2025 actually hasn’t been that bad 😭 it’s actually been a pretty good year. I completed a Cert IV in Hospitality, met some amazing new people (which, I can now say I have 10 new friends, which is insane), am about to complete a 3-month work placement at a cafe and I’m pretty close to finally getting a job. I also managed to get vip tickets for ATEEZ next year so I’m super excited for that.
But I’ve done a lot of things that I never would’ve done because of anxiety and fear, so I’m super proud of myself for that.
there's something so raw and soul crushing about spending your late childhood+teen years suicidal then growing up and actually wanting to live, after an ungodly effort, only to see your health deteriorate because of chronic illness.
i s2g jackson wang is EVERYWHERE one day he'll post a video from fucking chernobyl and when asked about it he'll be like "guysss i'm promoting my music 😩"
Pairings: bff! Lee Know x Fem! Reader; Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, friends to lovers; SLOW BURN; Warnings: Language, Mature Themes, SMUT in later chapters, slow burn - this is it I think? Let me know if I've missed anything; Word Count: 1460
Summary: Lee Know has always been your best friend—constant, familiar, safe. But when he shows up at your apartment one night, upset and vulnerable, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur. A moment of comfort turns into something deeper, forcing you both to finally confront the feelings you’ve been avoiding for years.
Author note: Hey everyone! This is this final chapter of this series, thank you so much to everyone who liked, commented and reblogged the other parts of the series! Please don't forget to like, comment and/or reblog
Chapter-specific Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, emotional intensity, light power dynamics, mature themes.
This work will and does contain mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Chapter 6 - All of Me
Minho hovers above you—flushed, breathless, his body taut with need, trembling with the effort to hold back. Minho pauses for a heartbeat, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you’re still with him. His breath comes in shallow gasps, and for a moment, you feel his hesitation—this moment isn’t just about the need coursing through him, but about something deeper.
His lips brush against yours—soft, seeking, as if grounding you both in the tenderness buried beneath the hunger. His cock presses against your entrance, thick and heavy, teasing you with each shallow roll of his hips. His forehead presses to yours, his fingers tightening on your thighs. “You’re perfect,” he rasps, voice shaking with restraint. “I can’t wait anymore.”
Neither can you.
The first push makes you gasp, your nails digging into his back as he stretches you, Minho’s eyes close briefly, his jaw tight as if fighting the urge to lose control.
The sound of your breath mingling with his, the heat between you building, makes everything feel heavier. "I need you," he whispers—his voice breaking, like he’s never needed anything more.
And for a split second, the vulnerability in his voice makes you feel even closer to him, like this is more than just the two of you in this room—it’s something timeless, something that’s been waiting for both of you to find, filling you inch by inch, slow but unyielding.
“Fuck—” Minho groans, his head dropping into the crook of your neck, his entire body rigid. “You feel… so fucking good.” The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming—thick, deep, unbearably perfect. You tighten around him, your body moulding to his, and a wrecked sound rips from his throat.
"More," you whisper, your voice trembling, raw. "Minho, don’t hold back."
Something in him unravels. His grip tightens. His breath catches. And then— Minho pulls out nearly all the way before slamming back in, the force of it making your body jerk up the mattress, a cry tearing from your lips.
He growls—a low, primal sound—gripping your hips harder as he sets a ruthless pace. Each thrust is a promise, a raw declaration of everything he’s holding back. His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to break.
His hands are desperate, clutching you like he’s afraid you might slip away. Every movement is a sweet torment, and his groans—low, guttural—only drive you further into the abyss of pleasure. "You wanted this, baby?" he rasps, voice wrecked, each thrust sharp, punishing, making you take every inch. “You wanted me to lose control?”
“Yes,” you sob, clutching his shoulders, your body arching into every brutal stroke. He’s everywhere—his mouth hot against your throat, his teeth scraping, biting, his hands branding your skin, keeping you where he wants you. His cock drives into you, relentless, each deep grind against your g-spot making you cry out louder.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you against him, forcing you to take him even deeper. Your entire body burns with pleasure, each drag of him inside you sending you spiraling.
The sound of skin slapping against skin, breathless moans, and desperate curses fills the room. You tug at his hair, pulling his mouth to yours, kissing him deep and messy, teeth clashing, tongues tangling.
“Minho—please—”
“I know, baby,” he growls, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate. “Come for me. Let me feel you.” The command sends you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you, violent, all-consuming, your body clenching around him, milking him.
