammates. Co-parents.

But not partners. Not anymore.

You sat in the kitchen for a long time, talking through tears and through silence. Talking about Hana. About how she would always come first. About shared custody. About what it would mean to not come home to the same place, not make coffee in the same kitchen, not tuck her in side by side every night.

There was grief in every word, but also strange relief.

There was no fight. No slammed doors. No accusations.

Just two people who had loved, and tried, and grown apart without meaning to.

That night, Minho slept on the couch.

Not because you asked him to, but because it felt right. The beginning of the transition. The first step into what would become your new life.

The next morning, you made Hana’s breakfast together. Waffles, fruit, a little too much syrup. She didn’t notice anything had changed. She sat between you, babbling about a butterfly she’d seen at school, kicking her feet against the legs of the chair.

Minho smiled at her, reached to wipe a bit of syrup from her cheek.

And your heart broke a little, not because you were losing him, but because you knew you never fully had him, not in the way you thought.

And now, there was no going back.

But the strange, unexpected truth was this: you didn’t hate each other. There was no war between you. Just the quiet, gentle undoing of something that had been holding together for too long out of fear and habit.

You were going to do this. You were going to split your lives in two. And somehow, you’d stay whole, for Hana.

Even if it meant breaking your heart just a little, every day.

The first few weeks after Minho moved out were quiet. Too quiet.

Not in the way that brought peace, but in the way that pressed in around your ribs, reminding you of what was missing. Of the space that had opened up on the couch where he used to sit. Of the way his toothbrush was no longer beside yours. Of how bedtime with Hana was now something you did alone, one pair of hands where there used to be two.

She asked for him a lot in the beginning.

“Where’s Appa?”

“Why isn’t he here tonight?”

“Can he come for breakfast?”

You never lied. You just softened the truth.

“He’s at his house tonight, sweetheart.”

“He’ll come pick you up tomorrow.”

“He always loves you, no matter where he is.”

You kept your voice steady even when your chest ached. Because this, this was your choice. And Minho’s. And you had promised each other that no matter how hard it got, Hana would come first. Always.

The first custody exchange was awkward.

You packed her overnight bag with too much three outfits, her favorite books, two stuffed animals, backup pajamas, her dinosaur toothbrush. You labeled everything. Left a note for Minho: She didn’t nap today. Give her a snack before bed or she’ll wake up early. Extra socks in the front pocket.

He showed up exactly on time, looking like he hadn’t slept much. He hovered in the doorway, hands in his pockets, eyes drifting over the apartment like it was both familiar and foreign now.

Hana ran into his arms, squealing with delight.

Minho’s eyes met yours over her head, and for a moment, there was something unbearably fragile in his expression. Something that looked like guilt, or grief, or just quiet devastation.

“I’ve got her,” he said gently. “I’ll bring her back Sunday night.”

You nodded, smiling even though your throat was tight. “She’s excited. Don’t let her trick you into giving her two desserts.”

“I make no promises,” he said with a small laugh, and for a second, just a second, it felt like old times.

But then they were gone, and you were standing in the doorway alone.

The silence afterward was staggering. You wandered through the apartment as if it belonged to someone else. Cleaned dishes that weren’t dirty. Reorganized a drawer. Ate dinner standing at the counter. Told yourself this was just the beginning. That it would get easier.

And, in some ways, it did.

You and Minho started texting more. At first, it was just about logistics, drop-offs, schedules, what size shoes Hana had suddenly jumped to.

But then it morphed into something else. Little moments.

Minho:
She drew a rocket ship today. Said she’s going to the moon and taking you with her.

You:
Only if she packs snacks. She gets hangry.

Minho:
She’s yours then.

You:
Coward.

There were jokes again. Shared photos. Voice memos of Hana singing off-key in the car. Slowly, the tension faded, replaced with something steadier, something you could almost call a friendship.

Not romantic. Not really.

But intimate, in the way that only two people who love the same child with their whole hearts could be.

You found your rhythm.

Exchanging her favorite snacks. Making sure she had her favorite sleep toy. Texting each other at the exact same time when she got sick with a cold and neither of you wanted to leave her alone.

You didn’t expect how often Minho would still feel like a constant in your life. Even without the title. Even without the home.

Birthdays became the strangest kind of sacred ground.

The first one post-separation, you debated whether to have separate celebrations. But the idea felt wrong.

So you hosted together. Rented a room at a small play café. Brought cupcakes and balloons. Watched Hana run wild in a princess costume that was already unraveling at the seams.

You were worried it would be awkward. But it wasn’t.

Minho handed you tape when the banner fell down. You took turns cutting cake. You didn’t need to explain anything to anyone because it worked.

At the end of the party, Hana opened her arms wide and declared, “This is the best day ever!”

You and Minho both laughed, both crouched down to hug her, both looked at each other over her head.

It hit you then: this was still a family.

Not broken. Not perfect. But real.

Sometimes, people asked.

“So… are you and Minho ever getting back together?”

You always shook your head.
“No. We’re better this way.”

And mostly, you believed that.

You liked the ease. The clarity. You liked being able to make decisions for yourself again. To not feel like you were trying to force something to fit that no longer did.

You weren’t waiting for him.

And as far as you could tell, he wasn’t waiting for you either.

That was the deal.

And yet, there were moments.

Small ones.

Like the time Hana fell asleep on the couch between you, her little hands curled into both of yours, and Minho looked at you with a softness that made your breath hitch. Or the time he fixed the heater in your apartment without asking, just because he knew you were tired and it was cold.

Those moments lived in the corners of your mind, quiet and persistent. You never said anything. Neither did he.

You had made peace with what you were.

Two parallel lines.

Running side by side.

Never crossing again.

Or so you thought.

It happened on a Wednesday. One of those in-between days when nothing significant is supposed to happen, no birthdays, no big milestones, just a quick stop for coffee before school pickup.

You weren’t expecting anything. Certainly not him.

The café was almost empty, the way it always was in that strange lull between lunch and evening, when people drifted in with laptops or last-minute meetings. You were just trying to stay awake. Hana had been up half the night with a fever that had finally broken at dawn, and the weight of your exhaustion clung to your limbs like something physical.

You stood there, half-dazed, reading the menu even though you already knew what you wanted. You were still in your softest hoodie, the one with a faint juice stain on the sleeve you hadn’t had time to scrub out, your hair shoved into a clip, makeup forgotten.

That’s when he spoke.

“You’re either having a really good day or a really bad one,” he said, with a friendly, lopsided smile and a cup already in his hand.

You looked up, blinking. He was a little older than you, mid-thirties, maybe. Clean lines, warm eyes. Kind-looking, though you’d learned not to trust that right away.

