𐔌 . ⋮ LEE KNOW .ᐟ ֹ + ꒱

God, why did you have to be so cute? No one, and I mean no one could resist teasing you about how small you were. Especially Minho. He loved how perfectly you fit in his arms, pulling you into his lap at the most random times when he got the chance. He'd purposefully bend down just slightly when speaking to you, even if he wasn't listening to anything you had to say. He just wanted to make you feel weak, ruffling your hair before trapping your neck between his biceps and forearm if he got remotely close to it.

"Did you choose to be that short or..?" Stupid fucking questions like that would always get you going, arms crossed with the most adorable frown. He couldn't pass that up.

His intentions were so obvious, yet you were the only one who couldn't see them. Minho made sure to buy you the tiniest of skirts, knowing you loved hearing his opinion on them. He was such a gentleman to the naked eye, but in reality he was silently wondering how tight you'd feel around him. Was it perverted and fucking sick to think that way of your best friend? Well yes, but he took pride in it. He took pride in being the only man to make you question your boundaries, being the only man who made you feel utter discomfort but in the best way possible-- his fingers slowly tapping on your inner thigh, eyes discreetly watching your face to see any sort of reaction.

He lived to see the look on your face as his hands aimlessly roamed your body, saying it was normal for friends to do this. "Baby.. Friends can kiss, it's normal." "Don't you wanna help me out? It hurts so bad," He would pout as hard as possible. "I thought I was your friend? Don't you love me?"

He knew you were weak for him, all these years of built up trust and adoration only made it easier for him to get what he wanted. It's not like you could just tell him no when you could barely bring yourself to look him in the eyes as he spoke. It was pathetic, really.

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"Such a pretty girl." He grinned to himself, a wicked, sickening grin. You'd whine about how he would compliment you too much, hitting his thigh before going back to the movie currently playing on the TV-- but of course, you barely fazed him. It was peaceful as you lied on your back, allowing yourself to sink into the mattress below you and Minho. He watched your form quietly, bundled up in a blanket he had bought for your 19th birthday.

Fuck.

He could feel the tent growing in his crotch, letting out a shameless groan. Minho didn't bother to cover it with a cough, feeling your eyes on him fixed with confusion. His hand traveled it's way under the blanket and to your waist, rubbing small circles. "Mm.. So soft for me," His black hair fell across his eyes, leaning into your neck as he swallowed your scent.

Minho's fingers played with the hem of your shorts, not slowing his movements even after hearing your whimpers of protest. "Try to push me off you then, yeah? If you don't want me, fight back." You didn't move, just imagining that stupid fucking smirk on his face knowing he won.

"That's my girl. You can take it." His hand slid between your plush thighs, soft breaths escaping his lips, a stark contrast to your ragged ones.

"Shh.. Just a little further, hm? My poor baby." He cooed, analyzing every single sound, the way your eyes moved, exactly when your body would twitch at his words. His hand was practically cupping your clothed mound, pressing the lightest kiss to your neck.