“Shit—” Minho’s voice breaks as he follows, his hips stuttering, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he spills, moaning your name like it’s the only thing he knows.
He collapses against you, breath ragged, skin damp, his body still trembling from the aftershocks. For a moment, you just lie there, tangled in each other, the world reduced to the press of his chest against yours, the uneven rhythm of his breathing slowing in your ear.
His fingers twitch against your skin, tracing absent patterns as he steadies himself, and you feel the shift—his intensity softening into something gentler, more fragile. His lips press against your temple—soft now, reverent. “You’re everything to me,” he whispers, voice still wrecked. You smile, fingers threading through his damp hair. “And you’re mine,” you murmur back.
But you’re not done yet.
The room is quiet now, save for the sound of your breathing. Minho's body trembles, but not from the exertion...
There’s a quietness in him now, an almost reverent pause as he holds you close. His fingers slide lazily through your hair, a gentle touch that feels like the aftermath of a storm. "I just... I need you," he whispers again, his voice raw, soft, like a secret. "In every way." It’s not the words themselves, but the weight of them—the quiet intensity that makes your chest tighten. Minho smooths his hands down your sides, tracing slow, lazy circles over your skin, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs. You smile, brushing your lips against his. “More than okay.”
His eyes darken slightly, but this time, there’s no urgency. Just love—thick, all-consuming, pulling you deeper. Minho kisses you—slow this time, deliberate, letting you feel everything. His lips move against yours in a way that makes your heart stutter, makes your stomach twist.
Minho’s hands roam over you, but this time, there’s no urgency in his touch. It’s reverent, almost like he’s savoring you, wanting to commit every detail to memory.
“I want to feel you again,” he breathes against your lips. “But this time, I want to take my time.”
You nod, pulling him closer. “Show me.”
He moves lower, his mouth dragging over your throat, your collarbone, your chest, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive skin. His hands roam, explore, worship. By the time he positions himself at your entrance again, you’re already aching for him.
"Let me love you," he breathes, his gaze locked onto yours—open, unguarded, utterly devoted.
Your breath catches. “You already do.”
He pushes into you again— slow, deep, making you feel every inch of him. A shuddering moan escapes his lips as he buries himself inside you, perfectly connected once more. This time, his rhythm is unhurried, steady, and deep, with a slow build that makes your body burn with want.
His hips roll into yours with aching precision, every stroke pressing deeper, pushing you closer with excruciating slowness. Your nails scratch lightly down his back, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper his name, over and over, like a prayer. Minho groans, shuddering as he thrusts into you with deliberate intensity.
"You’re everything," he confesses, his voice breaking, his hands trembling where they hold you. "Everything, baby." Tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the way he makes you feel. You cup his face, forcing him to look at you.
Minho kisses you—deep, consuming, moving inside you so perfectly, so completely, like he belongs there. Your bodies move in perfect harmony, the pleasure slow and torturous, every motion bringing you closer.
Until—
Your orgasm washes over you in waves, pulling you under, your body clinging to his as you tremble through it. As you tremble in his arms, overwhelmed by the intensity of your release, a thought flashes across your mind—how you’re not just with him physically, but entirely, irrevocably intertwined. You’ve never felt this seen, this cherished. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, each breath shared between you as your worlds collapse into one.
His grip on you tightens, almost possessive, as if he, too, is trying to hold on to this moment forever. Minho follows seconds later, his body tensing, then breaking apart, a deep, wrecked moan escaping his lips as he spills inside you. This time, he doesn’t collapse. He stays inside you, forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in. His hands are still roaming, tracing, holding you like he never wants to let go.
“I love you,” he whispers again, softer this time, almost like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. For a moment, neither of you moves, lost in the warmth of each other. Minho's chest rises and falls beneath you, steady and comforting. You both know that words aren't necessary now—not when his arms are around you, his love filling the space between every breath. In the stillness, you realize this moment is more than just passion—it’s the promise of something lasting, something undeniable. You hold him tighter, letting the quiet envelop you both, knowing that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.
You smile, wrapping your arms around him, anchoring him to you. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And neither is he.