You huffed a breath that was halfway to a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only because I’ve had both kinds,” he said. “And I usually end up here either way.”

You offered a tired smile. “Then I guess we’re both regulars in the land of mediocre Wednesdays.”

He laughed at that. Not too loud. Just enough to make something ease inside you.

You placed your order. He didn’t push, didn’t linger too long. But when your drinks were ready, and he reached for a napkin, he glanced at you again. Hesitated.

Then he said, “I’m Jisung.”

You hesitated too. There was something in the way he said it, open, but not expectant.

So you told him your name.

You ended up sitting for a few minutes. Fifteen, maybe twenty. Talking about nothing at all favorite books, your mutual disdain for the newer version of the transit app, how the weather kept teasing spring and then snapping back to winter.

And then, just as you were getting ready to go, he said it.

“I know this is forward. But I’d really like to see you again. Would you be okay giving me your number?”

Your first instinct was to say no.

Not because he wasn’t kind. Not because you weren’t interested.

But because he didn’t know.

Didn’t know that your days were split between pickup times and pediatrician appointments, bedtime routines and shared custody schedules. Didn’t know that you carried a small pink backpack in your trunk at all times. That your heart had been broken, not just by Minho, but by the slow understanding that you weren’t the person you used to be.

You weren’t single. Not in the way most people meant it.

You had a daughter.

So you said it, simply. Carefully.

“I should tell you… I have a three-year-old. Her name’s Hana. She’s my whole world.”

There was a pause.

You watched his face closely, the way people do when they’re waiting for someone to flinch.

But Jisung didn’t.

He nodded, once, slowly. “Thank you for telling me.”

And then, “That’s not a dealbreaker. Not even close.”

You stared at him, unsure what to say. Most people tried to hide their discomfort behind politeness. But he just sipped his coffee like it was nothing.

“You’re not surprised?” you asked finally.

He smiled again, softer this time. “I have a niece. She’s four. My sister raised her on her own for the first couple years. So… I know it’s not easy. I also know it doesn’t mean you stopped being a person outside of being a parent.”

That..that was what got you.

The way he said it. Like you were still allowed to be.

You handed him your number before you could second-guess it.

And when you walked out into the late afternoon wind, you didn’t feel giddy. You didn’t feel swept off your feet.

But you felt something else.

Like maybe, just maybe, there was a space in your life for something new. Not a replacement. Not a fairytale.

Just something small and honest and real.

You didn’t tell Hana, not yet. There was no reason to. You were cautious now, and rightfully so. The last thing you wanted was to start something that would unravel too quickly.

But when Jisung texted you later that night, it made you smile.

Hope your Wednesday ended better than it started.
Next coffee’s on me.

And you found yourself typing back before you even realized it.

Only if you’re ready to hear more about unicorn Band-Aids and toddler opinions on cheese.

He replied almost instantly.

Try me.

You didn’t know what this was going to become.

You only knew this: he hadn’t run.

And that, in itself, felt like the beginning of something worth noticing.

-

You didn’t expect how quickly it would happen with Jisung.

Not love. Not even something as weighty as hope.

Just… lightness. The kind you hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind that came from being seen as someone other than a mother, other than a tired co-parent, other than a woman halfway rebuilt from the ground up.

It started with texting.

Short at first. Polite. Careful.

But then it grew.

Jisung was funny. Thoughtful in ways you hadn’t realized you’d missed, remembering small things you'd said in passing, asking follow-up questions that showed he was really listening, sending you photos of his niece’s drawings captioned, “Future gallery opening. No big deal.”

You told him about your favorite childhood movie and he watched it that same night, texting you commentary like a live broadcast. You mentioned a place you always meant to try for takeout, and he offered to bring it to the park one day, with enough snacks for Hana if she came along.

You hadn’t said yes yet. But you didn’t say no either.

There was a night, three days after that first coffee, when he said something so unexpected it caught you mid-laugh.

You don’t have to split yourself in two to be worth knowing, you know that, right?

You stared at the screen longer than you meant to. You didn’t respond right away. You didn’t know how to.

But later that night, as you lay in bed alone, peaceful, not lonely for once, you realized it had been a long time since anyone made you feel whole without asking you to prove you deserved it.

And it showed. Apparently.

Minho noticed.

Not all at once. Not in any obvious way. But subtly, in the way someone who used to know you better than anyone always notices the small shifts first.

It was the way you answered the door when he arrived for the next pickup. Hair loose, smile soft, phone still in your hand from a message you hadn’t finished reading.

The way your laugh slipped out easier, fuller, like it hadn’t had to squeeze itself through exhaustion first.

The way you stood a little taller, like you weren’t carrying quite so much anymore.

Minho didn’t say anything at first.

He watched quietly as Hana launched herself into his arms, chattering about snacks and sidewalk chalk and how she saw a squirrel that “definitely waved at her” from the tree outside.

You knelt beside her to zip up her backpack, brushing hair from her face, your phone buzzing once in your pocket. And you smiled.

Not at Minho.

At the message you hadn’t even read yet.

That’s when he felt it. A strange, quiet pinch. Not jealousy, he wouldn’t call it that. Not exactly. He had no claim. You’d made your peace. He had, too. Mostly.

But there was something else. A realization, sharp and unwelcome: someone else was making you smile like that.

Someone new.

So as you handed Hana her favorite stuffed animal and stood to walk them to the door, Minho glanced sideways at you and said, casually, “You’ve seemed… lighter lately.”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He shrugged, one arm around Hana, the other tucking her blanket tighter beneath his elbow. “I don’t know. Just… seems like a good week.”

You tried not to react. But he saw it anyway, the flicker of something in your eyes. Maybe surprise. Maybe guilt. You weren’t sure why it felt that way.

“Been keeping busy,” you said lightly, brushing it off. “Work stuff. Mom stuff.”

He nodded, like he believed you. Like he wanted to believe you.

But then he added, almost offhand, “Someone making you smile like that must be doing a pretty good job.”

You froze for half a second too long.

Then gave a quiet laugh, not meeting his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Minho didn’t press. He never had been the type to dig where he wasn’t welcome.

But the silence that followed carried something unspoken.

Because it wasn’t nothing. He knew that.

And maybe that was what unsettled him the most.

Not that you were moving on.

But that you were really moving on. And that he wasn’t sure when, exactly, he’d stopped being a part of your inner world, the one that lit you up from the inside out, even when you didn’t notice it yourself.

He stood there for a moment longer than necessary. Then said, “I’ll text if she asks for the green blanket. I think it’s still in your laundry basket.”

You nodded. “I will.”

He turned toward the door, Hana bouncing in his arms, and as he walked out, you felt the familiar ache rise in your chest.