Gradient divider credit goes to @fae-and-wolf
Tag list - Let me know if you would like to be added or removed! @kissesmellow21
Pairings: bff! Lee Know x Fem! Reader; Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, friends to lovers; SLOW BURN; Warnings: Language, Mature Themes, SMUT in later chapters, slow burn - this is it I think? Let me know if I've missed anything; Word Count: 1375
Summary: Lee Know has always been your best friend—constant, familiar, safe. But when he shows up at your apartment one night, upset and vulnerable, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur. A moment of comfort turns into something deeper, forcing you both to finally confront the feelings you’ve been avoiding for years.
Author note: Hey everyone! Here is chapter 5 of the Unspoken Desires series! Hopefully, you're enjoying it so far, and the slow burn isn't too slow-burn Please don't forget to like, comment and/or reblog
Chapter-specific Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, emotional intensity, light power dynamics, mature themes.
This work will and does contain mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Chapter 5 - No Control
The moment you’ve both been waiting for is here. The space between you disappears, the air thick with anticipation. Neither of you rushes—you savor it, letting it build until it becomes unbearable.
Minho’s lips hover just above yours, his breath hot and unsteady. His forehead rests against yours as he tries to ground himself, but you can feel the tension in him—how tightly he grips your waist, how close he is to unraveling.
His hands trail lower, fingers tracing the curves of your body like he’s trying to memorize you. When he brushes the sensitive spot just beneath your ribs, you gasp softly.
He smirks against your skin. “So sensitive.”
Your body arches. “Minho… please.”
His eyes burn into yours, raw and possessive. He kisses you—slow, then deeper, hungrier. His grip tightens as his lips drag down your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your throat.
“Y/N,” he groans, breath hot against your skin. The way he says your name—like it’s sacred—sends shivers through you. You cup his face, making him meet your eyes. “You’re perfect,” you whisper. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
His breath catches. For a moment, he looks unsure. Then something deeper settles in his gaze.
“I want to ruin you,” he breathes. “I want to make you feel like you’re mine. Every part of you. No holding back.”
You nod, breathless. “Then don’t.”
A low sound rumbles in his chest as he moves down your body. His mouth traces the swell of your breast, his tongue teasing before sucking slow and deep. You moan, fingers threading through his hair.
“You taste like heaven,” he groans, kissing lower. His breath ghosts over your skin as he spreads your thighs, pausing, eyes locked with yours. Still, he waits.
You touch his jaw. “I need you, Minho. You’re everything.”
A quiet curse slips from him, and then his mouth is on you. His tongue moves slow, deliberate, every pass building pressure. The first stroke makes you jolt, a gasp tearing from your lips. Minho groans at your reaction, gripping your thighs tighter.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re so perfect.”
His tongue teases, his fingers replace it—deep, slow, curling just right. “Right there, huh?” You nod frantically, clinging to the sheets.
“I’ve got you,” he says, working you open, pushing you higher until—
You shatter.
The orgasm crashes through you, shaking you apart. Minho groans, tongue and fingers coaxing you through it. As the pleasure fades, he shifts beside you.
You both lie there, catching your breath. His hand traces gentle circles on your skin. A soft kiss to your temple stills the world around you.
But the quiet doesn’t last.
“Again,” he growls, pulling you close. You nod, breathless, and he doesn’t wait.
The second orgasm hits harder, leaving you wrecked beneath him. Minho trails kisses up your body until he’s over you again, flushed and breathing hard.
He pauses, searching your eyes for something wordless. You meet his gaze. In that moment, nothing else matters.
His forehead touches yours. “God, I—” His breath falters. “I love you.”
Your hands cup his face. “You’re everything, Minho.”
“Let me show you.”
His breath hitches as you guide him onto his back, straddling him. Your kisses trail down his neck.
“You always take care of me,” you murmur. “Let me take care of you.”
“Y/N—” His voice breaks.
You don’t let him think. You drag him under, lower, until he completely falls apart for you.
His breath stutters as your nails skim his skin, and his hands cling to your waist like you’re the only thing anchoring him. “Y/N…” he chokes out.
You push him gently onto his back, straddling him, fingers trailing down his chest. His muscles tense under your touch, a quiet hiss slipping from his lips.
“Relax,” you murmur, pressing a kiss just below his ear. “Let me love you.”
His breath shakes, like he’s never let someone care for him like this. You kiss down his neck, your lips reverent, teasing, deliberate.
“Fuck,” he breathes as you reach his waistband. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
“Good,” you tease. “I want you to feel everything.”
You free him slowly, watching the vulnerability in his eyes—like he doesn’t believe he deserves this. You touch him gently, your fingers light, exploring.
“You act so in control,” you whisper. “But right now, you’re mine.”
Minho groans, gripping your thighs tighter. The first stroke of your hand makes his breath catch, his hips twitch. “Y/N…”
You kiss his hip. “I love hearing you like this. So desperate. So needy.”
He shudders as your lips replace your hand. You take him into your mouth, slow and deep, savoring the way he comes apart. His hands tangle in your hair, not to control, just to hold on.
“Fuck, Y/N—”
You hum around him, the vibrations wrecking him. He moans, body shaking, breath broken.
“I want to make you lose yourself,” you whisper.
“You already have,” he gasps.
Still, you don’t stop.
He bucks beneath you, thighs tensing, hands trembling as you take him deeper. His control slips. He’s so close, voice wrecked: “I can’t—”
You pull back, teasing. “Let go for me.”
He moans your name, eyes screwed shut, clinging to the edge—but you slow your movements, watching him fall apart.
You kiss up his body again. His eyes flutter open, reverent and soft.
“You already have me,” he murmurs.
You kiss him deeply. “Then show me.”
And this time, he does.
Minho lets out a strangled moan, his whole body jerking, his hands fisting into the sheets now instead of your hair. “Are you serious?” he pants, eyes wide, burning with frustration. "Y/N, please—" His voice cracks. "I need you."
He looks wrecked—his skin flushed, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon. You lean down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, your fingers threading through his hair as you whisper, “I love you like this.”
Minho groans, his hands flying to your waist, gripping you tightly. “You’re driving me insane,” he breathes, his voice shaking with need. “I need to be inside you. Please.”
His voice is stripped bare, full of desperation, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There’s no pretense in him anymore—just raw want. You know what that kind of need feels like. But seeing it in him stirs something deeper, something tender. He’s giving you everything, and you’re ready to give it back.
You smile against his lips, rolling your hips just enough to make him let out a ragged moan. “Not yet.”
His head tilts back against the pillow, a desperate, broken sound escaping his lips. “Baby, please.”
You press another kiss to his jaw, your lips trailing down to his throat, sucking lightly just to feel the way his breath catches. “You’ve been so good for me,” you murmur, your voice dripping with affection. "I want you wrecked for me. Completely."
“Y/N,” he groans, his voice nothing but raw need. “I am. I’m desperate for you. I’ll do anything. Just let me inside you.”
Your heart clenches at how vulnerable he looks beneath you. You cup his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “Just a little longer,” you whisper. “I want to see you completely fall apart for me.”
His breath catches, his hands shaking against your skin. “I already have,” he whispers, so soft, so full of love it makes your chest ache.
You smile and kiss him—slow and deep—as his hands slide down your back, gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“You’re everything,” you whisper between kisses. “Everything, Minho.”
A shudder runs through him, his forehead pressing against yours. “I love you,” he breathes. “I can't even explain how much you mean to me.”
You brush your nose against his. “Then show me.”
This time, he doesn’t hold back.
The air between you thickens again, but this time it’s different. Minho’s eyes search yours, something softer flickering beneath the heat. You both know what’s coming, but for just a moment, the tension eases. You both smile—soft, almost shy. For just a breath, the urgency fades, replaced by something deeper. Something unspoken. Then, the desire swells between you once more.
Gradient divider credit goes to @fae-and-wolf
Tag list - Let me know if you would like to be added or removed! @kissesmellow21
Pairings: bff! Lee Know x Fem! Reader; Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, friends to lovers; SLOW BURN; Warnings: Language, Mature Themes, SMUT in later chapters, slow burn - this is it I think? Let me know if I've missed anything; Word Count: 1931
Summary: Lee Know has always been your best friend—constant, familiar, safe. But when he shows up at your apartment one night, upset and vulnerable, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur. A moment of comfort turns into something deeper, forcing you both to finally confront the feelings you’ve been avoiding for years.
Author note: Hey everyone! Here is chapter 4 of the Unspoken Desires series! This one is a longgg one!! Hopefully, you're enjoying it so far, and the slow burn isn't too slow-burn. Also feel free to inbox me!
Please don't forget to like, comment and/or reblog
This work will and does contain mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Chapter 4 - Ruined For You
The air between you crackles with anticipation, the space between your bodies disappearing with every shallow breath. His warmth seeps into you, his presence overwhelming in a way that steals your breath. The brush of his fingers against your skin is light, almost hesitant, yet it sets fire to every nerve in your body.