But it was different now. Not grief. Not loss.

Just the echo of something that used to be yours.

And maybe, just maybe the shape of what was coming next.

It had been years, actual, measurable years since you’d dressed up like this.

Not for a work function, not for a rushed dinner where you had to check your watch every ten minutes to make sure you got home before the sitter left, not for a birthday party where you'd spend most of the time cutting fruit and wiping sticky fingers.

But for you.

For something that felt new.

For someone who looked at you like you were still a whole person, not just a parent navigating the aftermath of a quiet ending.

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric of your dress with palms that felt a little too warm. Your hair was curled soft, loose, deliberate. The kind of effort you hadn’t made in so long you’d forgotten how it felt to do it without a reason tied to someone else’s needs.

You had makeup on.

Not the rushed concealer and mascara you slapped on in the five minutes between school drop-off and morning meetings, but the kind you actually sat down to apply. Lipstick. A little blush. You almost didn’t recognize your own reflection. Not in a bad way. Just in the way that made you realize how long it had been since you’d prioritized seeing yourself like this.

And your heart beat just a little faster than usual, because Jisung was waiting. A real dinner. An actual date. Your first since everything.

You had texted him earlier, half excited, half nervous “I might forget how to flirt. Fair warning.”

He’d replied, “That’s okay. I’ve got enough awkward charm for both of us.”

And then, as if summoned by your anticipation, there was a knock at the door.

Except… you hadn’t heard your phone buzz.

You walked over, heels clicking softly on the floor, a final glance in the mirror before you opened it.

And then everything paused.

There, standing in the hallway, was Minho.

Not Jisung.

Minho, wearing his work jacket, looking slightly winded, as if he’d come up the stairs too fast. In his arms, curled against his chest, was Hana. Asleep. Cheek pressed to his shoulder, mouth slightly open, hair mussed from what must’ve been a long day.

You blinked, confused, your hand still on the doorframe.

Minho blinked back. And then he stared.

His eyes moved over your face, your dress, your hair. His expression froze somewhere between surprise and something harder to name.

“You’re…” he started, then stopped.

You were equally stunned.

“What’s going on?” you asked, voice soft as you glanced down at Hana, trying not to raise it too much.

“I—I had to come early,” he said quickly, adjusting his grip on her. “I got called into work. Last-minute shift. I—I texted you, but maybe you didn’t see—”

You swallowed, brain trying to catch up. “No, it’s okay. I just didn’t check my phone.”

Minho nodded. But he was still staring.

And for a moment, neither of you said anything.

Because he’d seen you in pajamas. In nursing bras. In sweats stained with juice and grief. He had seen you in all your rawest forms tired, stretched thin, unfiltered.

But this?

This version of you, lipstick soft and subtle, eyes bright, dress fitting in that way that made it clear you’d chosen it not just for practicality but for feeling, this was not one he’d seen in a long, long time.

And it startled him.

“I’ll… take her,” you said gently, reaching out.

He hesitated just a second longer, as if anchoring himself in the weight of her before letting go.

“She’s out cold,” he murmured. “Didn’t even make it through the drive.”

You nodded, carefully transferring Hana to your shoulder. Her small body nestled against you without resistance. You ran your hand down her back in soothing circles.

Minho didn’t leave.

He stood in the doorway, watching you rock her, his hands now empty.

“You look…” he started again, then cleared his throat. “Nice. I mean—you look nice.”

You gave a half-smile, focusing on keeping Hana settled.

He shifted his weight. “Were you… going somewhere?”

Your heart pinched, not because you owed him anything, but because there was something in his voice. A softness, yes. But also a quiet pull, something unspoken that hovered just behind the words.

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t want to lie. But you didn’t want to explain either.

Minho’s gaze didn’t waver. And in the silence, he figured it out.

The realization didn’t fall like a hammer. It arrived like a tug. Gentle. Persistent. Sharp in its precision.

“You were meeting someone,” he said quietly.

Still no answer.

Your silence was the confirmation.

He looked down. Exhaled. A short, barely-there breath, as if he’d braced for it and still felt it anyway.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said finally. “I really did try to give you a heads-up.”

“I know,” you said softly. “It’s okay. She comes first.”

He nodded. “Yeah. She does.”

But neither of you said what you were both thinking:

That even now, even with everything changed, there were still parts of each other that lingered. Quiet shadows in the corners of new lives.

He turned to go. Paused at the stairs.

“I’ll be done around noon Sunday,” he said without looking back. “I can come pick her up then.”

“Okay.”

And then he was gone.

You watched the door close.

You stood there for a moment, still holding Hana, feeling her soft breaths against your neck. Then you carefully laid her in her bed, brushing a curl from her face. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake.

You checked your phone. One missed text.

Jisung:

I’m already here, no rush. Take your time.

Your throat tightened.

You called.

He picked up on the second ring, cheerful. “Hey, did you get lost?”

And then he heard the apology in your voice before you said a word.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I can’t make it. Something came up with my daughter and I—”

“Hey, hey,” he said gently, cutting you off. “It’s okay. Really.”

“No, I feel awful. You came all this way—”

“And I got to see the sunset and listen to my favorite playlist. Not a waste.”

You laughed, small and tired. “I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“So was I,” he admitted. “But I’ve got time. We’ll try again. No pressure.”

You hung up a few minutes later, reassured by the ease in his voice, the lack of disappointment, the way he didn’t make you feel like a burden.

You walked back to the living room, heels still on, makeup still perfect.

But the night was quiet again.

And despite everything, despite Jisung’s warmth, despite the newness that had started to take root, your thoughts kept drifting back to the man who had stood at your door, holding the child you both loved more than anything, looking at you like he’d never quite seen you before.

You poured yourself a glass of wine. Sat down on the couch. Closed your eyes.

And breathed.

Because the line between what was and what could be had never felt thinner.

-

The apartment was quiet again the next morning.

Hana woke up early, too early for a Saturday, but you didn’t mind. You made pancakes, her favorite, cutting them into little stars with the cookie cutters she insisted on using lately. You let her pour too much syrup, ignored the sticky fingers on the table, and braided her hair while she babbled about a dream she had.

You didn’t tell her about last night. She didn’t need to know you had to cancel plans. That you’d stood in the hallway watching the space where Minho had been, heart doing something you didn’t know how to name. She didn’t need to know how long it took you to take your makeup off, or how the curls in your hair stayed long after you fell asleep on the couch, still dressed.

You let it all go, for her.

That afternoon, after cartoons and crafts and one very glitter-heavy art project, you took her to the park. It was a habit now fresh air, a safe routine, a way to let her run out her energy before the inevitable bedtime protest.

She was climbing the jungle gym when you saw him.