Minho’s touch lingers at your waist, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against your bare skin. His hands are warm, rough in a way that sends shivers up your spine, like he’s trying to memorize you through touch alone. He notices the way your breath stutters, the way your body presses closer, and a quiet hum of satisfaction escapes him.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice is low, hushed, thick with something dark and unrestrained.
Your fingers tighten against his shoulders, your body trembling—not from hesitation, but from the sheer weight of finally having him like this.
“Because of you,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.
His breath catches. For a moment, he just looks at you—like he’s letting those words sink deep, like they’re rewriting something inside him.
Minho’s hands move with purpose now, his fingers trailing lower, following the dip of your spine, the curve of your hips. His touch is slow and deliberate—like he’s savoring every second, like he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.
Your hands move too, sliding up his chest, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responds to every soft touch. His shirt is in the way, and before you can think twice, you push it up, your fingers splaying across the warm, bare skin beneath. His breath hitches, a quiet curse slipping from his lips as your nails rake lightly over his stomach.
Minho’s voice is a low murmur against your skin as his hands travel lower. “Is this okay? I need to know you’re with me.” There’s a brief pause, and you realize he’s waiting for your confirmation, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. It makes you feel safe, even as the heat of desire builds between you.
His hands stop for a second, hovering over your skin, as if asking for permission. ‘Tell me if you want this,’ he says, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Tell me what you need.’ The honesty in his eyes and the way his hands tremble tell you he’s just as invested in this moment as you are
His gaze darkens, half-lidded and filled with something that makes your stomach flip. “Tell me what you need from me,” he murmurs. “I need you,” you breathe, your hands threading into his hair, pulling him down into a slow, searing kiss. The kiss is deep, all-consuming—a collision of need, of years spent aching for something just out of reach. Your lips part for him, allowing his tongue to sweep against yours, teasing, tasting, devouring. The world outside this moment ceases to exist.
For a moment, nothing exists beyond this. Just him—his presence, his warmth, the way his touch makes your heart race. You trace the outline of his jaw with your fingertips, as if memorizing him. Your eyes lock for the briefest moments, and you see something raw and vulnerable in his gaze that catches you off guard. It’s like he’s laying bare a part of himself he’s never shown anyone before. You wonder if he feels the same vulnerability as you do. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, gently, as if savoring the softness. You feel your breath catch, and his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips. Neither of you moves for a heartbeat, the air thick with unspoken words.
Minho groans softly into your mouth when your hand moves lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of his pants. The sound sends heat rushing through you, your entire body burning with the need to feel more. He breaks away, panting slightly, his forehead pressed to yours. His hands find your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.
“Y/N…” His voice is rough, thick with restraint. “Tell me what you want.”
Your answer is a whisper against his lips, breathless, needy.
“Let me show you.”
His restraint snaps.
Minho’s hand slides down your body, touching, exploring, teasing, until his fingers brush against your heat. You gasp, hips jerking toward him instinctively, and he exhales a low, satisfied curse.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.”
Minho’s fingers trace slow, teasing circles on your thigh, his touch light, almost infuriatingly gentle. His gaze is locked on yours, dark with something unrestrained, hungry. “You’re so needy,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your jaw, his voice thick with amusement. “Look at you, already fucking soaked.”
His hand slides higher, grazing the slick heat between your thighs, and his breath catches. “Shit,” he mutters, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re already dripping for me.” His fingers drag through your folds, spreading your wetness before circling your clit—barely there, just the lightest ghost of a touch. The teasing makes your body jolt, frustration curling tight in your stomach.
“Minho—”
“I know, baby,” he groans, his jaw clenched, like he’s struggling just as much as you are. He rubs slow, lazy circles over your clit, just enough to make your thighs tremble. But when you try to grind against his hand, his grip on your hip tightens, holding you still. “Be patient,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your throat before sucking lightly, enough to make you whimper. “I want to take my time ruining you.”
A desperate sound escapes you, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Minho, please—” His groan is deep, almost pained. “Fuck, I love it when you beg.”
Finally—finally— he presses a finger inside you, slow and deep. The sudden stretch catches you off guard, a gasp tearing from your lips as his finger fills you. It's not just physical; it's as if he's touching something deeper within you. His groan vibrates against your ear, a sound that makes your body tremble with anticipation for what's to come. A sharp gasp tears from your lips as he fills you, stretching you just enough to make your breath hitch. His forehead rests against yours as he groans, feeling every tight clench around his finger. “You’re so fucking tight,” he rasps.