Minho.

You almost didn’t recognize him at first, hood pulled up, headphones around his neck, looking a little rumpled in a way that said he’d just finished a shift and hadn’t meant to be seen. But he spotted you instantly.

You weren’t expecting him until the next day.

Still, he walked toward you, hands in his pockets, something hesitant in his expression.

“Hey,” he said.

You smiled, surprised but not unwelcome. “Hey. Thought you were working until tomorrow.”

“I got off early. Thought I’d come by and see if you two were around.”

You glanced toward Hana, who had now spotted her dad and was waving with both arms, squealing his name. Minho grinned and waved back, already stepping forward to meet her.

They played for a while, the two of them slipping into their easy rhythm, him chasing her in slow motion, letting her tackle him dramatically onto the grass, her laughter echoing.

You sat on the bench and watched, something warm and complicated curling in your chest.

When she finally wore herself out and asked for juice, Minho offered to go grab some from the little market across the street. She nodded sleepily, curling against your side, and he jogged off.

He came back with two juice boxes.

And a bottle of iced tea, for you.

He handed it to you casually, like it didn’t mean anything. Like he hadn’t memorized your favorites, even now.

“Thanks,” you said.

He shrugged. “Figured you’d want something cold.”

The sun was starting to dip, casting the park in long shadows. Hana was drawing in the dirt with a stick now, humming to herself.

Minho sat beside you on the bench, a comfortable silence settling.

And then, after a few minutes, he asked it.

“You were going on a date, weren’t you?”

You looked down at the bottle in your hands. Twisted the cap. “Yeah.”

He nodded slowly. “Is it serious?”

“No,” you said. “Not yet. Just… new.”

Minho stared out at the playground. “Is he good to you?”

The question caught you off guard, not just that he asked, but how quietly he did. Not possessive. Not jealous. Just… careful.

You turned toward him. “Yeah. He’s kind.”

Minho nodded again. “That’s good. That’s… good.”

You both sat there, the air heavier now.

And then he said, “You looked beautiful last night.”

You froze.

He didn’t look at you when he said it. Just kept watching Hana, his expression unreadable.

“I know I shouldn’t say that,” he added, voice low. “But it’s true.”

You didn’t know what to do with the ache that bloomed in your chest at his words. The softness. The honesty.

“I didn’t expect to feel anything,” he said after a beat. “But I saw you, and it just—hit me.”

You swallowed. “Minho…”

He finally turned to you then, and something in his eyes cracked open. Something vulnerable. Something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Do you ever wonder,” he asked, “if we gave up too soon?”

The question lingered between you like fog, thick, slow, impossible to ignore.

You looked at him. Really looked.

At the man who had once been your everything.

At the man who still showed up. Still knew your drink. Still remembered how to hold your daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And you wanted to say: Yes. I wonder all the time.

But instead, you said: “I think we gave what we had. And then we gave some more. And maybe we ran out of things to give.”

He nodded, but the pain in his eyes didn’t go away.

“I miss her,” he said. “Even when I just saw her yesterday.”

And you knew he didn’t just mean Hana.

You nodded. “I miss us sometimes, too.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “I think maybe that’s what’s hardest. Missing something that still kind of exists… just not the way it used to.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.

Because you were terrified of saying the wrong thing.

Of opening a door you weren’t sure you had the strength to close again.

Hana came running over then, breaking the tension. “I’m tired,” she whined, arms outstretched.

You stood up, lifting her into your arms. She nestled her head into your shoulder immediately.

Minho stood too.

You walked to the parking lot together, silence wrapping around you like a shared memory.

When you reached your car, you opened the door and placed Hana gently in her seat, buckling her in as she blinked sleepily.

Minho watched.

And just before you got in the driver’s seat, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded.

But you didn’t look back as you drove away.

Because you didn’t want him to see the tears you weren’t sure how to explain.

//

masterlist.

❌proofread

[official taglist: @alisonyus @lenfilms ..]

[hyunniesamericano]

Fat, Juicy and His

Pairing: dom!Lee Know x fem!reader

Genre : Smut

Word count: 1.2k

Content warnings: breeding kink, public setting (venue restroom), mirror play, rough sex, possessive/dominant Minho, dirty talk, established relationship.

Summary:After the final concert of LATAM SKZ’s tour, you tease him one too many times at the little afterparty — and when that song plays, he finally snaps, dragging you into the bathroom to remind you who you belong to.

A/n : the rat challenge minsung did something to me. Jisung’s fic up next — pray for me. You can read it here😊

The bass hit deep in your chest, vibrating through the floors of the private rooftop venue. Champagne fizzed in crystal flutes, the sky twinkled with stars above, and laughter echoed between the walls as the final night of Stray Kids’ LATAM tour came to a close in pure celebration. The boys had pulled out all the stops for this little afterparty , their girlfriends and boyfriends included and for once, it wasn’t about work. It was just about fun, release, and maybe a little debauchery.

And from the moment the party started, Minho’s eyes hadn’t left you.

You wore that dress — the one he told you to save for him, the one that hugged your curves like it had been painted on, short enough that he could see the crease where your thighs met. Glossy lips, smoky eyes, and that confident sway of your hips that made him feral.

He should’ve known you were going to test him tonight.

You’d danced just a little too close to Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Whispered something in Chan’s ear that had him choking on his drink. Laughed too loud, smiled too pretty, and every time your eyes found Minho’s across the room, you smirked like you were daring him to do something about it.

But it was when that song started playing that he truly snapped.

"Fat, juicy, and wet..."

The second the beat dropped, your body responded like it had been waiting. You swayed with the rhythm, hips rolling in lazy figure-eights, mouthing the lyrics while staring directly at your boyfriend. Your tongue dragged slowly across your bottom lip, the tip of your finger tracing the rim of your glass. Subtle. Deliberate.

Minho set his drink down.

You saw him push his chair back. Smooth and slow. Not a word to the others , just his eyes locked on you, sharp and burning.

He walked straight over, slid a hand around your waist, and leaned into your ear.

"You’ve got five seconds to stop before I fuck you in front of everyone."

Your smirk deepened.

Wrong move.

He grabbed your wrist, muttered “bathroom. Now.” and dragged you past the others without a glance back.

The restroom was dimly lit, with earthy tones and a sleek row of sinks under a soft, warm light. The door clicked shut, muting the noise of the party outside.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Minho turned you, caging you against the counter with his body.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" he growled, voice low and dark.

You blinked innocently. "Dancing."

He chuckled ,humorless before his hand slipped between your thighs. He didn’t bother being gentle. His fingers found your soaked panties and pressed down hard.

"This what dancing does to you, baby?" he murmured, mouth grazing your cheek. "You get this wet grinding to songs like that? In front of my friends?"

You gasped when he dragged your panties aside and ran two fingers through your folds, slow and teasing.

"Fat, juicy, and wet," he said, echoing the lyrics with a wicked smirk. "Say it."

You swallowed hard.

"Say it, baby. I wanna hear you."

"I’m… I’m fat, juicy, and wet," you whispered, cheeks flushed.

Minho groaned — deep, filthy, hungry. He yanked your panties down and let them fall to your heels.

"Good girl."

He dropped to his knees, big hands spreading your thighs, tongue dragging up your pussy like he was starved. You cried out, hands gripping the edge of the counter as his mouth worked you open. He moaned into your cunt, lips and tongue relentless, sucking your clit just the way you liked.

"Minho—fuck—someone could hear—"

"Let them," he growled, not stopping for a second. "Let them know who you fucking belong to."

He stood, chest heaving, chin glistening with you. He yanked your dress up around your waist and bent you over the counter.

The mirror in front of you reflected everything — your flushed face, mussed hair, parted lips. The feral look in Minho’s eyes.

"Watch yourself," he ordered, already unzipping his pants. "I want you to see what I do to this pussy."

He lined himself up and pressed inside in one smooth thrust. You gasped, knuckles white on the counter as he filled you to the hilt.

"Fucking tight," he groaned, gripping your hips hard. "So perfect. So wet. You like teasing me in public? Showing off for the others?"

You moaned as he started thrusting, hard and deep, his grip bruising on your skin. Each snap of his hips sent shockwaves through you.

"You’re mine," he growled. "My pussy. My girl. My cum."

Your legs trembled, the stretch of him making your walls flutter. "Yours, Minho—fuck—I'm yours—"

He leaned over you, hand slipping around your throat as his hips slammed into yours. "You wanna act like a slut in public? Then you take my cum like one."

"Please—please fill me up," you begged. "Breed me, Minho—want your cum inside me—"

His growl turned animalistic. One hand fisted your hair, yanking your head up to face the mirror.

"Look at yourself," he ordered. "Look at how fucking desperate you are. This pussy’s so wet for me...begging to be filled."

You whimpered, watching the way your body bounced with each thrust, your face wrecked with pleasure, mouth open, eyes glassy.

"You want it, baby? Wanna be so full you feel me dripping down your thighs?"

"Yes—please—fuck, Minho, I need it—"

He reached around and rubbed your clit, fast and tight circles that had your knees buckling.

"Cum for me," he growled. "Milk my cock, baby. Show me how much this pussy loves getting used."

You shattered.Your orgasm hit like a freight train, body convulsing, walls clenching around him. You screamed his name, high and broken, as he fucked you through it.

"Good fucking girl," he groaned, pace stuttering. "Gonna cum—gonna fill you up, baby—take it—fuck—"

With a final deep thrust, he spilled inside you, hips jerking as he pumped you full.

The air filled with the sound of panting, your bodies trembling, your thighs slick with a mix of arousal and cum.

He pulled out slowly, watching his release drip from your pussy. He grabbed your panties from the floor, used them to wipe your inner thighs clean, then tucked them into your purse with a smirk.

"You’re not wearing these again tonight."

He fixed your dress, pressed a kiss to your temple, and whispered, "Next time you tease me like that in public, I’m bending you over the DJ booth."

You laughed breathlessly, still trembling, still full."Yes, sir."

He smirked, leaned down, and whispered against your lips,“Next time, don’t make me remind you who you belong to.”

[fluffylino]

pussy drunk minho

he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~

-contains mature themes

"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.

now that was a lie.

"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.

"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.

"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.

"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.

"deal"

"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.

the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.

if he could dom you. you could dom him.

his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."

so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.

"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.

minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.

and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.

a lie honestly.

his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.

it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.

.

.

the day one was fine.

he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.

day three was when you noticed him staring.

you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.

so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.

eyes locked onto your covered heat.

"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.

"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.

when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.

"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.

.

"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.

"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.

"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.

stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.

.

.

"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.

first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.

"are you gonna be a goo-"

"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.

"yes yes. now can i-"

"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.

"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.

"promise?"

"hmmmm"

you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.

"wh-"

his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.

inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.

using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.

a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.

"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.

"may i...please?"

you nodded. satisfied.

.

you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.

nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.

so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.

"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.

you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.

"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.

pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.

"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.

"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.

his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.

a muffled whimper escaping him.

"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.

"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.

lips swollen and red.

"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.

"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"

"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.

"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.

"c-come on kitty, make me cum"

you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.

a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.

nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.

small little whines leaving him at your taste.

"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.

"good k-kitty?"

"did so good for me"

.

.

"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"

"AHAH SO I WON-"

.

.

.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Too Far ~ LMH

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Minho x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Minho was always the same with you—sharp words, quick jabs, endless teasing, it was just how your relationship had been for as long as you could remember. His playful insults had always been something you could brush off, masking your feelings behind a smile. After all, you were in love with him, and a small part of you liked the attention that would come from him, even if it came in the form of teasing.

But recently, things have changed...a lot. Life was heavier, the weight on your shoulders making it harder to pretend everything was fine and yet you hadn't voiced it to him. You thought maybe he'd sense that you weren't in the mood lately and he would stop but he did.

Minho’s teasing didn’t sting before, but now… now it felt like someone was squeezing a lemon on a wound that was already raw.

Today had been the final straw. You'd finally snapped and had enough of everything.

You sat with the group, the usual chatter filling the room. Minho, as always, was sitting across from you, smirking like he always did when he was about to say something. And he did, some offhanded comment about how you always seemed to be distracted lately, how you weren’t even able to keep up with the conversation anymore.

"Maybe you’re just not smart enough to follow along?" he joked, the words light in his tone but heavy in their impact. It hit deeper than it should have, but being teased for your brain was always something that you'd gotten in school and it made you feel...small. Useless and insignificant to him. That coupled with the stress from everything else, the sleepless nights, the anxiety you hadn’t shared with anyone—not even him—it all bubbled up inside you, and for the first time, you couldn’t laugh it off.

"Maybe you should just stop talking," you snapped, your voice much sharper than you intended. The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at you in surprise. Chan stared at you in shock, he'd always been there telling you to stand your ground against Minho but you'd never do it...until now. Minho blinked, taken aback, scoffing softly as he tried to play everything off as a casual joke.

"Woah, I was just kidding."

"Yeah, well, it’s not funny anymore," you muttered, standing up quickly. You shuffled your stuff around until you gathered it all up, you couldn’t stay there, not with everyone’s eyes on you and Minho’s confused expression making it worse. Without another word, you left the room, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

You didn’t hear Minho calling your name as you left.