He starts moving, his rhythm torturously slow. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing small, deliberate circles that make your thighs shake.
“Minho—”
“I’ve got you,” he breathes, pressing a second finger inside. The stretch is just enough to make you whimper, pleasure spiking as he curls his fingers against that perfect spot. Your back arches instinctively, your body trembling as the pleasure builds too fast. He watches you, utterly mesmerized. “You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart for me.” His pace quickens, his fingers stroking deep, relentless, driving you higher. His free hand slides up your body, palming your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The combined sensation makes your head spin.
You’re so close, too close. Your body tenses, your nails dragging down his back. “Minho, I—”
“I know, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. His fingers move faster, unrelenting, pushing you to the edge.
And then—
“Cum for me, Y/N.” The words are a low, wrecked whisper against your ear—an order, a plea.
That’s all it takes. Your entire body shatters, pleasure ripping through you in waves as you cry out his name. Your walls pulse around his fingers, your thighs quivering, your nails digging into his skin as you ride the high.
He doesn’t stop.
He works you through it, letting you feel every pulse of pleasure until you’re whimpering, boneless, wrecked. For a long moment, there’s only the sound of your ragged breathing, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.
Minho slowly slides his fingers from you, bringing them to his lips. Watching you.
He licks them clean. “Perfect,” he whispers, voice dark, filled with something insatiable. And the look in his eyes?
Tells you this is far from over.
Your fingers curl around him, drinking in the way his breath stutters, the way his cock twitches beneath your touch. He’s so hard already, so fucking desperate, his muscles taut as if he’s barely holding himself together. His forehead presses against yours, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as you touch him—slow at first, teasing.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice strained, wrecked. His grip on your hips tightens like he’s grounding himself, like if he lets go, he’ll lose every shred of control he’s clinging to. His hips twitch, chasing the slick glide of your fingers. You smirk, loving the way he’s already unraveling beneath you.
“You’re so sensitive,” you murmur, swiping your thumb over the head, spreading the wetness there. His reaction is instant—his whole body jerks, a deep, shuddering moan spilling from his lips. His head tilts back slightly, exposing his throat, and you can’t resist dragging your tongue along the hot skin, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. His hips jerk again, more insistent this time. “Shit—” His voice is breathless, raw. “You’re fucking killing me.”
His hand covers yours, guiding you—faster, firmer, exactly how he needs.His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling you up so he can kiss you, hard and messy, his tongue sweeping against yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. A needy whimper escapes you, your thighs squeezing together at the desperate sounds he makes—low, wrecked, breaking apart at your touch.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps against your lips, his hips rocking into your fist, his cock throbbing as you work him with steady, deliberate strokes. His abs flex beneath your fingers, his entire body tightening as he teeters on the edge. His head drops to your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. His moans turn softer, more desperate. “Fuck—just like that—”
You can feel it—the way he’s trembling, the way his thighs tense, the way his cock twitches against your palm. He’s so close. You kiss his temple, pressing your lips to his damp skin.
“Let go, Minho,” you whisper.
His body locks up, his grip on you bruising as a shuddering, broken moan tears from his throat. He spills hot and thick over your fingers, his breath stuttering, his body shaking as he rides it out. You stroke him through it, milking every last pulse of pleasure until he slumps against you, utterly spent. His breath is warm against your collarbone, his body heavy, his fingers digging into your thigh as he tries to recover. You grin, pressing a soft kiss to his flushed skin.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, wrecked.
But you’re not done with him yet.
For a quick second, the world settles back into place. Minho doesn’t move immediately. His fingers brush against your skin gently, as if checking that you’re still there, still with him. His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but there’s a tenderness in his touch now—no longer urgent, but soft, almost reverent. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he takes in the quiet. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both catching your breath, the silence between you both feeling sacred.
Minho’s lips hover near your ear. He swallows hard before speaking, his voice hoarse, hesitant. “You’re okay?"It’s not an afterthought; it’s a question born from genuine care, a check-in that makes your heart skip a beat.
Gradient divider credit goes to @fae-and-wolf
Tag list - Let me know if you would like to be added or removed! @kissesmellow21
blakekathryn
gummygunk
dailybridgerton
prguitarman
izzy806