"What the fuck was that about?!" Minho snapped at the others who all looked at him with sheepish looks. It was clear to anyone with a working set of eyes that you weren't in the mood for his games.

"She's had enough, Minho. God, last week I found her crying in her apartment." Felix grumbled and the comment hit him harder than he thought it would have. The idea of you crying because of something he said made his stomach twist and turn.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Hyung...In all due respect, I thought you hated her," Felix mutters a little and it was then that Minho realised just how far he had taken things. That if his own friends couldn't tell where the lines blurred then there was no chance in hell you would have been able to either and he'd fucked up...big time.

"I'll call her...S-She'll answer. She always does." He mutters, dragging his phone out of his pocket and calling you. That was one thing he could always rely on, you always picked up the phone no matter the time, no matter what day you answered him.

Except, this time.

You didn't.

It had been three days since the incident, and you’d been avoiding everyone—especially him. He’d tried to call, text, and even show up at your place, but you didn’t want to talk. You'd sent back all of the presents he'd sent to you and when the florist stated they couldn't take the flowers you donated them to a hosptial and the nursing home down the street.

You couldn't deal with anyone or anything right now. Especially not to him, no one who spoke to him because you knew that they would try and talk to you about it and relax you. Right now, you needed space and time to sort through everything without the added weight of Minho’s teasing hanging over you.

But it didn’t stop the ache in your chest every single time you thought about him. The desperate urge to run back there and forgive him like you always did in the past but this time you wanted to stand your ground. You wanted him to realise that the weight of his words had an effect on you.

But despite everything, you missed him. His stupid jokes, the way he made everyone laugh, the way he made you feel noticed, even if it was in the most frustrating ways. The way he'd always see you even when you thought you were invisible to everyone else around you. But you couldn’t forget the hurt he'd put you through. While he might have made you feel visible he was blind to everything else, he didn’t realize you were struggling and he never saw beyond his teasing to see what you were going through.

Meanwhile, back at the dorms, Minho was losing it. He wasn’t used to this—used to you being upset with him. You were always there, always able to take his jokes, always smiling despite his teasing. But this time… this time he’d messed up. And he had no idea how to fix it. Everything he tried to do failed. The bears were returned to the store, the florist told him you'd donated the flowers and the takeout he sent to you was always given to the homeless. Nothing was working.

The guilt gnawed at him, he found himself unable to sleep or eat. The more time passed, the more he realized how blind to what he was doing to you. He missed you, more than he cared to admit, and with that realization came another...something he hadn’t fully accepted before.

"You're dumb," Felix told him as they sat across from each other in the living room. Minho had just finished confessing all of the conflicting feelings he was feeling,

"How am I dumb?!" he snapped angrily,

"You're in love with her, you dumb bitch." Felix laughed a little and Minho sat there. His mouth open as he tried to deny it but the more he thought about it...the more he realised Felix was right.

He cared about you. More than just as a friend. More than just someone he could joke around with. He was in love with you...head over heels in love and now, he might have lost you because of his own stupidity.

That same night Minho found you at the park, sitting in the same spot you always went to when you needed to clear your head. It was the same park he would go to with you sometimes, you'd taken him one night when he needed to clear his head and he'd followed you blindly.

You didn’t see him at first, too lost in your thoughts about him, but when you did, you immediately stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait, please," Minho’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He'd been tempted to reach his hand out and touch you but he stopped himself, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You turned to look at him, there was something different in his tone—something softer, almost desperate.

You hesitated but sat back down on the bench, your eyes on your hands as he slowly approached, stopping a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets like they always were when he was nervous.

"I messed up," he started, his voice quiet. You scoffed a little,

"Fucked up,"

"Yn," He chuckled softly, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed your voice, even if it was just scolding him for something.

"I know I did. I didn’t realize… I didn’t know you were going through something." You looked away, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

"It’s not just about that, Minho. You always tease me, always make me feel… small. And I never said anything because I didn’t want to make it awkward. But I can’t take it anymore. Not right now." The rawness in your voice hit him hard, and his hands twitched at his sides, he wanted to reach out and comfort you but he forced himself to stay still. He’d never realized the extent of his teasing, how much it might have hurt you. He always thought it was just fun, that you were okay with it because you never said anything.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice cracking. He knew that there was no apology in the world that he could give that would have made all of this better but he wasn't going to stop until you forgave him.

"I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been paying more attention, instead of just thinking I could joke around all the time. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you." You stayed silent, your eyes fixed on the ground. Minho took a step closer, his heart pounding, there was no way he could lose, not like this. Not when he finally understood how much you meant to him.

"I miss you," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He'd been trying to think of what he was going to say to you but the words were lost on him, nothing felt as though it would be good enough to make up for what he'd done.

"I miss being around you, even if all I ever did was make dumb jokes. And… I’ve realized something else." You glanced up at him, and he took a deep breath.

"I’m in love with you...I don’t know when it happened, or how, but I know that’s what this is. And I’m sorry it took me hurting you to figure that out." Your breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise. You'd always dreamt of hearing this from him but this, of all the things you expected him to say,  wasn’t one of them.

"I’ll do anything to make it right," Minho continued, his voice soft and sincere. "I don’t want to lose you. Not like this...Please,"

For a long moment, you just stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto the hurt and make him pay for hurting you. But the other part of you—the part that still loved him—could see how much he was trying. How much he meant what he was saying.

"I don’t know, Minho. I need time… to figure things out." He nodded, stepping back, respecting the boundaries that you were putting in place for him,

"I get it. Take all the time you need. Just… don’t shut me out forever, okay?" You gave him a small nod, and for the first time in days, a bit of the tension between you eased. It wasn’t fixed yet, but it was a good enough start for him.

After the first few weeks of your time in the park with him, you kept your distance, and Minho respected that, he didn't push you into anything you didn't want to do. There was no pressure, no sudden visits, just the space you asked for. But even though he gave you the time to think, Minho didn’t stop trying.

Day after day, there would be small signs that he hadn’t forgotten and was doing his best to grovel for you.

One day there was a bouquet of your favorite flowers at your doorstep. There was no note, but you knew it was from him, of course it was. It wasn’t grand like the last time. It was a simple bouquet and, just simple daisies, the ones you always loved but rarely treated yourself to.

The next day, there was a text from Minho.

I hope the flowers didn’t freak you out. Just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. I'll wait however long it takes.

You didn’t respond, but something about the gesture warmed your heart, even if you weren’t ready to fully forgive him yet.

He started showing up at your favourite café, but always at a distance.  You’d walk in, spot him sitting at a table across the room, and feel the familiar flutter in your chest. He never approached you, only offering a nod or a small smile if you caught his eye. But he was there. Every day.

Eventually, you texted him.

You don’t have to do this, you know.

His reply was quick.

I know. But I want to. xx

The distance between you began to shrink day after day, week after week and you found yourself lingering at the café, sitting just a few tables away instead of on opposite sides. Neither of you said much, but the quiet presence was enough for now.

He didn’t push, and that’s what made it easier to start letting the walls down with him, slowly letting him into your life again. One day, you finally agreed to sit with him, both of you sipping your drinks in silence for a while before Minho spoke.

“I miss talking to you,” he admitted softly. “Even if it’s just a dumb joke here and there. I miss… us." You didn’t know how to respond, but something in your chest loosened. The pain was still there, but it was obvious to you that it was in fact, fading.

By the time a month had passed, things had started to feel… normal again between the two of you. Minho was still cautious, still careful with his words, but the tension that had once hung between you had started to dissipate. He’d stopped teasing altogether, focusing instead on real conversations—ones where he actually listened.

One afternoon, as you both sat on a bench in the park, you finally brought it up.

“I think I’m ready to forgive you,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. Minho froze, his gaze snapping to yours, the food he was holding nearly fell to the floor and his eyes widened a little.

“Are you sure?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"You gonna try and talk me out of it?" you teased but he quickly shook his head at you, stumbling and stuttering over his words before you touched his hand,

“I’m sure. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying. You didn’t have to, but you did.” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and he smiled at you.

“I don’t want to mess this up again. I’ll do better, I promise.” For the first time in weeks, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"I believe you.” You whispered and he squeezed your hand gently, his heart swelling with relief. He knew there was still work to be done, but for now, this was enough.

Months had passed since that quiet afternoon in the park, where you’d finally forgiven Minho. Things had slowly but surely returned to normal between you two—only, this time, it was better. The teasing that once felt like jabs had softened, and Minho had become more mindful, more attentive.

He still had his moments, of course. That mischievous gleam in his eye would never completely go away, and you wouldn’t want it to. But now, when he joked, it came from a place of warmth, of care. He no longer crossed lines, and when he did slip up, he was quick to apologize. It was a kind of growth you hadn’t expected, but one that made your bond even stronger.

Tonight was special. The two of you were walking through the streets, the cool breeze brushing against your skin as the city lights twinkled above. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a quiet evening after a long day, but there was a peace between you two now that hadn’t been there before.

As you walked side by side, Minho’s hand slipped into yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that had become second nature. Neither of you said anything for a while, just enjoying the calm of the night and the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, Minho broke the silence, his voice soft but teasing in that familiar way.

“So… you think I’ve been good enough to deserve a reward yet?” You shot him a playful look. A reward? What did he think this was? You couldn't help but giggle a little at him,

“A reward? For what?” He grinned, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“For not being a complete idiot all the time.” You laughed, the sound light and easy, and it felt good. So good. It had been far too long since you'd been like this with him and he was lapping up every single minute of it.

“You’re still an idiot sometimes.” you teased,

“Yeah, but now I’m your idiot,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

“I guess that’s true,” you admitted, squeezing his hand, kissing his cheek softly,

“Lucky me.” The banter was light between you both and it was relaxing. You never felt stupid around him anymore, he never made you feel small. As you continued walking, Minho’s gaze softened, his usual teasing expression fading into something more sincere.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’m really glad you forgave me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked.

“Lucky for us, we'll never have to find out.”

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[writeonwhiskey]

lee know drabble (18+)

a/n: my first lee know drabble. i'm working on a longer fic with him as one of the MMC's and have never written him aside from as a background character so, i'm feeling out this version of him. if you enjoy it, please look forward to the upcoming fic. he may or may not be this intense, i'm undecided lol contains: orgasm denial, brat taming, light bondage, vibrator use word count: 492 [ master list ]

Bratty Little Pussy

“You’re awfully quiet now.”

Minho’s voice cuts through the wet buzz between your legs. The vibrator’s been pressed to your clit for five, maybe ten minutes at this point. Long enough for your thighs to shake and your eyes to roll back. Long enough that your pussy is a fucking mess—slick dripping, body straining, hips twitching every time the vibrator hits the perfect spot.

But he won’t let you come.

“You had a lot to say earlier,” he smirks, lying next to you with one arm propping his head up while the other holds the vibrator against you. “All that attitude. Rolling your eyes at me. Sassing me in front of the members.”

He punctuates each sentence by sliding the vibrator up and down your slit and you whimper, hands straining against the silk ties holding them to the headboard. He tied them tight—not painful, but enough to make sure you can’t help yourself.

“I said I was sorry—fuck—please, just let me—”

“Oh, now you wanna be a good girl?” he hums, pressing the vibrator against you harder. Your hips buck wildly, breath catching. He switches it to the next setting, and the vibrations turn brutal.

“Minho—fuck—it’s too much—” you pant, hips bucking.

He tsks. “No. This is exactly what you asked for. Isn’t this what you wanted? To push me until I snapped? To get your bratty little pussy punished?”

You shake your head, tears threatening to well. Your body’s fucking screaming for release, but you know better by now. He’ll take it away if you come without permission and he’ll start all over.

Although that sounds tempting, too, you want your hands freed to touch him.

You slow your breathing and nod, locking eyes with him.

“Then use your words,” he whispers.

The vibrator pulses relentlessly. You whimper, back arching, thighs clenching, pulse hammering in your ears. You’re one spark away from exploding.

“Please,” you choke out. “Please let me come. I need it. I’ve been good—I’ll be good, I swear. Minho, please.”

That finally earns you a smirk. With a soft click the vibrator shuts off. You collapse into the mattress with a sob, panting.

And then, the vibrator is gone. Replaced by his fingers, slow and unforgiving as he dips them into your soaked pussy, curling them just right against your inner walls.

“Oh my god—”

“Shhh,” he purrs, kissing along your cheek. “Now you can come.”

It hits you like a wave. Massive and unstoppable, thighs shaking, back arching as your orgasm crashes through you. You cry out his name, eyes squeezed shut, sobbing from the intensity of it.

He doesn’t stop until you're quivering, until your legs are too weak to move, until your head’s thrown back in absolute surrender.

Then he climbs over you, kisses your temple, and whispers, “Next time you wanna act out, remember how easy it is for me to break you.”

a/n: that was fun. def excited to start writing him along these lines. summer in seoul and act like you love me are so romantic/cutesy smut, so i gotta get back in this headspace for the new fic. i'm also trying to write for more members that i haven't yet. send your drabble/one-shot asks my loves 💜

[ master list ]

[xoxo-lixie]

His Jacket ᝰ.ᐟ

Paring- Minho x Reader

Summary- Y/N shivers on a cold night, refusing to admit Minho was right about bringing a jacket.

The night air was sharp and cold as Y/N and Minho walked down the quiet street, the soft glow of streetlights reflecting off the pavement. They’d just left a cozy bistro downtown, where the warmth of good food and Minho’s teasing smile had made for the perfect date. But now, as the wind whipped through the city, Y/N was seriously regretting her decision to leave her jacket at home.

Her short black dress, while undeniably stunning, wasn’t exactly windproof. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from the cold, but it was no use. The thin fabric did nothing to stop the chill from biting at her skin.

Minho noticed instantly. “You’re freezing,” he said, his tone equal parts amused and annoyed.

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted, though her teeth were practically chattering.

He stopped walking, turning to face her with a knowing look. “Y/N, you’re shaking.”

“It’s just a little cold,” she said, her voice defensive. “No big deal.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh. “This is why I told you to bring a jacket.”

Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes so hard she swore she could see the sky. “Minho, I told you already. It would’ve ruined the outfit!”

“And now look at you,” he shot back, gesturing at her shivering form. “Was it worth it?”

“Yes, actually!” she said stubbornly, pulling the dress tighter around herself. “I looked amazing tonight, and I wasn’t about to cover it up with some bulky coat.”

Minho let out an incredulous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Unbelievable. So you’d rather freeze to death than—”

“I’m not freezing to death!” she interrupted, though the way her voice wavered kind of betrayed her.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Minho muttered, his breath puffing out in the cold air. He stepped closer, shaking his head in exasperation as he slipped an arm around her waist. “Come here, stubborn.”

Y/N resisted for a second out of pure principle, but the warmth of his body against hers was too tempting to ignore. She let herself lean into him, his solid frame shielding her from the worst of the wind.

“Better?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Marginally,” she said, pretending to sound unimpressed, though she was secretly grateful.

Minho rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before stepping back. Before Y/N could protest, he shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“Minho!” she started, already trying to push it off. “You’ll get cold!”

“Too late for that,” he said, smirking as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m already cold, thanks to a certain someone who ignored me earlier.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Y/N shot back, though she was already pulling the jacket closer, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. It was warm, soft, and so Minho that she couldn’t bring herself to argue further.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her as they started walking again.

“I didn’t say thank you,” she replied, though there was a smile tugging at her lips.

“You didn’t have to. I’m just that thoughtful,” he quipped, grinning when she let out an annoyed huff.

“You’re also insufferable,” she muttered.

“And yet, you love me,” he said with a wink.

Y/N glared at him, though the blush on her cheeks—half from the cold, half from his teasing—gave her away. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she grumbled.

Minho laughed, pulling her close again as they neared the car. As he opened the door for her, he leaned down and whispered, “Don’t forget to bring a jacket next time, okay?”

“Don’t count on it,” Y/N shot back, slipping into the passenger seat with a defiant smile.

Minho just shook his head, laughing as he closed the door behind her. “You’re impossible,” he muttered under his breath, though his grin didn’t fade for a second.

[hyuneflix]

texting fwb!skz 'she's busy' prank

reader pranks their situationship with a 'she's busy' text,, she should've known that wouldn't end well! NSFW, 18+

HYUNG LINE • 형 라인

MAKNAE LINE • 막내 라인

are you still watching? << exit // continue watching (fwb!skz) >>

taglist @mangojellyyy • @diekleinesuesse • @geni-627 • @fun-fanfics • @candyquokka • @painterhyunjin • @velvetmoonlght • @velvetskize • @sona1800 • @oceanz7

[vanesycho]

Helloo I hope ur doing good! I was just thinking abt minho's hands how skillful he can be with them, if you can't make on this it's totally fine. Thank you !!

• bf!minho x f!reader | m.list

| the hand of your boyfriend who only loves his cat makes you think different things

warning | smut, fingering, minho calls the reader kitty/kitten

word count | 0,6k

author's note | thank you for your request, I hope you like it🤍

enjoy reading！

❝ I think there's another kitty that needs attention. ❞

It was a quiet day on a rainy evening. When you entered the room, you looked at doongie on the bed and Minho playing with it. A smile graced your face as you walked to the bed, Minho noticed you and lifted his head for a moment and continued to play with doongie.

After a few minutes, you got bored of scrolling through your phone so you decided to watch how your boyfriend was playing with the cat. As you watched him scratch and caress doongie's belly, all you could see was his hands. A strange feeling filled you, the warmth that came to your body as you continued to watch his hand started to bother you after a while. Minho felt a pair of eyes on him and looked at you for a moment, while your eyes were still on his hands, he grinned. "Jealous?" You turned your gaze to him, realizing that he was talking to you. "Hm?" Minho took his hand off doongie's belly and put it on the inside of your thigh. "I think there's another kitty that needs attention." he squeezed your thigh lightly, you watched as doongie got off the bed and left the room after the attention left, Minho took advantage of this and got between your legs. "Min-" your words were cut off when his hand came up to your pussy from above your pants, "Oh you're a very naughty kitten, staring at my hand like that." his thumb easily found your clit and pressed it. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you get the attention you want."

He watched with pleasure how you squirmed under him with only one finger inside you, he moved his other hand to your belly and held you in place so you wouldn't move, easily inserted his second finger into your soaked pussy. You were about to close your legs but his harsh voice stopped you. "Don't even think about it." two fingers curled inside you, moving in slow motions as if he wanted to drive you crazy. "Please..Minho, I can't take it.." a grin appeared on his face, "Since when did my little kitten complain so much? Aren't you happy with the attention you're getting?" he stopped his movements, laughed softly when a whimper came out of you, you quickly moved your hand to his wrist as he was about to take his fingers out of you "No- please, keep going.." He looked at you with his eyebrows raised slightly, you moaned again when you felt his fingers move again "That's it..I'll take care of you baby, just be patient hm?"

He sped up his movements as he leaned down and started to place small kisses on your neck, other hand slid down your belly and found your clit, his fingers continued to ruin your insides while his other hand was gently tending to your clit, your pussy started to tighten around his fingers as he realized you were close "Make a mess to my fingers yeah? I knew you could be a good kitten. So fucking good for me." it didn't take long for you to cum as the pleasure you were getting from both sides brought you to your climax, Minho's fingers were filled with your juices and he didn't take his fingers out of you until he was sure you were completely cummed. It took a while longer, which made you whine. He pulled his fingers out of you and slapped your clit a few times. “Fuck- Minho-” he laughed at your teary sound and leaned up to kiss your lips. “Good kitty.” he spoke against your lips as he held your chin, making you look up at him. “Now I need to test if you’re good with your tongue.”